Beautiful Mess

Just when I was about to figure life out,
He came to poison my dreams,
The stranger clad in romance.
Now I'm stuck.

I'm slipping between the cracks here,
tangled up in lines.

Well to tell the truth.
Till you came along,
I had a perfectly ordinary life.

______________________________________

There are no words to describe how much I abhor my absolutely crap-CCA and its moronic leaders. No wait, there are.

Hello, is it your fault that your vice-head/wife Clara, only told me I had to write the article on Saturday? I think it's pretty darn swell enough that I managed to scrape together a half-page (small-font, mind you) of decently-written work yesterday night after I came home from Rockefella practise at nine o' clock. The email, dripping with wannabe-sarcasm was totally uncalled for.

Next time please forward your article to Eeban instead of me.

I have done it for you this time, but don't do it again.

Oh yar, it would be nice to have the article in on Sunday if you told me it would be in on Sunday'

Apparently, some people find it hard to differentiate the phrases 'I'll try to get it done over the weekend' from 'I'll get it done by Sunday'.

Not to say, it was unnecessary to yell at Clare. The only dudes that yell at girls when it's not their fault are douche bags who feel that they need to exercise the male ego/chauvinist-pig complex to exude manliness.

Well, not working, Ian.

Apologies for that rant, but Clare a.k.a fellow editorial-hater, doesn't have her phone and is thus not replying my texts. Sigh.



On a lighter note, here's some shots from Lit Night. Which we totally owned, btw.




aWe won for costumes and second for exhibition! Wicked stuff. Not bad for two days work, I reckon :)

Next up, Rockefella. Yesterday's rehearsal was beyond bad, let's hope tomorrow's one works out.

As for common tests, I believe the right word here is 'screwed'. Doomed. Shish Kebab.



Oh.