Wednesday, January 31, 2007
So I met up with my poly friends today in orchard for coffee and conversation. Can’t believe it’s been that long. Miss the bunch of them, a good bunch of them really are decent people. The rest are well let’s just say I hope something old, putrid and heavy falls on them.
Yeah, but the bunch of people I met up with were the better of the lot. Pity I don’t spend enough time with them then again it is hard for me to be around them and not disagree with some the things or philosophy in life. I suppose it’s a matter of acceptance.
I’ve been packing all the stuff that I’ll be bringing overseas and thus far I have
1) 2 very stylish and cheap black umbrellas
2) 2 bottles of Neutrogena sun block
3) 2 tubes of facial wash
4) 3 tubes of facial masks
5) shaving cream
6) 1 comfy long-john
7) 7 T-shirts or the like
8) 2 formal shirts
9) 1 pair of jeans
10) 3 sets of berms
11) A LOT of underwear
12) 2 silk boxers
13) All my card games (sorted and packaged nicely)
14) My Organic Chem notes and textbook
15) Two pairs of Sunglasses
16) 2 pairs of track pants
17) All my chargers
18) 1 Sweater
19) 2 Jackets
20) 5 pads of foolscap paper
21) Pens
22) Pen ink refills
23) A box of paper clips
24) Pencil Lead refills
25) My pencil case
26) My study file
Anything I’ve missed out so far?
That is all
Jon.P™
Jonathan’s Gem for today: “Jon I need you to go to NTUC and get me some fresh dried ikan bilis”. Sigh…
Yeah, but the bunch of people I met up with were the better of the lot. Pity I don’t spend enough time with them then again it is hard for me to be around them and not disagree with some the things or philosophy in life. I suppose it’s a matter of acceptance.
I’ve been packing all the stuff that I’ll be bringing overseas and thus far I have
1) 2 very stylish and cheap black umbrellas
2) 2 bottles of Neutrogena sun block
3) 2 tubes of facial wash
4) 3 tubes of facial masks
5) shaving cream
6) 1 comfy long-john
7) 7 T-shirts or the like
8) 2 formal shirts
9) 1 pair of jeans
10) 3 sets of berms
11) A LOT of underwear
12) 2 silk boxers
13) All my card games (sorted and packaged nicely)
14) My Organic Chem notes and textbook
15) Two pairs of Sunglasses
16) 2 pairs of track pants
17) All my chargers
18) 1 Sweater
19) 2 Jackets
20) 5 pads of foolscap paper
21) Pens
22) Pen ink refills
23) A box of paper clips
24) Pencil Lead refills
25) My pencil case
26) My study file
Anything I’ve missed out so far?
That is all
Jon.P™
Jonathan’s Gem for today: “Jon I need you to go to NTUC and get me some fresh dried ikan bilis”. Sigh…
Thursday, January 18, 2007
I’m feeling so unprepared for my move to UQ and you know I could blame my mom and how her bargain hunting has thus far cost me my choice accommodation and choice flight date, but I won’t. I have instead decided to learn from this mistake and BAN her and my dad from making any decisions in my life.
Every time I want to do something ahead of time and save myself the stress of doing it last minute. That mother of mine either takes so long in replying I miss the deadline, or she wants to wait for the better deal to save 100 and I lose my choice flight dates on my choice airlines. This same woman, who when I try and save her money by wanting to open an account in Sg then transferring it to Aus saying that it’s too much trouble, as opposed to flying ALL the way to Aus dragging either a bank draft or hard cold cash gotten at terrible exchange rates. What is wrong with this picture?
Sigh, so I haven’t heard from my accommodation arrangements which I suppose is making me a little nervous. It’s tough to study when you’re living on the streets, bathing in the water fountain or better yet once a year (like in the good ol’ days of yore), hunting stray pigeons for sustenance and cooking them in aluminum foil under bridges with the eleven secret herbs and spices found from the human body.
On bright side I have planned my temporary accommodation and I have (as always) plan B and C just in case. Neither of which I look forward to. I’m collecting my tickets tomorrow, I’ve got a checklist and to do count down list ready. I’ve got my bag list out and document list.
I suppose maybe I’m just feeling the natural jitteriness that anyone that’s uprooting themselves and going to a completely different continent would feel. I do have a bit of overseas experience under my belt so it shouldn’t be too difficult. Just have deal with the emotions portion of my being, which is being very irritatingly irrational.
Maybe it’s just the fear of the unknown, as marked by my frantic information harvesting on anything related to my course of studies there. I even found myself awake one morning at 3am reading through the whole of genesis.
Covet your prayers.
That is all
Jon.P™
Jonathan’s Gem for today: “ It’s one thing to tell the younger ones to believe in the word, it’s by far more important to WHY we believe it’s the word of God. Especially for those in their late teens that are preoccupied with truth.”
P.S How can Sarai not say anything after the way Abram treated her in egypt? Any normal wife would have thrown a hissy fit.
Every time I want to do something ahead of time and save myself the stress of doing it last minute. That mother of mine either takes so long in replying I miss the deadline, or she wants to wait for the better deal to save 100 and I lose my choice flight dates on my choice airlines. This same woman, who when I try and save her money by wanting to open an account in Sg then transferring it to Aus saying that it’s too much trouble, as opposed to flying ALL the way to Aus dragging either a bank draft or hard cold cash gotten at terrible exchange rates. What is wrong with this picture?
Sigh, so I haven’t heard from my accommodation arrangements which I suppose is making me a little nervous. It’s tough to study when you’re living on the streets, bathing in the water fountain or better yet once a year (like in the good ol’ days of yore), hunting stray pigeons for sustenance and cooking them in aluminum foil under bridges with the eleven secret herbs and spices found from the human body.
On bright side I have planned my temporary accommodation and I have (as always) plan B and C just in case. Neither of which I look forward to. I’m collecting my tickets tomorrow, I’ve got a checklist and to do count down list ready. I’ve got my bag list out and document list.
I suppose maybe I’m just feeling the natural jitteriness that anyone that’s uprooting themselves and going to a completely different continent would feel. I do have a bit of overseas experience under my belt so it shouldn’t be too difficult. Just have deal with the emotions portion of my being, which is being very irritatingly irrational.
Maybe it’s just the fear of the unknown, as marked by my frantic information harvesting on anything related to my course of studies there. I even found myself awake one morning at 3am reading through the whole of genesis.
Covet your prayers.
That is all
Jon.P™
Jonathan’s Gem for today: “ It’s one thing to tell the younger ones to believe in the word, it’s by far more important to WHY we believe it’s the word of God. Especially for those in their late teens that are preoccupied with truth.”
P.S How can Sarai not say anything after the way Abram treated her in egypt? Any normal wife would have thrown a hissy fit.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Food poisoning is a brilliant way to lose weight. That is, if you’re willing to sacrifice sleep and start developing an unnatural affection for the toilet bowl (seat up), throwing up whatever God intended to be on the inside of you. I’ve lost 2kg this way in just 1 day.
So I met up with Chris to go for a nice evening run along east coast on Monday. We went at a slow pace because I had just finished helping my dad throughout the sunlight hours, lugging his camera equipment from location to location doing a rushed shoot and just didn’t have the energy. So after a very pleasant, short, breezy run, we met Samson for supper.
Two things I didn’t like that day about the food service at short john.
1) The Sze Char auntie
There was either an erroneous or cancelled order for fried sliced fish rice (hard to describe in english). Chris has wanted to have sing zho mee fen but this auntie hovered around him bugging him to take this erroneous order instead, for what I suspect to be the same price. When Chris asked if she had cancelled his order and offered him this one in place, she said yes. In other words Chris had to pay for a mistake that she made; the consequence of the mistake was forced onto Chris. I think that is really a low down and below the belt move; to force your mistakes on someone else even if it is with a smile and chirpy tone. But yeah just didn’t like it.
2) The Roti Prata stall
Ugh the source of my food poisoning. Here’s the thing about curry. It’s got coconut milk and as such should be heated to 70°C and kept at that temp at all times or at the very least be steam heated. That prata stall in short john seemed to rely solely on intense halogen lighting which does absolutely nothing for the taste or preservation of the food if anything I suppose it does give any chlorophyll packed fungi in the curry a fighting chance at survival.
The curry was cold I should have taken that as warning in itself but alas I was fool hardy enough to press on and finish my plaster and kosong.
Now I have a very sensitive stomach despite my “gastri-nominal” buffet marathon capabilities I do require decent food with decent hygiene standards, failing which I get diarrhea or in really bad cases, food poisoning. I should have known it was food poisoning when I started shivering after eating the prata or at the very least when I continued shivering uncontrollably after my bath. Which is bad enough as it is but the actual toilet hugging didn’t begin until the wee-hours of the good top ‘o’ the morning.
What’s worse than throwing up your guts? Throwing up nothing. Torn between triggering my gag reflex and suffering from the tummy rumbling dry heaves, I chose the dry heaves. It wasn’t until the next day that I got my hands on charcoal, life giving activated charcoal and bound all those DANGEROUS, TOXIC, BIOHAZARDOUS, DELINQUENT, UNNATURAL, PORNOGRAPHIC, PIRATED AND not to mention UNDERAGED toxins up and finally managed to go poop.
That is all
Jon.P™
Jonathan’s Gem for today “Advice uncalled for is no different from un-welcomed criticism. A show of concern is always so much more productive”
So I met up with Chris to go for a nice evening run along east coast on Monday. We went at a slow pace because I had just finished helping my dad throughout the sunlight hours, lugging his camera equipment from location to location doing a rushed shoot and just didn’t have the energy. So after a very pleasant, short, breezy run, we met Samson for supper.
Two things I didn’t like that day about the food service at short john.
1) The Sze Char auntie
There was either an erroneous or cancelled order for fried sliced fish rice (hard to describe in english). Chris has wanted to have sing zho mee fen but this auntie hovered around him bugging him to take this erroneous order instead, for what I suspect to be the same price. When Chris asked if she had cancelled his order and offered him this one in place, she said yes. In other words Chris had to pay for a mistake that she made; the consequence of the mistake was forced onto Chris. I think that is really a low down and below the belt move; to force your mistakes on someone else even if it is with a smile and chirpy tone. But yeah just didn’t like it.
2) The Roti Prata stall
Ugh the source of my food poisoning. Here’s the thing about curry. It’s got coconut milk and as such should be heated to 70°C and kept at that temp at all times or at the very least be steam heated. That prata stall in short john seemed to rely solely on intense halogen lighting which does absolutely nothing for the taste or preservation of the food if anything I suppose it does give any chlorophyll packed fungi in the curry a fighting chance at survival.
The curry was cold I should have taken that as warning in itself but alas I was fool hardy enough to press on and finish my plaster and kosong.
Now I have a very sensitive stomach despite my “gastri-nominal” buffet marathon capabilities I do require decent food with decent hygiene standards, failing which I get diarrhea or in really bad cases, food poisoning. I should have known it was food poisoning when I started shivering after eating the prata or at the very least when I continued shivering uncontrollably after my bath. Which is bad enough as it is but the actual toilet hugging didn’t begin until the wee-hours of the good top ‘o’ the morning.
What’s worse than throwing up your guts? Throwing up nothing. Torn between triggering my gag reflex and suffering from the tummy rumbling dry heaves, I chose the dry heaves. It wasn’t until the next day that I got my hands on charcoal, life giving activated charcoal and bound all those DANGEROUS, TOXIC, BIOHAZARDOUS, DELINQUENT, UNNATURAL, PORNOGRAPHIC, PIRATED AND not to mention UNDERAGED toxins up and finally managed to go poop.
That is all
Jon.P™
Jonathan’s Gem for today “Advice uncalled for is no different from un-welcomed criticism. A show of concern is always so much more productive”
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Your results:
You are Dr. Doom
Click here to take the "Which Super Villain are you?" quiz...
You are Dr. Doom
| Blessed with smarts and power but burdened by vanity. |
Click here to take the "Which Super Villain are you?" quiz...
Right then so I worked for my dad on Tuesday. Apparently he’s finally noticed that I’m on holiday and has (like any half decent business man) capitalized on the free labour.
Okay, so technically I haven’t actually done any “work” per say just moved some lighting stuff into the car. I did however get to see my father actually working, I should have taped it; Ripley’s would have paid through the nose for footage like that. No really, whilst my father is terrible business man, he is a well respected photographer.
Even more disturbing is the way he works, I find that the way he operates is suspiciously similar mine, fastidious and very picky (just ask the people who used to work with me) but effective, I’m trying to date when he started to copy the way I handle work.
I suppose my new found affection for my father could stem from the fact that my mother began her tirade against me in that same morning the minute I got out of bed. A barrage of relentless attacks and accusations that lasted a good twenty minutes and ending with the statement: “I’d rather not send you to university if you’re going to get more proud.” Of course I was smarter than to start shouting back at her that early in the morning. I hate statements like that, given the horrible up bringing that I’ve had. I have enough problems with trust and security without such threats being made.
My mother in spite of all the mental diseases I suspect she has, was not unprovoked in this instance. The night before she seemed upset when I lambasted her for looking at my financial statement without permission and commenting that I was wasting money (about 900 dollars for the month of December), which no doubt she believes that as my parent she has every right to govern every aspect of her son’s life. Now that my sister is grown up to the perfect person she is it’s time to turn to her son and be thoroughly dissatisfied with everything relating to me, from what I touch, do and breathe.
I now see the logic of moving out of your parent’s home, far away, preferably with a continent or two in between. Naturally I can’t expect to be on the receiving end for one of those government “live near your parents” subsidies, which in my opinion is a cunning way to make sure that you take care of your parents after the government has worked an taxed them up to an inch of their niches.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents. I appreciate that they bothered to put food on the table, given me my sister’s hand me downs (textbooks and a few times I caught my mother trying to sneak my sister’s old T-shirts into my wardrobe) and paying for my school fees, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them. I’ll take care of them when their old just don’t expect me to live out whatever misguided opinions they have as to what a son should be and do. For that matter I take better care of them than my sister ever has. The same sister who is now leaving the family soon and has little intention of coming back, that is not without a court order and several burly armed guards my parents are bound to hire. Not that I don’t understand why she wouldn’t want to be back.
I suppose I have a lot of anger issues to deal with but I guess the Lord will have to deal with them in time.
Okay I’m done ranting.
That is all.
Jon.P™
P.S 900 is not a lot to spend when 100+ went to Uni application stuff, 75+ to repairing a watch, 100+ went to the family, 45 in a loan to a friend (that paid me back). That’s less than 600 in a month when I bought Christmas presents, games, effectively spent the Christmas and new years out of the house, sent presents back to Taiwan, topped up the car’s fuel. I would hardly consider that overspending.
Okay, so technically I haven’t actually done any “work” per say just moved some lighting stuff into the car. I did however get to see my father actually working, I should have taped it; Ripley’s would have paid through the nose for footage like that. No really, whilst my father is terrible business man, he is a well respected photographer.
Even more disturbing is the way he works, I find that the way he operates is suspiciously similar mine, fastidious and very picky (just ask the people who used to work with me) but effective, I’m trying to date when he started to copy the way I handle work.
I suppose my new found affection for my father could stem from the fact that my mother began her tirade against me in that same morning the minute I got out of bed. A barrage of relentless attacks and accusations that lasted a good twenty minutes and ending with the statement: “I’d rather not send you to university if you’re going to get more proud.” Of course I was smarter than to start shouting back at her that early in the morning. I hate statements like that, given the horrible up bringing that I’ve had. I have enough problems with trust and security without such threats being made.
My mother in spite of all the mental diseases I suspect she has, was not unprovoked in this instance. The night before she seemed upset when I lambasted her for looking at my financial statement without permission and commenting that I was wasting money (about 900 dollars for the month of December), which no doubt she believes that as my parent she has every right to govern every aspect of her son’s life. Now that my sister is grown up to the perfect person she is it’s time to turn to her son and be thoroughly dissatisfied with everything relating to me, from what I touch, do and breathe.
I now see the logic of moving out of your parent’s home, far away, preferably with a continent or two in between. Naturally I can’t expect to be on the receiving end for one of those government “live near your parents” subsidies, which in my opinion is a cunning way to make sure that you take care of your parents after the government has worked an taxed them up to an inch of their niches.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents. I appreciate that they bothered to put food on the table, given me my sister’s hand me downs (textbooks and a few times I caught my mother trying to sneak my sister’s old T-shirts into my wardrobe) and paying for my school fees, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them. I’ll take care of them when their old just don’t expect me to live out whatever misguided opinions they have as to what a son should be and do. For that matter I take better care of them than my sister ever has. The same sister who is now leaving the family soon and has little intention of coming back, that is not without a court order and several burly armed guards my parents are bound to hire. Not that I don’t understand why she wouldn’t want to be back.
I suppose I have a lot of anger issues to deal with but I guess the Lord will have to deal with them in time.
Okay I’m done ranting.
That is all.
Jon.P™
P.S 900 is not a lot to spend when 100+ went to Uni application stuff, 75+ to repairing a watch, 100+ went to the family, 45 in a loan to a friend (that paid me back). That’s less than 600 in a month when I bought Christmas presents, games, effectively spent the Christmas and new years out of the house, sent presents back to Taiwan, topped up the car’s fuel. I would hardly consider that overspending.
Monday, January 08, 2007
I’ve been reading my previous entries and I realize that I enjoy reading my previous entries, hence this entry.
I realize that I’ve been a little girl crazy over the last few weeks. I suppose it’s because of the Christmas and New Year’s season; everyone tends to get a bit soppy. I’ve been looking at most of my friends around my age and am thoroughly disgusted that I stand alone. Well not totally alone, there is a small be mysteriously determined number of peers that have yet to identify and eliminate their most nauseating feature(s) to the opposite gender and are as such alone.
Of course most people (unless you’re very perceptive or know me very well) haven’t really noticed this of me. That is unless they have noticed this change in me and yet remain true enough a bunch of friend to completely ignore it. *sniff* These are the sort of calloused, unfeeling and self indulgent bunch of friends that even money can't buy and you'd be lucky to find.
But I digress.
I did consider the fact that I am going away to study and that a relationship with the magnitude I have in mind would required a stupendous Herculean amount of effort or a drug dependency problem.
Maybe it’s just that I’m feeling lonely or that biological need to procreate (the urge to merge as some would say) is once again knocking on my door. This time with a sledge hammer, dressed in leather with a can of whipped cream and tube of toothpaste.
I realize I’ve posted something along the same lines before; it just goes to show that the issue hasn't been resolved in my life yet, just postponed to a later time and date in my life.
My last relationship was in sec 4. Since then I’ve been spending a good portion of my time developing qualities and character. I’m not sure why, but virtually every woman’s magazine I’ve read in waiting rooms espouses that they are extremely important (then again they ARE always outdated). Then again I’m not sure all the qualities and character I’ve cultivated in my life are good ones but oh well.
I’ve also been told that my countenance is quite pleasant. Given that I’m no model wannabe (or then again….) but at least people can afford to look at me without their lunch being thrust ever upwards. Why just this Sunday someone remarked to me that I could be an air steward with my looks. Then again I don’t know the yard stick for which air stewards are judged by. For all I know the air steward benchmark could hover around having enough hair to charm a guerilla and tell people that there isn't any chicken left. Okay, bad example. How about this? During my grand mother’s 70th birthday, a young boy came up to me and told me he thought I was good looking. Then again I’ve also had young boys come up to me and address me as “auntie”. Okay, another bad example, but you get my point.
Perhaps it’s just that my requirements are a little too high. One sure way to veto any possible candidate is to consider the way she regards herself. If she considers herself a little princess chances are she expects to be treated as much. I for one am no about to spend the rest of my life slaving to keep that misguided belief alive for her. You’d be surprised at the number of girls I’ve have the misfortune to meet that consider themselves to be a little royal something. You know what? I firmly agreed with them.
I am convinced that one of the reasons why they think they are "princesses" is because they have had dads or uncles, who out of misguided affection labeled them as such. Something these goons still believe and cling to even in their 20s.
As with most posts I have to cut short this one because it’s 2:45am and my dad has cajoled me to help him out today so I must sleep.
That is all
Jon.P™
Today’s Jonathan’s Gem:
“Most men live lives of quiet desperation”
- Thoreau
I realize that I’ve been a little girl crazy over the last few weeks. I suppose it’s because of the Christmas and New Year’s season; everyone tends to get a bit soppy. I’ve been looking at most of my friends around my age and am thoroughly disgusted that I stand alone. Well not totally alone, there is a small be mysteriously determined number of peers that have yet to identify and eliminate their most nauseating feature(s) to the opposite gender and are as such alone.
Of course most people (unless you’re very perceptive or know me very well) haven’t really noticed this of me. That is unless they have noticed this change in me and yet remain true enough a bunch of friend to completely ignore it. *sniff* These are the sort of calloused, unfeeling and self indulgent bunch of friends that even money can't buy and you'd be lucky to find.
But I digress.
I did consider the fact that I am going away to study and that a relationship with the magnitude I have in mind would required a stupendous Herculean amount of effort or a drug dependency problem.
Maybe it’s just that I’m feeling lonely or that biological need to procreate (the urge to merge as some would say) is once again knocking on my door. This time with a sledge hammer, dressed in leather with a can of whipped cream and tube of toothpaste.
I realize I’ve posted something along the same lines before; it just goes to show that the issue hasn't been resolved in my life yet, just postponed to a later time and date in my life.
My last relationship was in sec 4. Since then I’ve been spending a good portion of my time developing qualities and character. I’m not sure why, but virtually every woman’s magazine I’ve read in waiting rooms espouses that they are extremely important (then again they ARE always outdated). Then again I’m not sure all the qualities and character I’ve cultivated in my life are good ones but oh well.
I’ve also been told that my countenance is quite pleasant. Given that I’m no model wannabe (or then again….) but at least people can afford to look at me without their lunch being thrust ever upwards. Why just this Sunday someone remarked to me that I could be an air steward with my looks. Then again I don’t know the yard stick for which air stewards are judged by. For all I know the air steward benchmark could hover around having enough hair to charm a guerilla and tell people that there isn't any chicken left. Okay, bad example. How about this? During my grand mother’s 70th birthday, a young boy came up to me and told me he thought I was good looking. Then again I’ve also had young boys come up to me and address me as “auntie”. Okay, another bad example, but you get my point.
Perhaps it’s just that my requirements are a little too high. One sure way to veto any possible candidate is to consider the way she regards herself. If she considers herself a little princess chances are she expects to be treated as much. I for one am no about to spend the rest of my life slaving to keep that misguided belief alive for her. You’d be surprised at the number of girls I’ve have the misfortune to meet that consider themselves to be a little royal something. You know what? I firmly agreed with them.
I am convinced that one of the reasons why they think they are "princesses" is because they have had dads or uncles, who out of misguided affection labeled them as such. Something these goons still believe and cling to even in their 20s.
As with most posts I have to cut short this one because it’s 2:45am and my dad has cajoled me to help him out today so I must sleep.
That is all
Jon.P™
Today’s Jonathan’s Gem:
“Most men live lives of quiet desperation”
- Thoreau
Thursday, January 04, 2007
I hereby decree that hence forth from this day forward a thirteen month be added to the existing calendar. I christen this new month “Christmas”. Now if I can only convince the rest of the world to follow me and seat me as supreme ruler of the galaxy.
I love Christmas, it’s unbiblical, commercialized and over too soon, but I love it still. I love the colossal amount Christmas song that are written about it and what everyone supposes Christmas is about. Songs that we hardy ever really get to sing, just listen to over the radio in the car or in shopping centers. The latter of which seems to have justifiable reason to be e$pecially jolly around this $eason. For that matter it’s not really a season, not to me at least. The only thing that’s really celebrated it it’s eve. It’s the same every year for me, the sleepover (a misnomer) at someone’s over crowded house, the count down, the all night event, the misguided belief that alcohol is necessary to celebrate an event like this and the crawl home with the eternal hope that when you do finally manage to reach home, that it is your own.
This is of course a far cry from my last Christmas. The festivities of which hovered over staying in bunk watching Drew Carey reruns, eating instant noodles and listening to “Chipmunk Christmas” set on repeat. WHICH WAS NOT SAD I might add, just conducive to hmm… contemplating the true meaning of Christmas.
I think I’ll just end with this first. I’ve a full day of nothing to look forward to and I can’t wait to wake up to it.
I know I was supposed to continue with my NS post but I guess that’ll have to wait.
Tonight’s Jonathan’s Gem is : “ You know I’m not really a lonely person, just some times when I’m by myself or other times when I’m with other people.”
That is all
Jon.P™
I love Christmas, it’s unbiblical, commercialized and over too soon, but I love it still. I love the colossal amount Christmas song that are written about it and what everyone supposes Christmas is about. Songs that we hardy ever really get to sing, just listen to over the radio in the car or in shopping centers. The latter of which seems to have justifiable reason to be e$pecially jolly around this $eason. For that matter it’s not really a season, not to me at least. The only thing that’s really celebrated it it’s eve. It’s the same every year for me, the sleepover (a misnomer) at someone’s over crowded house, the count down, the all night event, the misguided belief that alcohol is necessary to celebrate an event like this and the crawl home with the eternal hope that when you do finally manage to reach home, that it is your own.
This is of course a far cry from my last Christmas. The festivities of which hovered over staying in bunk watching Drew Carey reruns, eating instant noodles and listening to “Chipmunk Christmas” set on repeat. WHICH WAS NOT SAD I might add, just conducive to hmm… contemplating the true meaning of Christmas.
I think I’ll just end with this first. I’ve a full day of nothing to look forward to and I can’t wait to wake up to it.
I know I was supposed to continue with my NS post but I guess that’ll have to wait.
Tonight’s Jonathan’s Gem is : “ You know I’m not really a lonely person, just some times when I’m by myself or other times when I’m with other people.”
That is all
Jon.P™
