Damn you Sheffield for being so hilly.

That is all.

Which clearly shows you how tiny Belait town is- everyone knows everybody. Not only they’ve guessed it perfectly, they even know which booth/stall she works in.

To the girl with the unshaved mustache: I’m not sorry, this is for your own good. Geez, you even have more hair on your upper lip than I do (well, I shave). Get a razor and scrape everything off. It’ll only take a few seconds. Really.

Things I learnt about playing paintball:

• Enough sleep is extremely vital. Three hours is not enough. Not enough at all. We were caught at Mjay’s playing Counter Strike till 3 in the morning the night before
• Paintball and Counter Strike are not the same. Don’t even bother
• Teamwork is crucial
• The sun is unmerciful
• Every little bit of padding helps. But since it’s scorching outside, it forces you to compromise. We played at the maximum safe speed. I think more than that, it’ll be illegal.
• The protective head gear can also double as a suffocation torture device
• Expect bruising. But fortunately or unfortunately, mine aren’t hardcore enough to talk about
• The one with the most gruesome bruise takes home the crown. Or at least, will be the talk of the crowd for quite some time
• Pellets are extremely unreliable
• Pellets aren’t very tasty. In fact, it tastes awful. See here.
• And lastly, it doesn’t hurt. Okay. Fine. Maybe a little. Especially when someone machine guns you at a short distance from the side. Damn you.

Gearing up for paintball. I think everyone is excited and secretly, nervous

More photos here and here.

Thank you to the Escargo Familia for inviting us to your paintball game. The entire event was definitely well thought out and well planned. We look forward for the next tournament. We will try to sleep and not nap next time. Really.

A special thanks to Mjay for lending me her volleyball jersey and Hadi for the camouflage sweater.

We had a small guys only night BBQ. It was great fun. We don’t usually allow cameras on our ‘guys only’ fun-filled activities, but tonight was an exception.

Cheers!

We shared stories and experiences around our make shift grill and the dinner table. It was one hell of a night. Chickens harmed, sausages murdered and marshmallows burned.

Make shift BBQ

Stuffed

Towards the end of the night, we were so stuffed, I can’t even differentiate laughter and puking. It was crazy. But we managed to pull ourself together and drove around KB senseless right after. It must’ve been around half past midnight.

A “Coba!” night indeed.

Thank you Izz for the swell idea. Your mom makes the best cheesy blueberry tarts and mac&cheese. It’s out of this world. And you know how brutally honest I am with my opinions. Haha.

To the girl we met earlier at Supasave: I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to stare (not really) and you weren’t supposed to turn around either. I bet you like the attention when four of us were checking you out (be honest). And the thunderous laughter right after you caught us red handed. If you happen to be reading this: email me please. Haha.

Happy 19th birthday, Tiera!

Clockwise: Izz, Fez, Pure awesomeness, Tiera, Jody and Mjay

It was definitely a night to remember. How can one not remember seven sweaty hormonal teenagers crammed into your saloon/sedan car (despite arriving in three separate cars), rocking out to your thumping bass in a deserted parking lot, at the same time trying to figure out the best way to fit everyone in a single photo while carefully balancing the camera on the dashboard? We were a crazy bunch.

Too bad my camera died half way through the night.

We weren’t drunk, but definitely high on something. There were arson, Jollibee, face licking, presents and plenty of laughter.

Yes, I wasn’t in black. I didn’t get the memo. Plus, with everyone else miraculously color co-ordinated that night, I didn’t want to give the impression that we were about to attend a funeral; it is your jolly birthday afterall.

Lastly, keep on ‘pur. pur. pur. ple’-ing. LOL

I’m trying to put on a little meat to insulate my bones. You know, if everything goes well, that extra padding might come in handy during the cold wintery nights of December.

Because I have been doing nothing but eat, sleep, TV, internet, reading and the occasional socializing for the past few months, I have decided to be somewhat productive with the ample time I have right now. Therefore, when someone walks up to me and asks how I spent my long A Level holidays, I can easily and proudly say: I got fatter. Which, to me, sounds like the ultimate holiday.

I may not have interesting stories to tell about the former workplace I used to work for or how I got in to some horrific accident like many others, at least I DID something. Something productive. Haha.

So, while I’m in my little mission on my own, which frankly, may take some time, I have devised a plan to make my gradual transition from skinny to healthy virtually unnoticeable: I will now only take pictures with people much more skinnier than I am. That way when someone looks back at the photo, I’ll look normal and well, the others will look, errrr, not so normal.

Until next entry, I’m off to put on some pounds. First, by gorging on a delicious bag of peanut M&M’s. YUM.

A few months back, I reluctantly joined a group of friends for dinner at our friendly neighborhood sushi restaurant, Excapade. As ‘uncool’ as it sounds, I have expressed my loathe of the Japanese cuisine while we were in the car. I do not really have a set answer on why exactly that I don’t do sushi. All I have is: I just don’t. Plus, I do not like the idea of putting raw, possibly alive organisms, into my mouth.

Of course, I opted for something well cooked, familiar and most importantly, definitely dead that night. I ordered chicken at a fish restaurant. I do not remember what exactly I ate but I believe it also has those fancy japanese lingo in the end.

As the night went on, they suggested that I tried a bite. A bite that could hopefully make me a sushi-loving convert. After much cajoling, I have raw fish sitting on a bed of rice in my fingers. It was orange and looked ridiculous. It was definitely raw but at least it wasn’t flapping about.

Slowly, I took a bite. It was cold. It tasted funny. It left an unpleasant taste in my tongue. It wasn’t very nice. It was pretty much as horrible as I imagined it to be. Quickly, I swallowed the remains and washed it away with a few cups of bitter green tea. Laughter ensued.

I hope to never ever chew on such a thing ever ever again. It was foul. Clearly their attempt at converting me to a sushi craving individual failed miserably.

I think I also left the restaurant with a rumbling stomach that night. I have not visited the restaurant since.

I may not be living in Japan, but in my neck of the woods everyone I know are literally sushi fiends, I am the only one who doesn’t do raw cold fish.

I am happy to be sticking to my delicious crispy fried chickens.

Shedding some light on all those fancy coffee jargon.

Happy Sunday.

They say you are what you eat. Well, last week I was a mashed potato, a natural flavor yoghurt, a milkshake, mushroom soup and chicken porridge.

Today I graduate to be a crisp M&M. I am making progress.

When I signed the consent letters last week, I thought I’d be in hell today. Remarkably, the recovery has been well and bearable. There was swelling for the first few days but I didn’t blow up like a squeaking chipmunk (as originally thought), I only went up to Kanye West minus the rapping. There were some discomfort and blood. Well, lots of blood actually. I also didn’t have a dry socket. All thirty ibuprofen tablets (painkillers) prescribed still remain untouched.

The horror stories I read on the internet were completely false. But then again, no two mouths are alike. The decision to get it done as soon as possible might’ve played a major role.

The scary stitches which connected my inner cheeks to my gums were removed today. It was a quick procedure. A few snips, some squirts and a mouth rinse then I was well on my out of the dental office. Brushing my teeth is no longer a tedious and intricate process.

My gums are still all mushy at the back. It kinda grosses me out. But I’ll give it a few more days to firm up. The crater left by my canine will continue to close in the coming months. It seems as everything is going well.

I think this entry concludes my Wisdom Teeth Extraction Adventure.

Can’t wait to devour on a crispy fried chicken for lunch this afternoon. I have a lot of eating to do today. I am a stomachache away from wrongly guessed as a lab display skeleton. Talk to you soon.

Being on anesthesia was a surreal yet unique experience. I tried to be funny by [trying] fighting the effects of the anesthesia as soon as I felt them kicking in, just to see how far I can go. And let me tell you upfront, it was completely impossible. The effects were immediate. My eyes weighed a ton shortly after and I remembered telling myself: this should be very interesting. Then I was out. Completely out.

It seemed like a couple of minutes have passed when I heard a woman calling my name. It felt like I was waking up from a short afternoon nap. Although, if you have been following me on Twitter, my naps are almost always never short. [The following series of events were hazy and I speak completely from memory. A very drugged up memory] I woke up with a huge suction hose sucking down my throat. I immediately reached out to check my face by delicately padding every inch of surface area with my fingertips. I can imagine at this moment how puzzled everyone in the room must’ve been during my own little face mission. What the fuck is this boy doing?. They actually had to hold my arms down to stop me from doing that. There was a slight struggle and also minor swearing involved, but then again, I could just be having a mini conversation in my mind. A very faint voice asked “kenapa?” (translated: why?). With a mouth full of bloody gauze, I replied “arexsd myds chejkhsd dropzsding!?” [It's actually 'are my cheeks drooping?' in mouth-full-of-bloody-gauze language]. I had to repeat myself a few times until a kind-hearted soul answered No, promptly followed by, an inappropriate soft giggle. Hahahaha. Looking back at it today, it was funny — I had surgery done on my teeth but the second I woke up, I checked my face.

To counteract the slight shivering, they doubled my blanket and blowed warm air into it. I recalled telling myself “Wow, this is quite nice”. I looked around to find myself in a completely different room. It was white and equally bright. A lady in blue scrubs was sitting right beside me. She was busy penning down things on a clipboard. I asked for the time. It was 9.36AM (shit, where did the time go?). I glanced around to see a few figures (I didn’t have my glasses on remember) in seemingly similar attire walking in and around the room. I was then presented with my extracted teeth. All three of them conveniently placed in a small urine jar. One is in four tiny fragments. I think I even asked for my dental x-ray films in my fancy mouth-full-of-bloody-gauze language. I don’t know what for, but I remembered asking for it. It must’ve been the drugs. Hahaha.

And here I present you my extracted teeth. Artistically taken with my camera to show just a glimpse of the bloody mess inside. Yes, I was thinking about you, you squeamish readers.