#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).

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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.
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'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...