The sufferings.....

I'm blogging!

Which means it's exam time. Yah, god damn exams!!! Argh. I so beh tahan myself. Promised myself to finish reviewing one section. Not even through which 10 pages. Its already 430. How??

Sigh.

Chicago, thus far

Hello,

It's been awhile hasn't it? Life has been very busy and hectic. But then again, when is it ever not busy and hectic, right? Summer is a great time to be in Chicago. There are loads to do and I've made some really good friends here so far. I've just spent my entire weekend out and just having fun. But now that I'm back home, suddenly, I'm getting pangs of homesickness.

I hate being so far from home. I hate being away from people that I care about and that cares about me. I hate having to survive on my own. I hate having to do everything for myself.

I just want everything to be alright from now onwards.

I'm not depressed or unhappy now. I just wish I was home. It's not about the food, weather or places. It's because it will always be my home and it will always be my special place in this whole wide world. Always.

:(

Today wasn't a happy day. So while I was walking home, I flipped open my phone to call someone to talk to. And then I got disappointed. Because I just realised that there's no one I could call. And now that I'm home and finished with my chores, I think I'm slumped into depression again.

Edit: I wrote that on Tuesday. I think I was really unhappy that day. Though now, if you asked me why, I can't put my finger on it. Am I happy today? Not really, no. But I'm not unhappy. Life is turning into one big routine now. I don't like it but I think I need it for now. At least till I'm done with my exams. Or when I give up with them. Aih. Dunno la. I'm just in the mood for ranting again today. I think my blog is one big rant fest. But then it's better than bitching about other people right? At least I rant about my own stuff.

Man U yay!

Ok, this post has nothing to do with Man U or football. I just had to harp it.

I'm listening to BassAgents while typing this post. So hard to sit quietly and blog. I usually don't like hard dance like this, but this I actually quite likey. Damn noisy, hope my neighbours don't mind. Ok, this can be ignored too cause it has nothing to do with this post actually.

What is this post about? I have no idea yet. I just felt like I needed to write something. To keep those 6 ppl, in Msia, Uk and somewhere in Europe updated. Though I have a feeling not all 6 reads, but some will read and tell the others, so ok la. Hopefully.

*Edit*
So initially I had nothing to write about but now I do. SO, after taking a nice shower and deciding I should have watermelon followed by an awesome Baileys milkshake, I walk into the kitchen and grabbed the box of watermelon. I was walking out, busy stabbing at one of the pieces when the opened box hit the wardrobe door and the whole thing fell. 5 pieces of watermelon went flying on my cream colored carpet. I wanted to cry. It looked like someone had been stabbed a few gazillion times and left to die in my apartment. And I brilliantly tried to clean it by spraying loads of Fantastik on it while pouring water and frantically putting Bounty all over the stains. I hope it works. As of now, it's still wet so I can't tell. Please let it be normal again *prays*.

Trust me to give you stupid acts like this. Argh.

I wish I can fly first-class only

I wrote this while I was dying of fatigue and boredom at JKF:

Here I am, at 5:30 am in JFK airport. There is still no internet here and I am typing this into WordPad first before uploading it to blogger later. By the time I reach Chicago, it should be 8:53 am local time there. That means it would have been 37 hours later from when I left KLIA. And by the time I reach my hotel, I would be dead, some 40 hours later. But die I could not, because I have a 1 pm appointment scheduled with apartment hunters to go scavenge for my future apartment. When will this long torturous journey end damnit??

I flew on MAS from KL to Heathrow and it was a fully booked flight. Which means, no free upgrades and being sandwiched for 13 hours. I've never bee upgraded for free (or with charge) before in my life. I've heard of it many times, but me, I have no such luck. So I figured maybe I would have it better with Virgin en route to JFK. Somehow, people like to go where I'm going, when I'm going. So, that’s another packed flight. The seats on V are much smaller compared to MAS (much like NWA or UA), and it’s a little cramped although it’s a 2-4-2 seating compared to the 3-5-3 of MAS. Also, the flight attendants are ALWAYS rushing on V and they tend to bump into me while I was desperately nodding off. The only upside is that V has a huge personal screen and it has a humongous library of movies.

When I reached JFK, I was really ready to stretch and enjoy some form of communication (i.e. my phone and msn!) besides with flight attendants and the person beside me. While on MAS, an Aussie dude was making conversation with me but it took so much effort as I was tired and trying to finish the first season of Grey's Anatomy (which I did), so eventually he gave up. So anyway, in JFK I thought I should get to whichever terminal that I would be flying from and stay there. *Long sentences and incoherence ahead*. That thought got me to walk really far, go on the AirTrain, get off the AirTrain, go up the elevator, then walk across the street, got some complicated instructions from a disgruntled guard, went down the elevator, walked around corner (this is outside in the cold, I only had a sweatshirt, sweatpants and slippers on), up the ramp, across the street, up a ramp again, crossed yet another street, only to be told to go back across the street, walk straight ahead and turn left. En route, my luggage, which weighs more than I do, fell 10 million times, the tiny little trolley got stuck 5 million times and the entire thing tipped over 2 million times. My hands were practically numb, toes were blue and I probably looked like some horror movie "thing". And this is not where the torture ends. Read on.

So this Terminal 3. If you are ever in JFK and is waiting for 10 hours in the wee hours of the morning and your flight should be in Terminal 3, DO NOT GO THERE TILL YOU ARE READY TO CHECK IN. There is practically nothing there but a row of chairs. No wireless internet, no cafe, no shops, no nothing. Nada. It took some effort to find the restroom and I had to go downstairs to salvage some food from the vending machine to not starve to death. I think I spent a good 3 hours on the phone, before venturing to find the restroom. When I was freshening up (yeah, still as fresh a stale fish after), some nice Chinese lady came in and tried to talk to me about some religion? Cult? I don't know. I didn't understand her that well with her and I doubt she understood me well too. After I was done, I tried to go downstairs to where I got a piece of pathetic bun initially to get some water from the water fountain or the vending machines. They closed off the area!!! Those bastards won't let me in and there was no fountain or vending machine upstairs. So I sat dehydrated for many many hours until a nice guy, who was polishing the floor heard me complaining over the phone (I also asked him earlier if there were any fountains on the floor) that I was dying of thirst, brought me over a whole bottle of water! I am forever indebted, but I did have my earlier doubts about him poisoning me and stealing my luggage. I'm still alive, so this makes me feel guilty for doubting a kind act.

Now, its 5:50 am, I have finally checked-in, got a piece of sandwich and a hot chocolate from Starbucks. My first meal in 10 hours. I thought when I have checked-in I would have wireless access. I was/am wrong. I'm still typing from WordPad. Someone kill me now. And people wondered why I didn't want to leave. Would you like to go through this torture? Are you masochistic? Huh? I hope it gets better from here.

Ps - I think this is the longest entry I've ever typed. And its really cold here. Why??!!!!!!!!!!!!1111one

I thought I was going to edit it but now I'm lazy.

Why must it be so cold in April?

Remember how I was complaining about not having spring clothes when I leave for the US? Well, apparently I don't really need spring clothes. Its as cold as winter. Bah. All I need are my winter clothing and now I'm hoping that my VERY DEAR and NICE friend in DSM will send my boxes to me soon cause I may freeze without my sweaters. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that a cool April will continue on to a cool summer so that there will be no blistering hot heat wave going around. Pray, I say. Pray with me guys.

Oh well, other news. I've been trying to pack and if any of you know me, you'll know that I hate packing. I hate it with passion. I never thought I would (fill with word that means hate but stronger) packing so much before I moved to the US. And then all hell broke loose the first time I had to move out of the dorms. I think between rushing to hand in that damn last minute assignment and packing, I wanted to kill myself. I was living on the fourth floor which is actually the fifth level of the building, so there was a high chance of dying. But I figured it wasn't a high enough chance. So, I had all of a couple of hours of sleep to be able to move out of the damn place. Argh, and so far, I've had to do massive (in my books they are massive) move outs 3 times already. Hated every single one of them. Yeap. I am usually more excited with move-ins but I dunno. We'll see how my latest move in go. But the point of the story is that I hate packing.