Sunday, March 21
11:58 pm
phew.
having found myself with an unfamiliarly large amount of free time on my hands, i decided to jump on the bandwagon and prettify a new spot on the web. the move was also partly to stop Shawn's Student from harping on about how difficult my other address is to remember (will you link to it on your site maybe then you won't have to remember), how infrequently i update, and how obscurely i write.
you'd think she'd just stop going and reading it already.
i've spent a good part of the day in various positions on my bed, in front of my laptop (and yay to the laptop for contributing even more, as impossible as it seems, to the inordinate degree of sloth and myopia i possess) and still the layout isn't finished. still don't know how i'm gonna create the graphic i have in mind for the page title and why, some two hours of div layering later, i still can't get my layers to stop overlapping. plus this idiot's taken the "frolicanddetour" address and done frikkin' nothing with it (go go there and send John Lennon Offences to him, the blog-hogging s.o.b.) so i'll have to settle for a dorky page title instead.
speaking of which, just when you think that you simply can't get any sadder than looking at catherine zeta jones gettin' her hot on in a tight red dress and thinking only of douglas v hello, well, you surprise yourself by searching your head for a great new page title and rockin' comment tags and coming up only with ideas that no one but law students will find funny (the intellectual equivalent of "a face only a mother could love"). and when you've crossed that line, you know you're on a four year course to hell.
(i am, by the way, open to suggestions as to how to improve the awful comment tags i've got going. just too bad eleanor wong's practically got a copyright on "invitation to treat".)
so i hear that it's spring in some parts of the world. here in jurong we welcomed (welcame!) spring with a good long downpour. i think it's a myth that weather manifests in forms other than "rainy" and "sunny". typhoons? a story farmers tell tiny farmkids to make 'em behave. a meteorological boogieman, if you will. and snow, as the netballers should know, is simply angel dandruff.
i think this is a good moment to state, for the record, that i have no idea what i'm talking about. i just thought i'd take a break from squinting at scads of poorly written html (i learnt by trial and error, alright?) by - and i realise this may not have been the best of moves - staring at my itty bitty screen some more.
anyhow, as far as last first-words go, this is pretty much the best i can summon up: the pacman's mostly for me, i so can get through those interminable legal theory lectures (and i can already hear Ms Chewy Bits going "well why don't you just not go?" to which i say again that by not going i open myself up to a world of guilt from my Mostly Inert Conscience and no one needs that. besides, i may miss a rare M.Hot sighting). but you're welcome to play too.
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