Fun-filled Jan! For a quick post I've combed through months-old albums and picked out that which struck my fancy. The shots documenting my art shall appear in the following post, as some have yet to be transferred from camera.
Where old and new meet
My most beautiful keychain, from Auckland
It broke after I dropped my carkeys for the third time. ='(
Get your fix ;)
Oral Fixation candy in Damned Delicious Cinnamon
Of course, aside from the flavour, I fell for its packaging.
Sucker for boxes and paper products.
For the past year and a half, my bed has been used strictly for storage purposes.
*Ahem, didn't I just tell you, -paper products- ?* XP
I've been collecting boxes since primary schooldays, but stopped a few years back when I realised I wouldn't have space to keep them all. =(
Paper remains an active passion, though. Still perusing craftstore shelves, ending in debate as to which to take and which to leave.
You're gorgeous.
I don't need you.
But there's something about your colour, something I've never seen before.
What if I don't make use of you, wouldn't that be a waste?
What if I never see you again; a bigger waste?
As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, shopping is not for the mentally challenged.
Next up is a bunch of photos from nearing the end of CAL.
In college, Literature has always been where I felt weakest. The medieval-English text we had in A2 wasn't helping; spelling correctly in modern English would usually mean your textual knowledge was deplorable, 'cause the English had a completely different set of spelling back then. On the one hand, spelling like Chaucer made you feel less like an airheaded moron; on the other, spelling as you usually would made you feel sure of your sanity, that you hadn't yet succumbed to the Lit Invasion.
At least, that was the fear our seniors ingrained in us within the first week of classes: "Lit Will Take Over Your Life!!"
Well, I held on 'til the very end.
=P
A few weeks before the Lit paper, I decided I was tired of being unsure of Chaucer's spelling, and went all out to make friends with it.
(Photo evidence that desperate times call for desperate measures.)
Placed his work so I could see them
While I looked up to drink water...
While I washed the dishes...
While I brushed my teeth...
The bunch of 'em, over 40 quotes in total stuck all over the house.
Crazy is as crazy does. ;)
Pretty cell sketches from secondary Science,
dug them up as I was clearing out my old academic stuff.
Selling my CAL books off was rather gratifying.
I'd driven straight to Subang from Genting, got stunned by the flock of students camping about their cartons of books. None of the faces were familiar. Wanted to chicken out but I went chin up instead to do things I've never done before.
The sun blazed down with a vengeance and the whole lot seemed about wilting with the exception of one or two crazies who charged down the walkway roaring the most ridiculous rates in attempt to end their suffering. I expect they were among the ones who'd been there since 7 in the morning.
During the three hours I was one of them, I
Shouted like a potato vendor in a strawberry field. I was the only one selling CAL at that part of the walkway that day; everyone else was from SAM.
Chased a client across the street. One of the SAMs referred him to me, bless her. And chased after him again when he forgot to take half of what he'd paid for.
Did all that without lunch.
Now, as far as I know,
Nicole doesn't shout, she doesn't chase strangers across the road, and she definitely isn't one to miss a square meal.
But I did that day, and I'm glad about it. =D
A file for every occasion. =)
Dutifully sorted every piece of paper into one of three piles:
Fully used
Relatively blank
and
Ican'tremember,Ijusthaveathingforcategorisation.
Massive clearout.
Also the day I reclaimed my bed. X)
Our big Lit notes, three-quarters of which I didn't actually read. =X
It was plain slogging away!
So long, Bronte.
Jane Eyre fell apart and I had to send her for a second binding.
Off to work now. =)
Where we sing songs, blow bubbles, and do happy things.
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