I think that the migration to Livejournal was rather spontaneous and very unlike me. I'm an analyst and I prefer analyzing things and scrutinizing them to the point of insanity rather than acting on them on the moment. But whatever. I think it'd be nice to move here and there.

I've decided that I don't want to find out whether where other friends have decided to go to, in terms of which university they've selected. It might influence any decision that I've made at the point of time, and besides, I'm sure they won't want to tell anyone and won't respond even if I ask them, which I completely understand. From now on, I shall not mention the university subject unless the other party brings it up.

The cuts on my elbow somewhat sting, which is weird because previously it never does. Maybe I'm suffering my spetecimia, which is impossible because I'm not shivering or breaking out in cold sweats and delirious or suffering from boiling fevers. My theory is that soap doesn't sit well with raw flesh. But whatever.

I met AT at NEX while on the way to get yoghurt before heading home after lunch with V at school today. And can I just say it was incrediBLY awkward to see him up close and personal, because the last time I saw him was probably 8 years ago and my 12 year old self vowed to never lay eyes on him because of what happened between us then. Somehow I had a feeling that almost the whole of my primary 6 class knew the gist of what happened. I don't understand my brain. I mean, why do I fall for complete shits? Let's look at this, shall we:

1. AT - pretended to be someone else on some dumb-ass chatroom in order to find out whether I had a crush on him or not, and obviously it worked, because some girlfriends told me the real truth and that the found out from his buddies he was pretending to be a friend whom I thought I was talking to.

2. BN - gave me hell during Secondary 1 and kept kicking my school bag becuase I was the only girl sitting at the corner of the class which was populated by a lot of boys then and I was seen as the sacrificial lamb. It didn't help that he called me names, none of which I care to repeat.

3. SY - worst one to ever cross paths with. I asked him out and he told his large group of chauvanist pig friends exactly what happened and now they're on his side and he called me a western bitch. Kiss my fat ass, SY. Kiss my fat ass.

4. IL - this was. okay, but the memory still stings and lingers in a not so friendly manner, but he wasn't as mean as the first 3 assholes.

Hence, the only viable and feasible conclusion I can draw is that the boys that I fall for are shitheads, especially SY, who was, and still is a nasty SOB who thinks he's God's gift to women. I don't know why, or how I lost my head then to have thought he was a nice guy. I must have been unconsciously high on something.

Why don't nice boys like me? Or better yet, why don't boys like me, period? Most of my friends have at least one boyfriend and/or had guys who have had crushes on them. But me? Yeah I'm freaking Frankenstein to them. L says its because of my "unique Eurasian-esque" looks that make boys think they're not good enough for me. Excuse me while I barf because that is HIGHLY debatable. I'm not pretty, yeah I admit that but I've a personality. Not like those hooker-esque Chinese girls who wear short dresses that almost ride up their butts and wear heels with stick thin legs and smoke weed or pot with rebonded hair that's badly bleached and or dyed and speaks with an embarrassingly horrible sounding accent that sounds like a strangled chicken, yet they're hooking up with the good looking Caucasian boys?

Where is God in all this insanity? Is this what He means by evolution? Keeping the population going by intermixing hotness with the genes of asphyxiated poultry? Excuse me, but eww. Why don't boys like me? Yeah I'm short, and fat and not pretty, but I'm sure I can hold a fun and intelligent conversation anytime I want to. Plus, I care about serious issues, like animal abuse in China and I've taken a real interest in America's rehabilitation efforts for post-war Iraq and the whole debate about whether Bush invaded Iraq because of 9/11 or because he wanted to seize control of oil in the Middle East. I personally vote the latter.

The point IS. NO BOY likes me. I'm so pathetic. I mean I'm not actively wanting one. I'm just saying why I don't have one. This isn't something I can study for or work towards. Its a matter of attraction. I am hopeless.

Sod it. Work tomorrow. I'm going to quit. I know I keep saying this, but if I quit, what I am going to do for the next few months? I can't bum around at home like a bum and do nothing. I need to be intellectually stimulated. Oh god this is depressing.

I'm going to read and sleep when my hair dries. Am currently reading The Fall of Baghdad, by Jon Lee Anderson. Bought it in Australia but didn't finish it because the first few chapters were mildy boring, very extensive about pre-war Iraq, and its only when I get to when Iraq starts getting bombed and the records of its aftermath that starts to rejuvenate me.