Four days of neozep-induced bedrest later, I am done counting mosquito bites, staging a vendetta against tissue rolls, and wondering if the veins on my arm lead to Emerald City. I thought there was nothing more to do while I stayed horizontal, but I got pushed off the boredom cliff.

This is a list of things I have accomplished in attempts to ward off the enemy. Usually I'd be content with a book, but the fever made my head feel like an infuriating carousel every time I picked up Crime and Punishment (oh how apt). Also, we have no interwebs at home, causing my Farm Town corn and coffee crops to go to waste (gaaah). Still, I had to avoid unleashing the volcano of vomit I was ready to spew keep myself occupied.

I managed to:

1. Listen. Too much of The Format is good for yer health, but waking up to the neighbor's stereo blaring "Shine Jesus, Shine" is not. Also, our virus-infested home is an orchestra of coughs and sneezes now, with the occasional trumpet from a noseblow. Don't buy tickets to this concert, please.
2. Play. After tiring of Tekken 5 on Neia's PSP, I gave Patapon a shot. It's like mini-300 with less blood and more flame-arrows. Haha. Also, creating warriors out of titanium ore and cherry tree branches is surprisingly fun.

3. Think. (But unfortunately, the soldiers of profundity couldn't get past my shield of germs and antibiotics. Then again, they never have.) There are too many ants; do they procreate like it's the first day after the apocalypse? Is there such a thing as a unilemma? Probably not. When delirious with a fever, one thing you can really miss is a bath. I'm an insignificant pimple on the world's cheek and when I die it's one less blemish to worry about. The ceiling would be an interesting place to live in. If I put together all the paper I've used, I could build um something to fill up the trash can.
4. Watch. Movies with Sunshine in their titles don't really produce the expected result. Oh well. They did manage to contribute to my involuntary blubbering. Thank you, Olive and Clementine.
5. Sleep. A lot. I have been taking my dreams for granted. Hm. Perhaps drifting off to the greatness that is Karen O has something to do with it. Silence tends to worry me, even more than seeing my nose tremble on its own.

I'd like to end this properly, but I'm tiredno,w goo dby e.

Hm. I wonder if alpha-carotene decided to stay behind the curtains when its successor, beta-carotene, became more famous.

Also, why is there no alphamax? Was it too much? If the "max" in betamax indicates "maximum," then "betamax" should just be called "alpha." Shouldn't it? Fnr.

It's these morning-walk thoughts that make me believe my skull's gone toilet bowl. :|


Edit: According to Sony's own history webpages, the name came from a double meaning: beta being the Japanese word used to describe the way signals were recorded onto the tape, and from the fact that when the tape ran through the transport it looked like the Greek letter "Beta" (β). The suffix -max came from "maximum" to suggest greatness. [Source]

So no, they just couldn't call it alpha. Haha. Now I can get to corprithorinns (for a wany ear today).

My weekends are spent with Exaggeration. It's not my companion. It just moves about beside me, requiring attention as if it can't exist without me noticing it. But it does. Oh, it does.

Some family reunion this is going to be. Grar. We have an overdose of variety songs and 8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1's, with the added compensation of food. The gooey peachy-peachy probably isn't that good of a reason to put up with the whole affair, but I can't think of anything else. Company? No. I'm actually a very selfish shellfish. Who can't dance. At all. Ech.

So for about six hours of each past Sunday, I spend my time flailing like a zombie while being ridiculed for my obvious lack of feminine assets (well, durgsh). And dancing skills. Individual mockery for every epic fail.

Since we're all supposed to stomp-walk-clap to the tune of "Give It Up," I'm thinking that's the best thing to do right now.

* * *

Because it's a toy and I reallyreallyreally need to be amused these days. Yeyyyy.

Mighty tree of the Yule, how we wish to topple you. Our hands will turn you over and make you stand on your tip: the halo over your angel's skull. Your gold adornments have been replaced with scarlet - the ribbons, the orbs, embellished with iron-rich liquor. Your strings don't strangle you but they lasso and they pull, and the candy-colored lights hit the scars of those celebrating around you. Those afar, they are who you feedclotheshelter. You could nourish us all but you chose them. Now we will shove as hard as we can until you are the symbol of our battle.

* * *

Hm. And Halloween isn't even over yet.

Oh please. Stop sending out invitations to your pity party. No one will arrive, not even the balloon man.

* * *

they will see us waving from such great heights come down now they'll say swing, like a chariot at the trumpet call when we're all unsaved swing when god said here's your future it's gonna rain i put on my overcoat and walked into winter - my teeth chattered rhythms right off, no never never ever ever right off turning into the light she don't think straight and there is nothing left to say if i shout, you wouldn't listen out of phase, off center, and off cell bleaching your teeth, smiling flash, talking trash under my window talking shit about a pretty sunset blanketing opinions that i'll probably regret soon you're never going to feel as full as you felt so let's go outside and we'll play william tell take your time a phantom and a fly follow the lines and wonder why there's no connection through the aging, the fear and the strife it's the smiling on the package it's the faces in the sand it's out here we don't hear anything but the clicking of the rain against the leaves held on high from up, up, up above from the glass on the floor and the strings that're breaking let’s forget who forget what forget where we’ll have bizarre celebrations let's go sailing (let's go sailing) let's get a bite to eat (let's get a bite to eat) let's go left by the lamp, right next to the bed, on a cartoon cat pad she scratched with a pen late night liquor blue will lead me to the floor can we fake it can we make believe with your telescope eyes, metal teeth based upon truth or dare decision-making shirley temple and a cellular phone no one to call no one to ring i thought i told you this world was not for you i never finish phrases i misspell an open arm's a prison cell jam another dragon down the hole cut away, cut away send transmission from the one-armed scissor the one wrong song, telling me i've been here too long (enough said) and i'm gone blue to gray, grow up and blow away

May kakaibang nangyayari sa mga taong binabasa ko.
Baka dahil umuulan? Hindi gumugulong yung bato!
Halaaaa. Tsk tsk tsk.

Step 1: Find the perfect time for your desktop PC to crash. The moment has to be just right: when you're cramming for midterm papers, thesis proposals, presentations, your average schoolwork load. Just wait until you really really really really really really need the PC. It's going to refuse to let you use it, like a stubborn child you'd want to send to go get repaired or something. Bah. Done? It won't show you your files? It keeps restarting? It's become pretty much useless? Good. Go follow the next instruction.

Step 2: After pretty much surviving, purchase a laptop. Or better yet, have other people buy you a laptop as a belated 18th birthday gift when you didn't have your debut. If they volunteered to buy it for you, wonderful. You discouraged them from taking the laptop, thinking of the expenses, but they wouldn't listen to you. They pity you, they say. Okay, they buy it. You're both happy and guilty. But it's been done. Oh well. While your new laptop's being updated in the store, walk around SM Mall of Asia first. The laptop's been paid for; all you have to do is go back for it once all the programs you need have been installed. You own the laptop now. You can relax.

Step 3: Are you relaxed? I bet you're jittery from spending someone else's money for the laptop you are now using. No? Okay. It doesn't matter. Go to Toy Kingdom with your sibling. Or you could just go to some place crowded so everyone else is unnoticed. Done? While there, distract yourself by taking care of your little sister. Turn around. Your bag has now been opened, revealing the absence of your cellphone. It's been stolen. You tell the nearest employee, you talk to the manager, you give the needed information to the security. There isn't any hope but you keep trying. Absurd, but you do it anyway. You tell your parents and they try to call your cellphone. What? You were expecting someone to answer? Nope. Can't be reached. Goodbye Hooray.

You have now completed this tried and tested course. Thank you very much, and we hope this 3-step guide aids you in your future.


* * *


Right. Fair's fair, I guess. I hope the person who stole Fromple G. Plumpett rechristened as Mademoiselle Aziraphale Crowley = my cellphone, and Famous Friend = my cellphone case, will be as happy as I was when I still had those two Friendly Inanimate F(r)iends of mine. Gah. I just hope I don't lose this laptop which I have yet to name. Hneh. It won't let me view my YM messages. Ah reality and the concept of that which is fleeting. Myeah, happens like that yes.

So, contact details please. If ever I get a resurrection or a rebirth of a cellphone, I'll need to update it with numbers of those who still wish to communicate with me. I don't have a cellphone now, but I might borrow my mom's if she lets me. Oh, and please don't respond to any text message from that person who might be using my number. Thanks.

* * *

I want a cat with blue blue blue eyes, or a dishrag dog. PAWS Halloween Event aftermath. Go figure. Haha.