#12 - New Year's Resolutions

Eheu. This is the last day of 2010.
I'd just got used to writing 2010 when writing the date.
I know that in some places it's already 2011. People are already celebrating the New Year. I mean right now, as I write this, places in Far East Asia are celebrating New Year.

In my household, we never celebrate anything with gusto. We just sit around and watch TV and then go: 'Oh, it's New Year's Day/Christmas/my birthday,' and then carry on watching TV.

I didn't make any New Year's Resolutions last year, because I don't need to because I'm perfect I was too lazy. I shall now proceed to make some up right now:

1. Do some exercise
Yes, I must, or I shall inevitably become as big as this fella:

As good-looking as he is, I don't want to have to resort to a towel to cover myself. Perhaps there are no underpants big enough for that booty of his.

2. Eat less.

See above. I definitely snack too much.

3. Work more.

I've been really lazy this year, which is why I flunked my AS's and now have several re-sits. Oh dear.

4. Get a job.

This depends on the amount of time I have...

5. Don't be a hermit.

I'm quite unsociable in that I'd rather be at home than go to one of those loud parties. Perhaps I'm too old for this kinda life. I think I was born old.

6. Stop smoking.

I don't smoke, and I never will, so at least this resolution will be successful.

7. Stop making stupid jokes.

They're embarrassing.

8. Sleep more.

See these great big black circles around my eyes? That's due to sleep deprivation. Why aren't there more hours in a day?

Usually I make ten resolutions, but I can't think of anymore (for the moment).

I typed 'fatty' onto Google to find that big beauty. He is impressive, man.

Also, what's kind of upsetting is that he has bigger boobs than me.

My mother took a one-way flight to Hong Kong yesterday evening. She's starting work there and living there.

FOREVER.

It's the 1st of January over there in HK.

I miss her.

I mean, who's going to cook our dinners and wash our clothes now?!

#11 - En français ! : Le cercle sans fin

Ouais, il est temps d’écrire encore un post en français. Encore une fois, je voudrais m’excuser pour toutes les erreurs que je ferais.

Récemment, j’ai rendu compte quelque chose d’effrayant. En train de faire mes devoirs, il m’est venu à l’esprit qu’on travaillera pour toujours. J’ai dix-sept ans, et déjà, j’en ai assez de travailler. Oui, je suis assez paresseuse, c’est vrai, mais je me suis arrêtée et j’ai pensé, quand est-ce que je pourrai cesser de travailler ?

En ce moment, je suis en terminale – j’ai hâte de quitter le lycée, mais pour quoi ? Pour aller à l’université, pour travailler plus. Et puis, après ça ? Ben, je devrai trouver un emploi et faire encore de travail. Il n’y a pas de fin !

Et, finalement, quand je prendrai ma retraite, je serai trop vieille pour faire rien…

C’est déprimant, ça. On est comme les petits fourmis travailleuses, sans but ni raison, qui travaillent pour rien – mais, à quoi bon ?

Donc, je me suis résolu de devenir une jeune millionnaire, une propriétaire d’une société réussie, qui pourra prendre sa retraite tôt. Sinon, je me marierai avec un millionnaire, vieux et mourant, qui me laissera son héritage… (Mais où est-ce qu’on peut trouver quelqu’un comme ça ?)

Ben, souhaite-moi bonne chance – on va voir !

#10 - Ahemmafluuurggghhhhh

That title was a noise I just made to clear my throat. It is now clear, thanks for your concern.

I don't get why we write Xmas as an abbreviation of Christmas.
But surely that's Crossmas? Which sounds like an angry celebration in which people just stand around in a huff.

Also, what's with this whole 'Crimbo' business? It sounds awful.

I'd hate to be a turkey. Poor things.

#9 - Song of the Day

Hello, everyone.

It's good to be happy.
Here is a song that is just that - it's called 'Baby' and it's by an awesome man called Devendra Banhart whom I 'discovered' a couple of days ago. He performs on Later With Jools Holland in this video:



I hope you liked that.

Goodnight.

#8 - People Watching

Don't you hate it when a snowflake flies up your nose? Snowflakes are so cold.
Also, I wish people would stop going on about snow. As if it wasn't obvious enough.

Today's topic is People Watching.

(NB: People watching is different to people judging. No. Wait. Actually... maybe it isn't.)

Essentially, it's voyeurism, only less intense and creepy - plus it's socially acceptable.
It's more fun with friends. I was sitting near the window on the first floor of a McDonalds with my friend Eunjee recently, and we had a good view of the pedestrians from above.

How to People Watch (according to Ali, anyway):
Pick a random, interesting-looking stranger on the street (without their knowledge) and make up a story about them:

1st example: Man eating sandwich on a bench. Litter-picker hovers close by.
Explanation: Well obviously, they are spies. Litter-Picker has a coded message to give to Sandwich-Eater. The sandwich is obviously some hi-tech mobile device with which Sandwich-Eater can detect higly confidential information, about which we will never know. Unfortunately, Sandwich-Eater isn't the brightest spark, and has eaten his mobile device before Litter-Picker can transmit the message. They part, and the mission remains unaccomplished.

2nd example: Middle-aged man meets another middle-aged man.
Explanation: The first middle-aged man is called Malcolm. The second is called George. There is no reason. It just is. Malcolm has two teenage children. He recently had a divorce which devastated him. He went to a bar to drown his sorrows. There, he met George, who is gay, and who broke up with his boyfriend the week before. Malcolm has a sexual awakening, realising he is gay, and hooks up with George. No one knows about this, which is why they must have clandestine meetings and frolic in the park.

The best place to people watch has to be on the underground. I think Seann Walsh said this, but going up the escalator on the tube (in London, these escalators are really long) is just intense People Watching.
I mean comparing people watching from inside a cafe to people watching on an escalator is like eating a Chewit, which is sweet, compared to just injecting straight sugar into your veins. Intense, man.

People watching on an escalator is woah. So many faces. So many hot/ugly people. Mind blown.

So, this was Ali, on People Watching. That's it. Have fun.

#7.1 - Paint

I've rediscovered the joys of Paint:


Gentlefolk

There's a tool that works like a paintbrush that I have never used before. It looks really realistic and even 'dries up'. So I've been toying around. It's so fun! It's not easy using a mouse as a brush, so sorry about the squiggly lines. I have unsteady hands.

How productive I've been!
I'm not going to lie. It took me about an hour to finish this...

(It's the end of the longest term ever, OK? Give me a break.)

Gute nacht.

#7 - A Poem: When Jude Law came to the Italian Restaurant

So today, there's going to be no topic to discuss.
Instead, here's a poem that I wrote about Jude Law, whom I saw a few weeks ago and who left me a little starstruck.

His moustache was cool.

When Jude Law came to the Italian restaurant

So I was eating some pasta, messy as usual,

At Bertorelli, a family of four,

And who should walk in, dressed down and casual,

But Dr Watson, or else known as Jude Law.

He came with a friend and asked for a beer,

While all about him the diners whispered,

‘I can’t believe Jude Law is here!’

They wondered what kind of beer he preferred,

But all were too shy to work the courage up

To ask him for a photo of them on their phone,

And then upload this exciting close up

On Facebook as soon as they’d got back home.

They looked indifferent and tried to be cool,

Stared everywhere except at the place where he sat

(I must confess that we did this too),

While Jude Law and friend had a quiet chat.

This went on for a while, and we all nearly did it,

Just eating our dinners and acting composed.

I was too starstruck to actually admit,

That if the chance came I would not oppose.

Such an autograph could fetch a few hundred quid!

But we were too proud to bother the star

And carried on eating calamari (or squid),

While he sat and had a drink at the bar.

But all good things must come to an end,

Jude Law got up and paid for the tab.

He waited patiently for his friend

Before he made to call for a cab,

But a timid young waiter quickly ran up to him,

While we watched in horror as Jude Law concurred

To write his signature on an (unused) napkin.

We couldn’t believe what had just occurred,

And glared with envy at the happy waiter,

Who tucked away safely the small piece of paper.

#6.2 - I am Batman

I think Snowman would be a good superhero name. Maybe not.
Anyway, I was bored (as per usual) and to follow Wandi's example, decided to draw something Christmassy on Paint:



I am Batman.

It is Christmassy, whatever you say.

Goodnight folks. I'm going to try and finish this homework that was in for two weeks ago.

#6.1 - Betty Botter Bought Some Butter

Here's one of the best tongue twisters I've ever heard:

Betty Botter bought some butter
But she said the butter's bitter,
If I put it in my batter
It will make my batter bitter,
But a bit of better butter
Will make my batter better,
So she bought some better butter
Better than the bitter butter,
And she put it in her batter
And her batter was not bitter,
So 'twas better Betty Botter
Bought a bit of better butter.

#6 - Letter to my 30 year old self

Dear Future Ali,

You're 30, so you're pretty old. I hope you don't have any premature grey hairs yet. If you do, don't stress, because that'll only lead to more grey hairs.

I bet you're jealous of your 17 year old self, because I'm young, and you're not.
OK, sorry, 30 year old self. That was kinda harsh. I guess you're kinda young. For an old person.

Hum. I'm not really sure what to write in a letter to myself. I'm also struggling over how to address you. Or me.

First off, I hope I don't kill myself before I reach thirty, otherwise this would be quite a pointless letter.

So I'm at school, and it's pressurizing and stressful. I hope I get a good job, otherwise I'll have worked my ass off for nothing. I don't know what I want to do in life, but even though I joke and say, 'Haha, I'll just become a hobo', I'm kidding. I really hope I don't become some thirty-year-old hobo, living on the streets with a manky dog for company.
But if I do, I'll name him Napoleon and call him Nappy for short.

My friends are awesome. I hope you're still in touch with them. If not, you're a fail.
I think Ish will be a renowned dentist and Clara will be a formidable businesswoman. Not sure about the others, but hopefully they won't shun you for being a hobo.

If I carry on eating when I'm bored and not doing any exercise, I guess I'll be morbidly obese by thirty. Haha, FATTY. Now you can compete in the Guinness World Book of Records as the fattest person ever.
I hope you don't go and get plastic surgery and end up looking like Michael Jackson. (No disrespect, MJ.)

At the moment, I'm sitting around when I should be doing some work. I'm wondering which university I'll be going to. Yes, the future is quite a frightening place.
I hope you live somewhere awesome. I've always wanted to live in a quirky flat in the middle of town. Perhaps in London, or Paris, or New York, or Hong Kong. Don't go and live in the countryside. You'll obtain a funny accent and I don't need to remind you that we suffer from hayfever. Unless by the year 2023 they find a cure for it.

I'm hoping that by the age of thirty I'll have found someone I love. You don't have to be married. Marriage isn't that important. If you don't have anyone to love, that's cool. Buy some cats. Be happy.

Yeah. I think if you're happy, then it's all good.

Yours truly,
Ali/Me/Past Ali

I don't like putting 'xxx' at the bottom of letters or cards or emails. Also it's rather narcissistic to do that in a letter to oneself.

#5 - My awkwardness

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and those of you in between.

I haven't posted recently because a good friend of mine decided to change my password to prevent me from procrastinating, and to concentrate on some more important work. But I think she failed to realise that I also had access to Facebook and Youtube (Procrastination Heaven).

(Thanks anyway, Clara.)

SO.
Awkwardness.
Yes.
I have a feeling this may become quite a personal post. Ah, what the hell. This is going to be a personal post.

I think I would qualify as the Most Awkward Person In The World, hands down.

I'm not sure what it is. Perhaps I was born with a part of my brain missing. The part that makes you able to talk coherently. I'm terrible at talking to other humans, let alone complete strangers.
If I've known you for long enough, it's OK, I'm (kinda) comfortable, but if you put me in a room with strangers and expect me to socialise, then you've just put me in a living nightmare.
Not being much of a conversationalist, it's difficult for me to initiate any kind of talk with someone unfamiliar.

Things I do that make me awkward:

• I grin a lot. So much so that my cheek muscles hurt.
• I say mundane things, and then try too hard to be funny, and when I think of something funny to say, the moment is gone, and if I said it now, it'd be even more awkward.
• I laugh too much (at things that aren't funny) and also really loudly. Becomes an annoying honking noise. Guess it would be even more awkward if I snorted.
• I never know where to look. Not confident enough to look people in the eyes, so I look everywhere else.
• On the other hand, if I'm feeling confident enough, I stare so hard at people's eyes it makes them awkward and so they look away.
• Sometimes I finish other people's sentences. Sometimes that doesn't work. Most of the time that doesn't work.

Of course, it's worse if the person I'm talking to is absolutely beautiful or really clever. I'm easily intimidated, though I try not to show it. I stammer, or say nonsensical things that are grammatically incorrect.
Hmm. Yes, for some reason, my grammar worsens when I'm nervous.

So, uh, yeah...

That was such an awkward post.

#4 - The letter hath arrived!/The unknown

This post comes in two parts. Well, three, kinda. OK, three parts.

1) News: snow and stuff
So God decided to shed his dandruff on us today.
It was a substantial amount to have fun with, but not nearly enough for a snow day. My school will stay open forever, no joke. Last year, we only had one snow day, while all the other kids practically had a week off school.
I won't go on, because I'm sick of snow already.

2) My news: Hamlet and stuff
I was watching 'Hamlet' at the National, otherwise I'd have posted earlier. 'Twas very good indeed. Roy Kinnear, who plays Hamlet, shows such raw emotion and versatility. He's awesome. Watch it.

One thing I gotta say though, Shakespeare: your play is a tad too long. (3 hours 45 minutes!)

Oh, and Ruth Negga, who appears in Misfits, plays Ophelia! I thought she looked familiar...

So the big news: the letter has arrived!

Finally.

Actually, I admit to being a bit impatient.

Is patience a virtue?

OK, I can't be bothered to go into that. I sorta want to sleep. Maybe. I'll decide later.

My Russian teacher has asked me several times whether or not I had received the letter.
As I'd kept telling her that I hadn't, she'd said, 'No news is good news'. Which, in a way, has some kind of truth. What you don't know can't hurt you, right?
Of course, what I was fearing was a rejection letter, but the whole not knowing and waiting was driving me insane (like Ophelia... Ooh everything goes back to Hamlet!) - I just wanted an answer!
This... un-knowledge (what's the opposite of knowledge? Oblivion? Ignorance? That's not quite the right word I want to use here...), anyway, yes, this UN-knowledge, leads me to my third and final point...

3) The unknown and stuff
What I want to talk about is the unknown. Briefly, because it's now approaching 1am, and sleep beckons.
You think you're clever, right? Don't lie, I know you do.
But think of all the things you don't know. There are more things you don't know than you will ever know in your entire life. If you understand what I'm saying.
Let's try again. I'm going to try and illustrate this by using a diagram:

Although (I think) knowledge is infinite, let's say, for the purposes of this explanation, that the circle represents all knowledge.

The tiny red dot at the bottom of the circle, represents your knowledge. This is an exaggerated diagram, because the extent of your knowledge is smaller than this red dot. It's so miniscule, it shouldn't even be visible.

Not even the cleverest person that ever lived, or will live, will ever know everything there is to know.

You see, knowledge is infinite, because it encompasses all the things that we won't ever know - for example, things that will happen in the future, things that happened in the past and a constantly growing number of other things.

I've used the word 'thing' too much. Ah well.

Alright, that's it, I'm going to sleep. Sorry to leave you so abruptly, but sleep has stopped beckoning and is now dragging me by the ear.

Have a good, um, morning. Or day. Or evening...

Holy moly guacamole - it's December!

Pinch punch, first of the month and no returns.

#3.1 - Another thing: Cellar door

I have sort of inadvertently discovered the structure to my blog. I like it, so I shall stick to it.

Apparently the most euphonius (i.e. aesthetically pleasing to the ear) combination of words is 'cellar door'.
Say it.
Disregarding any connotations you might have with an actual cellar door, the two words combined do sound smooth and the vowels are quite pleasing. Perhaps it would be easier for a non-English speaker to judge.

My personal favourite word is 'mellifluous', I think. I like the word 'scissors' and I think the word 'flabbergasted' is funny. 'Cacophony', 'catastrophe' and 'supercilious' are also fun to say.

Actually, there are loads of words that I like the sound of.
For example, CAKE, and ICE CREAM.
I'm kidding. I mean I'm not kidding about how I love cake and ice cream, but they aren't the most beautiful sounds perceived by ear.
Hmm, actually, 'ice cream' sounds alright.

Ah, one word that sounds really awesome and onomatopoeic is 'жужжить', which is Russian for 'to buzz' (as in what bees do).

__________________________________________________________
A mini Russian pronunciation lesson:
жужжить - zhuzhZHIT'

That pronunciation looks a bit odd.
'ж' is pronounced like the s in treasure
'у' is pronounced like 'oo'
'и' is pronounced like the i in bit, only a bit longer
'т' is the equivalent of the English 't'
'ь' is the soft sign. It softens the т, so it sounds like there's a soft s on the end.
__________________________________________________________

'жужжить' - to buzz

Finally...

According to some, the most disgusting word in the English language is...

'moist'.

(Although this probably has something to do with its meaning rather than its sound...)

Post your favourite or least favourite word in the comments box below!

Good night, everyone. Have some awesome dreams.

#3 - FRUSTRATION

Good evening, my lovelies.

Woops, that was the old lady inside of me coming out there.

Anyway. Frustration. Quite.

It's a feeling that I'm experiencing right now. I was going to write all this with Caps Lock on, but decided against it, because I'm calm.

CALM, I TELL YOU.

Calm, like an enraged beast.
Tranquil, like a stormy sea.
Ooh, poetic, eh?

(That, Wandi, is sheet poetry, but not poetry about sheet.)

You see, I'm waiting for a very important e-mail or letter to come (I won't go into details), and I've been waiting for a while now. Lots of people at my school have received this e-mail/letter already.

Oh, to watch their smug faces as they tell me: 'Don't worry, it'll come!' and their smug smiles as they walk off smugly in their own smug world.

Envy burns my soul.

(I joke, I joke. Clara, I'm immensely proud of you. FO' REAL, MAN. Here's a celebratory virtual hug: *HUG*)

The fact that other people have something that I don't, and that I really want, makes me jealous. But meh, I'll talk about jealousy another time.


How is frustration caused? I suppose impatience has something to do with it. I can't get what I want, and it's frustrating. It's about the inability to do something, or, in my case, have something. It's about not having control over something. No matter what I do, I can't get this letter or e-mail, or whatever the hell it is, to come to me any more quickly than it will, and all I can do is wait.



Get here quicker!

So. I'm waiting. And I shall remain calm and collected. I won't let this frustration get to me, because one way, or another, I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha... (Woo, Blondie!)
Yes. There. I suppose what you have to do to avoid this frustration is to distract yourself. That's what I'll be doing.



Because I'm new at this blogging thing, I wonder how I should involve you guys (i.e. my meagre following) who are reading this.

Leave a comment! When was the last time you were frustrated?

#2.1 - En français!: Mon petit frère

Je faisais mes devoirs de français, mais je me suis ennuyée assez vite…

Bon, cette fois, je vais essayer d’écrire en français. Au moins, je vais pratiquer et utiliser la langue.  J’espère que ça peut m’aider…

Avant de commencer, je voudrais m’excuser pour des erreurs que je fais.

Mon petit frère, Dougie, voulait que j’écrive à propos de lui, mais, maintenant que j’ai décidé d’écrire en français, il ne pourra comprendre. Ben, tant pis pour lui ! Je peux l’insulter, et il ne saura jamais. Mwahaha.

Il est vraiment drôle. Alors, je ris de lui, mais pas avec lui. Il fait des choses les plus stupides, je vous jure. C’est difficile de croire que nous sommes apparentés.

Marge Simpson? Ou Dougie?

Récemment, il a décidé de couper ses propres cheveux, tout seul. Donc il l’a fait, et, parce qu’il pense que c’est vachement chouette d’avoir des côtés courts et des cheveux longs sur le sommet de la tête, il a l’air bête, parce que sa coiffure est ridicule ! Comment il est stupide !

L’autre jour, je lui ai remarqué : « Si tu continues comme ça, tu ressembleras Marge Simpson ! »

Il n’a pas ri, mais je pense qu’il n’a pas bien compris.

De plus, il fait souvent la gueule, surtout le matin. Il râle contre tout et fronce les sourcils, comme s’il a des règles douloureuses. On peut affirmer qu’il n’est pas du matin.

Mais, tout bien considéré, il est un bon frère. Bien qu’il pète tout le temps. Blague à part, c’est dégoutant. Je le frappe chaque fois qu’il pète.

Non, enfin, je pense qu’il est un bon garçon, la plupart du temps. Il me fait rire et il est raisonnable.

#2 - Apologies

Hello, reader.

I just deleted my last post, and I feel I should apologise to you for having done that. It feels like I've cheated.
I refuse to write a diary-like blog. Little events are OK, but no diary entries. I don't think you'd be very interested in my day-to-day life.
[I got up at 11.30am. I had brunch. I watched TV. I did some homework...]

Because I began this blog for no apparent reason, I'm having trouble giving my blog a purpose.
So I've decided to just talk about topics. Random topics, as I have been doing so far. I prefer this. I can rant, or philosophise (haha - like my tiny brain could do that) or just lay my thoughts out. Don't expect any answers.

Right. So. The apology, eh?

We say 'sorry' all the time. Especially British people. In fact, we say it so much, it ceases to have real meaning anymore.
How do you justify an action? Can saying sorry make everything alright again?
NO.

Ooh, there was an answer.

You're wrong, Elton John. Sorry does not seem to be the hardest word.

But seriously, if someone said sorry to you, can you let it go immediately?
Of course, it depends what it is that they've done to you, but sometimes it's difficult to forgive:

Murderer to murdered victim:                      'Um, sorry.'
Murder victim:                                            '...'

[Meanwhile, in heaven/hell/purgatory...]

Victim (looking down/up from heaven/hell/purgatory): 'Oh curse you, spawn of Satan!'
Murderer (looking down/up):                      'What was that?!... Am I hearing voices?'
Victim (rubbing his hands gleefully):             'Ahaha! Let's drive this man mad!'

Aha, forgiveness. Forgiveness goes hand in hand with repentance and apologies.
If everyone were to forgive and forget, think of all the tensions and fights that would disappear.
As it is, however, people may forgive, or at least say that they forgive, but I don't think anyone truly forgets.

I hope you'll forgive me for having deleted my last post.

Yours faithfully,
Ali

#1.2 - Yet another thing: The possibility of snow

Having realised there was no way I would do any work from between now and when I go to sleep, I've decided to blog, because at least it's a half-constructive form of procrastination, as I was just discussing with Fishface.

The subject I shall be addressing is that of snow.

Drawing faces in the snow on the pavement while waiting for a bus in Switzerland.

The problem with snow is that it's really only fun for kids. But even then, the excitement wears off after a while.

Kids see snow as some kind of wonderland:
'SNOW! LET'S PLAY! LET'S BUILD STUFF! LET'S EAT IT!'
Adults see snow as a nuisance:
'SNOW? Oh ****! How am I going to get to work on time? This is going to be a nightmare...'
When I become an adult, will I think like that?
In England, when it snows, the whole country becomes paralysed.
The councils will put grit on the roads, and all the snow will melt and then it will become an ugly brown gritty mess. Grown ups prefer this ugly brown gritty mess.

If you go to say, Scandinavia, or Canada, or wherever it is that has lots of snow a lot of the time, it's pretty standard.
I went to Switzerland a bit ago, and as soon as I saw snow, I went and hugged it. Besides the fact that it was a really cold hug, the Swiss folk looked at me and thought: 'Standard Chinese tourist who's never seen snow before.'

I hope it snows during a weekday. You see, if it snows in the weekend, I'd feel cheated of a potential snowday.




Lesson of the Day:
Never eat yellow snow.

Pretty self-explanatory, really.

#1.1 - Another thing: Kit Kats

Ah, Kit Kats. You beautiful things.

Yesterday, I decided to try using a Kit Kat as a straw. It was some event. For me, anyway.

After school, a few of my friends and I went to a newsagent's nearby and bought a Kit Kat each. I bought a dark chocolate one, because I hadn't tried one before.

We then went to Caffe Nero, ordered hot chocolate, bit the ends off our Kit Kats, and tried to draw hot chocolate through the wafer.

It was quite a challenge. Well, I say challenge, but what I mean is that it didn't really work.

I may have got a tiny bit of hot choc, but either it was melted Kit Kat chocolate mingled with saliva, or else it was a figment of my imagination, I don't really know.

But whatever, because it was yummy.

Try breaking off pieces of Kit Kat and chucking it into your cup of hot chocolate. The chocolate melts and you're left with extra chocolatey hot chocolate and wonderful, chocolate-infused, wafery goodness.

Ahh... Chocolate.

It was cold and dark outside, and there we were, sitting in a cosy cafe, hands wrapped around warm cups of hot chocolate.

How many times have I written the word 'chocolate' here?!






Actually, I gotta admit that I felt a bit sick later. Too much of a good thing.

#1 - Peer pressure

Hello.

I hope you're having a nice day/afternoon/evening depending on where you are and what time you read this.

So as you can divulge from the title, I'm going to mention something about peer pressure.
An example of this social phenomenon is, well, this very blog.

Why is everyone writing a blog? Well if everyone else is, I should.

Initially, I wasn't going to bow down to this peer pressure. I'm very good at steeling myself and doing what I think I should do. I don't drink, smoke, do drugs or whatever like all the other kids do, and that there is an example of my not yielding to peer pressure. Woo, go me. I JOKE. You do whatever the hell pleases you, that's what I say.

Anyway, I scoffed at all the bloggers, yet here I am now.
Why then, you may ask, did this 'Ali' person decide to join the blogging sphere?
Well, honestly, it's not like I have anything particularly awesome to say.
Jokes, everything I say is awesome
It's a form of procrastination. And I like procrastinating. Who wants to work? Why do stuff you don't want to do? It's a free world, right? So why do we continue to do what we're told? Go to school, go to work, do what all the others do?

Let's start a REBELLION.
I joke again. Maybe later. I'm far too lazy.









Gee, THANKS, Wandi... Oh someone stop me from procrastinating...