I'm choosing to be in denial about needing to do up my table for LCS and so I'm choosing instead to waste time on this quiz/survey/whatever thingy I'm about to do. It's long and therefore a waste of time and therefore this entry is redundant and therefore should be skipped. Thank you.
Name: She Who Uses a Barely-Disguised Nickname to Delude Herself Into Thinking She Maintains Some Semblance to Anonymity. Also Known As: How Incredibly Stupid.
Nickname(s): Um, I've kind of lost track. People call me by my name most of the time. Some call me Yelen. And uh, apparently I'm also known as Bluey. Ask Mag.
Birthday: July 14, 1986. I can't believe I'm turning 21 this year OMG pull out my hair and kill myself.
Height: 165 cm.
Weight: Oh my I used to be 52 kilos when I was 16. The last I checked - which was in my hotel in Bangkok - I was 50. Sometimes I think I've lost more weight, and other times - like now - I'm convinced I've gained. My tummy is huge right now. Ugh, I disgust myself.
Status: Huh? What status?
Music: Stuck on Stereophonics at the moment.
Hair: It's uh, in existence. Okay, I have bangs and they annoy me more and more with each passing day. I'm really too lazy for this kinda shit. I want my old hair back.
Annoyance: LCS. Enough said.
Smell: I like the smell that permeates through the air before and after it rains.
Thing I ought to be doing: Compiling my stuff for LCS. But it's boring and I don't feel like doing it right now.
Desktop picture: A Brick wallpaper. More specifically, Emily's lifeless arm, decorated with cheap blue plastic bracelets. Pretty.
Favorite Group: I like bands, not groups.
Favorite Book: If forced to choose, probably Julian Barnes' England, England.
CD in CD Player: Disc 2 of Stereophonics' Live in Dakota CD. MAJOR LOVE.
Worry: Um, none. I should be worried about school, all things considered, but I'm not.
Crush: Uh, yeah, I'm kinda too old for crushes. If I like someone I'd ask him out. I don't have the patience to sit around and wait for him to notice me.
Favorite Celebrity: Uh. I'm not into celebrities. I like singers and actors, but not celebrities.
You Talked to: My mother.
You Hugged: Knew I wouldn't remember.
You Icqed: Fuck, ICQ? That's like, prehistoric, man.
You Yelled at: Um, my brother, for him to get away from my laptop.
You Had a Crush on: This is kinda self-evident: The ex-boyfriend. Though I never once called it a crush.
Who Broke Your Heart: Never had my heart broke. (Wonky grammar courtesy of Logan Echolls.)
Food: Um. I don't really like food. But I'm suffering from a major chocolate craving these few days and I'm getting extremely paranoid about my ballooning tummy. Argh. Need to swim. NOW.
Drink: Unsweetened coffee. Yum.
Colour: I don't have a favourite colour, if truth be told.
Album: At the moment, Language. Violence. Sex. Other? by Stereophonics.
Candy: I don't eat candies.
Animal: Cows and ducks.
TV Show: Veronica Mars, duh.
Movies: Okay, I'm getting bored with this. It's a toss-up between Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Chungking Express.
Song: Dakota by Stereophonics. It's been so for a while now. I just LOVE IT and I don't know why.
Vegetables: Ugh, who the hell cares about my favourite vegetables? Why do you even assume I have a favourite vegetable? I'd say tomatoes - the only food I'd eat raw - but I don't know if it's a vegetable. Whatever.
Fruit: Small mandarin oranges and Taiwanese tangerines. I hate apples and I hate pears. And I fucking hate durians with every fibre of my being.
Cartoon: I don't watch cartoons.
Who do you want to:
Slap: Girl Who Shall Not Be Named from school, just because her very existence annoys me. If you wanna know who it is, just ask.
Get Really Wasted with: Khai. Haha, I don't know why, I just do. But I don't wanna get really wasted.
Get High with: Not interested in drugs.
Tickle: Uh. No one.
Look Like: I love looking like myself. It's so fun.
Talk to Online: I hate talking online.
I need: Some sliver of interest in law to get me out of this shit-assed rut in which I'm stuck.
I find: Law completely boring and meaningless.
I wish: I'd gone to England.
I love: Myself better than you.
I hate: Law school.
I miss: Junior college.
I fear: Physical pain.
I feel: Like peeing.
I hear: My laptop fan making this slight whirring sound.
I crave: Real writing talent.
I wonder: If tomorrow's just gonna be another bloody boring day.
What was the...
Last movie you saw?: Good question. Blood Diamond, I think.
Last book you read?: In full - Before She Met Me by Julian Barnes. I didn't like the ending, although his description of it made me sick which means it was highly effective. I didn't quite like the book, actually. It was...not as good as his definitive works. It wasn't even as good as his first novel. The writer's empathy for his protagonist wasn't as clear and strong in the novel as it was in other works, like Flaubert's Parrot (amazing deconstructionist approach to the standard-issue novel - love it to bits) and England, England. And all his stories in The Lemon Table. And also Staring at the Sun. So yeah, my point is, Before She Met Me isn't one of his best. I'd even rate it below The Porcupine. Um, yes, I'm a Julian Barnes junkie.
Last song you heard?: That song about seeing someone's thong by some idiot. I heard it in this shoe store at West Mall, where I bought three pairs of shoes. Bwahaha.
Last thing you had to drink?: Ovaltine. Is it fattening?
Last thing you ate?: Pears. Yuck.
Last time you showered: Half an hour ago.
Do drugs?: No.
Sleep with stuffed animals?: No.
Live in the moment?: Yes. Live now, regret later.
Have recurring dreams?: No.
Play an instrument?: I used to play the piano. I haven't played anything apart from very bad Chopsticks since 2002. (Who plays very bad Chopsticks? Me.)
Remember your first love?: That, to me, is even a little suspect now. Does it mean first boyfriend? If so, it's a cheap definition of an event that's supposed to be meaningful and life-changing, because I wasn't in love with my first boyfriend and I sure as hell didn't love him. What then gives him the prerogative and credentials to qualify as my "first love"? Sure, I liked the guy, but that was about as far as it ever went. Oh well.
Read the newspaper?: Reading the Straits Times causes my IQ and my standard of English to severely deteriorate.
Have any gay or lesbian friends?: Yep.
Believe in miracles?: Uh, no.
Believe its possible to remain faithful forever?: Uh, I don't know what 'forever' means. For a long period of time, i.e. six months, sure. I still have my fair share of commitment issues. I mean, I can do the whole monogamy/fidelity thing, but it doesn't mean I won't get bored; it just means I won't cheat on you, which in turn means that if I wanted to fuck someone else, I'd break up with you first. That's all there is to it.
Consider yourself tolerant of others?: I'm extremely intolerant of stupid people and people with bad English. Other than that, I'm a very nice person. Yep, not snobbish at all.
Consider love a mistake?: I wrote some sentimental bullshit in response to this question when I was 16. Laughable. [Love cannot be a mistake. It is the sole reason for human survival. We don't simply be; we are for a reason. Love is the reason. (Oh my god, I should be remembered for these words.)] That said, love isn't a mistake; the decision to love the wrong person is. Or the false belief that you love someone when all you're doing is trying to justify the physical action. Suffice it to say, I'm glad I'm not 16 anymore, because I sure was retarded.
Believe in magic?: Uh, no. The Prestige kind of dispelled everything, and I wanna watch The Illusionist 'cause I love Edward Norton.
Believe in God?: No.
Go to church/synagogue?: No.
Have any secrets?: Who doesn't?
Have any pets?: Nope. My mom owns the fish.
Go to or plan on going to college?: Uh, yeah.
Talk to random people?: Nope.
Wear hats?: I'm not into hats.
Piercings?: None. At all.
Collect anything?: Movie ticket stubs.
Wish on stars?: No.
Like your handwriting?: I like the way it doesn't look like one person's handwriting. I used to have two variations: The Exam Handwriting - super scribbly, slanted, illegible - and The Normal Handwriting - neat, semi-legible, and, well, round (you'll get it when you see it). Now, I have like, three: The Exam Handwriting, The Normal Handwriting, and The Lecture Handwriting. The last one is completely illegible, erratic in the direction towards which it slants, and quite plainly, a bloody eyesore. But I like it. My handwriting is, like, totally the greatest.
Have any bad habits?: I peel off the skin around my thumbs and my middle fingers.
Believe in witches?: Um. No.
Believe in ghosts?: Don't care.
Favorite guy name: Jack. Seriously.
Favorite girl name: Um, not Jill. My name is the best.
Favorite scent: My Gucci Envy perfume.
Favorite ice cream: Ben and Jerry's.
Dream job: Professional writer, international best-seller. Because I'm that good. (Yeah right.) International best-seller? Seriously? God, the travesty.