trim the toes to fit the boast, touch up your paint honey, let's go.

Personal Pep Rally.

Yeah yeah YEAHH!!

It is officially Monday of a new week. Not that there is anything particularly special about this week. I am DETERMINED to make this week awesome. Not like the last, superbly UNawesome week. In fact it was as bad as a week can get without someone dying, a bff eating her bf (oh! that reminds me of One Tree Hill. Rachel: "But you were effing her bf when you were bffs.") or me waking up and finding that it's day one, semester one, year one of mass comm all over again. I had a dream like that once, it was kinda surreal and kinda masochistic because a tiny tiny part of me kinda enjoyed it. Kinda, in this context meaning like shit, wow, erm...yay? nononono, SHIT! EW... but kinda yayish.

So be prepared to be awesomely awed into awful awed-ness.

Miho is unleashing her awesome drive to do work twinkling with professional humor and useful omigosh,thanksogeniusmiho,thiswillraiseourgpatoanunprecedented5.0 wit. (i should make that into separate words so you can actually read it, but BOO to you, notasawesomeasme you!)

Miho will be awake and furiously inhaling all the information from lectures like they are vapors that will tell me where to find a copy of the Cave of the Golden Rose series.

Miho will plan the bangkok trip singlehandedly, since SOME mothers are too buggered lazy to take on the itinerary. She will also try not to let her enthusiasm for shopping, eating, cheap massages!! ladyboys, hotels, flying, adventures!! dampen her enthusiasm for schoolwork.

Miho will cease her dependence on spellcheck.

Miho will be on time for ALL her classes. REALLY LA.

Miho will type Miho so many times that the M key will drop off her laptop from exhaustion, Google will start to show this blog in the first page of web search results and Miho spontaneously combusts from exceeding her allocated usage of self reference in the third-person.



I will score A+ at this week la, i'm so hyped up. Oh sorry, i beg pardon, Miho will.

Spot The Helicat.

Idea:

Book Tees, like the currently too trendy Band Tees, would be so awesome.

Fangirl in agony.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

K Fed to star in One Tree Hill.

see? this is why i don't read tabloids. here is final proof that this abysmal show i'm unreasonable loyal to sucks the unformed shit out of the chicken's ass.

that's it, i'm moving to the Heros/Grey's Anatomy camp.

Did anyone read Bizarro on Monday?

delirious

you know that freaky silver lining to everything?

it's just like that shiny cutting edge to gilded knifes, don't be fooled.

and that was your dose of creepy paranoia for the day!

you know what? suddenly i really want to make a puffy white cloud bag with silver coloured cloth lining. that's be a gagfest!

and work life wasn't the stuporous (hope that was spelt right) silent draggedout scream i thought it was gonna be. i cite: dancing at pumproom, badminton mixathons, hilarious gym-bunnying, inprompto (read as sneaky) trips to town when le CEO too is out of town, emo coffee talks (depressing. you mean i'm NOT going to grow out of this emoshit?), and the bash that they are planning for me next of next month. excuse me while i hug myself.

but i still think i was an idiot to sign up for part-timing. never mind the tripled pay.

to wrap up this random post (meant to kickstart this tired old blog):

waffle tuesday with the Shaft and the Mushroom Banana in a bit.

would me in a dress be weird? afterall, i've already done the cheerleader (HEH.) and the bar-top dancing (pumproom. lucky these people i don't have to take seriously at work, otherwise, weirdsville, here i come!)

i got a massive kick out of freaking my kitten out today with my meowing ringtone. he's been ignoring me since.

2,000,000 (okay, okay, only 3 zeros. pft.) assignment due soon. work done = 0%

i left my favourite lip balm at work. seriously contemplating going back to pick it up. but no, cant go near toa payoh on my week off!

new issue of MADE magazine should be out by now!!!! YAYYYY.

working adult friends? totally rock. no more quibbling over a dollar here and there. in fact, i practically have to thumb-wrestle them into letting me pay for my meals and drinks. they think my pay miniscule and my idea of needing to demonstrate my independence, and i quote, "so 80s." er. whaaaaaaa?!?!

i must have gotten over my hatred of all things pink, heartish, ribbony and frilly, because im currently lusting over these, plus my usual menswear inspired pieces:

and here is a picture that made my day.

I was at the taxi stand this morning, queuing up to use the ATM, when a RUDE ANG
MOH come by and JUMP OUT FROM MY CUPBOARD!!!!!!!!!
I was so shocked I
immediately took off my slipper and SMACKED HIM OVER THE HEAD. But you know what
the fucker did? HE IGNORED ME AND CONTINUE TO JUMP OUT FROM MY
CUPBOARD!!!! I was going to confront the RUDE ANG MOH further, but I was
scared he might punch my fragile new fake nose, deforming it permanently and
leaving me ugly forever. :( So I walked away quietly.SO ANGRY! To that RUDE ANG
MOH, I HOPE YOUR TESTICLES DROP OFF!
I am so fucking irritated with that
RUDE ANG MOH! So what if he is a RUDE ANG MOH? Doesn't mean he can just JUMP OUT
FROM MY CUPBOARD like that. If every single RUDE ANG MOH come and JUMP OUT FROM
MY CUPBOARD, I still need to live meh?!!

-this entry was hilariously brought to you by XX Blog Generator at kennysia.com
hop over and get your very own xiaxie-esque post!

Hello.


Text ihearttofart[space]yourname[space]the colour of your last fart[space]the value in tim tams(TM) you are willing to exchange for a kitten who farts like the Lord Sage of Beer to my mobile number.



My mobile has crashed 3 times and been replaced since the last post. It's thirsty for the blood of the many, many mobile numbers that it lost. There is a gapping void in its memory card, (apart from the closest(or closet) darlings, who actually didnt really miss a beat since they text like there's no tml and are the type-like-they-talkers. this part probably no make sense-o. boo. woo. foo. right, went off on a tangent.)


anyhooo
so yeah, call or text, or just holler on msn the next time you see me. havent got your numbers anymore, so its your turn to take the initiative!


plus it'll really take my reeeling mind off that troubling thing. damn audacious cat farted so loudly that i thought my lil brother had sneaked into my room. dayyyummm. i would try to stand ready to record the next catfart. that track will be the prize up for grabs, for the sms contest above. HEH HEH. if my new mobile doesn't wilt from the ghastly task, let's catch up, folks!



p.s:
i've given up updating regularly here. especially about my social life. i get bored rigid doing it, like im doing a narrative recount essay for 30 marks. which sounds wookay and all, but i always exceeded the word limit in my (looooong-winded)essays back when, and get points docked off. ditto now, when i do the wordvomit. so i'd rather do the yak & bitch sessions and swap around, wouldn't you?

"Enigma is overrated. Especially at 3am."


Oh my god. I am an absolute bimbo.

I think i am the last person in the blogsphere to realise that comments on your blog? they need to be MODERATED.

Yes. This is true.


Especially when you were the paranoid goon WHO SWITCHED ON THE MODERATE COMMENTS BUTTON!

It is completely possible to drown in squirmy yayness and abject mortification, boys and girls. See exhibit Miho.

Oh, and it turns out, some dumbfucks were hatespamming me afterall. months ago too. MWAHAHAHA, see paranoia is therefore proven to be not overrated.


So this is overdue but...


helloo aisyah, yes i caught the vday love with the bestie and co. whatever happened to pam's workshops?

helloo fifiqah (i've been whiny, how typical. tagged u plenty tho. haha!)

and eunice (yes i made those pants, they languish in my cupboard as terminally too comicgeeky to wear anywhere. pfffft.)

diana, tagged you back!


yes anonymous, i am from gess. how the heck did u find me, this is semisecret (read: unpublicized)

anyway i was here to show off some pictures. none mine, that'll come when im unlazier.

the library at trinity college.

the closest i ever came to such dignified, droolable beauty was the old MPH House at Stamford Rd. that smell was incredible. all musty and thick with the decades, tinged with adventure, knowledge and aged wood.




I was going to say something akin to "high on a bad movie" or self-derogative, but why try to make excuses for having a grand ol time? from fana's crappy ol camphone.

presenting the escapades of

dumbjock, airhead and bugsy.

i scammed a few people into thinking this was my tatt.

i wish, balls! this is one of the loveliest i've ever seen. somehow i doubt johnny two thumbs can really do work of this calibre. i also doubt my ability to pay for it.

and one for the road.

snagged this from shaf. i only camwhore when im with a camwhore, so these are probably the only recent pics of me i've got.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Well Mass Comm, you've always managed to keep us on our toes. I don't see why I expected our year 3 electives to be any different.

Had briefing today. Glad i wasn't goofing off as usual, we were thrown quite a few curves.



Kaa-Boom 1 - No Book Writing & Publishing. @#$%^&* though i wasn't that convinced i wanted it anyway..


Kaa-Boom 2 - IMC + Advance PR or Advanced Advertising. ONLY. i got Ms. Kwan's "now-calm-down-you-rowdies" rationalisation, really. But by that point you might as well specialise, no?


which brings us to...


Kaa-Boom 3 - specialised diplomas.

the moment they were mentioned (and explained for the slower ones), there was a minor uproar as we went "whoa, WHAT??", which was almost silently deafened by the collective purring as the year 2 MCMers' brains starting to strategise like crazy.

The wheels in our heads went round and round, round and round as we churned out a dozen ways we can seize/will be blocked from seizing our dream electives. and the well-oiled minds of our darling top 20% churned all the harder, cos they can (and SO will, selfish pigs that they are:) ) have 4 electives, instead of the usual puny 3.

no fair balls, limited slots yo!

low-atus?

i feel like coming off my hiatus. and not at the same time.
no, it's probably not a pisces of the two worlds thing. it's probably a neurotic miho thing.
but this space feels worn out. lightly used, and much chided for it by admited-lurkers-who-do-not-comment. 55 or so posts, quite pathetic man. WOOT.



---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


what is the longest you've gone, just sitting and staring, daydreaming and not making a sound?

what's your stoning record?

have you felt your flacid tongue thickened and curdled, filling your mouth with its stillness, until it begins to be the sealing glue, ironic and swelling?

and when you try to flex your lips open just to keep in practise, do they seem so inherently reluctant that you can't be shat to finish the move?

do you loathe to share the conversations in your head?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


i claim my pouting rights.