CALL ME CHILDISH, BUT....

I am loving this show entirely!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That’s right, I’ve been watching a cartoon of late! But not just any cartoon, a pretty awesome one!

Wolverine and the X-Men is OMG teh haxxor awesomeness. Animation is awesome, storylines are gripping, and it features characters from all corners of the X-Men universe, not just the major characters like Cyclops and Wolverine (who is frankly, over-rated) but also other characters like Dust and Nitro and so on. And Gambit appears, but is a bit of a jerk, and there’s Emma Frost and damn it, an appearance by the Hulk!

Unwritten law of the universe: any show, no matter how bad, is ultimately made awesome if one of its characters has to fight the Hulk at anytime. Don’t care if you win or lose. Just go up against the Not-So-Jolly Green Giant and your show will be Emmy-Award material in my opinion. I’d love to see McDreamy or Serena van der Hoostwhatever from Gossip Girl take him on. (Serena could probably give him a nice shirt to match his purple pants, though).

And watching that show shall inspire this entry:

TEGENCE pays tribute to the X-Men, his childhood Heroes!

THE ORIGINAL TV SHOW.

I must confess: I’ve been a fan of these Stan Lee/Jack Kirby-created mutant heroes (and villains) since I was a little kid. When I was a wee kid of about 9 or ten, there were only two main superhero shows on TV, if I recall (Power Rangers doesn’t count and they only showed Batman as part of an abysmal show called Whats Up Doc which featured hosts with bad acting and slapstick Bugs Bunny cartoons): these were Superman and X-Men (7 pm, every Monday, RTM 1! Back in the day where Astro was non-existent and I was too young to enter 18-SX movies! So see? Local programming isn’t that bad, after all!)

And the plot of EVERY damn Superman cartoon was like this:

1. Lois and Clark go on a fun adventure
2. Lois: Help! I’m being attacked by aliens/gangsters/robots/armchairs arrgh!
3. Clark: This is a job for..(tears open clothes to reveal lingerie big S on chest)
4. Superman beats up aliens/monsters/etc seven ways from Sunday
5. Lois: Oh Clark! It’s a shame you weren’t here when that manly Superman appeared to save me!
6. Me: Silly SILLY! It’s him, you silly!!! Just take off his silly glasses! (keep in mind I was 9 at the time, and didn’t know any good swear words, so my cursing was a lot milder in those days)

Basically, the plot of Superman was exactly the same as Popeye, except without the spinach and Lois was slightly prettier than Olive. So, was it any surprise I watched X-men instead?

The original X-Men cartoon, I have to admit, was AWESOME. Blew my mind entirely. Such a contrast from Superman, who was so invincible and who everyone loved: the characters from X-Men were all human, flawed in their own ways.

I was especially amazed at the idea that people hated the X-Men, even though they were essentially the heroes, merely because they were mutants, people with super powers that everyone could not understand and therefore feared. These people were doing all they could to help humans, even though they were made outcasts and feared. And that really impressed nine-year old me.

Another thing was that, heh, I was a bit of a weird outcast kid myself at nine. Was bullied quite a bit in primary school, after all, you used to be really short for your age and speak with a lisp (wait, I still do on both counts!) don’t be surprised if other kids come and harass you when all you want to do is read. Which in a way I think was why I especially empathised with the X-Men: in a sense, they were like me, considered strange and persecuted because of it.

Apparently X-Men was highly commended in its day for its mature handling of subject matter. Happened to re-watch a few episodes recently, and I myself was quite taken aback by how the show handled stuff such as death, religion, hatred and persecution, especially to a young audience. I mean, this was a show that KILLED off one of its main characters in the SECOND episode. Nine-year old me was impressed. Heck, twenty-one year old me is still impressed!

Of course, when I was young, all this fancy literature analysis stuff was not a big priority, and I just tuned in to see people in spandex fight other people in spandex, all the while accompanied by loud explosions, flashes of coloured light and so on. I was freaking hooked.

Oh, and the show’s theme song!!!! Damn!!!! It blew my freaking mind! To this day I think its one of the best theme songs ever for any TV show. Keep in mind, when I was nine, most of the music I had heard was either church hymns or nursery rhymes. Therefore, a show that had an intro with people doing awesome things, to an ELECTRIC GUITAR with KILLER RIFFS. Daaaaaaaaammmmnnnn.

(If I come across as a very easily impressed kid at nine, yes. I was.)

My favourite character, though it may sound clichéd, was Gambit.

He must clearly be such a manly man that he can go around wearing hot pink leather without anyone commenting or making bad jokes.

Of the other male characters (yes, I was the age where anything to do with girls was auto eeew territory) could not relate to Cyclops or Wolverine, they being the charismatic leader and beserker killing machine respectively. I think I could relate most to Beast, being a (mostly) peace-loving bookworm, but obviously did not want to be blue and hairy and walk around in nothing but a Speedo all day.

Gambit, on the other hand, was mysterious. He never really talked, but when he did, had such a cool accent, and could make stuff (especially playing cards) explode by touching them. For some reason, thought this was the Coolest Thing in the World and wanted to be like him in everyway. Went around for a while saying stuff like ma chere and ruining perfectly good decks by throwing cards all over the place. How my mum put up with me, I don’t know.

COMICS AND X-MEN EVOLUTION

Have to admit, never really read the comics. Don’t think I even knew where to buy them, for one thing. Shame, they looked pretty cool, although the artists seemed to be on a mission to strip Storm down to a bikini every two issues. Someone has a fetish..

Also never watched X-Men Evolution for one reason: I HATED the idea of having Nightcrawler (one of my favorite characters) as an insecure teenager. Nightcrawler is gallant and confident, damn it! Talks and acts like a swashbuckler! Finds strength in his religion! Not an emo little boy worried about how he looks! And he seemed to have a crush on Shadowcat, which is oh-so-wrong because Shadowcat is clearly meant to be with Colussus!!!!

BAMF!

Yeah, I adore Nightcrawler. One of my favorite characters: his powers are cool, and he is a really complex character. And he’s devoutly Catholic! In this day and age, when a lot of the times, members of the Catholic faith are portrayed as either close-minded bigots or keepers of forbidden knowledge (I blame you, mr Has-Been Dan Brown!) its nice to have a positive portrayal of a man of the faith. Although he is blue and resembles a demon. Complete with pointy tail. Oh well. No one’s perfect. In fact, its for the better: good lurks in every form and shape, after all.

THE MOVIES

Well. First X-Men film was pretty cool, although it didn’t wow me. Also, used to Rogue being the sassy, confident Southern belle from the TV show, was a bit taken back to see her so shy here, though was no real fault of the directors. It also had Mystique, who faithful readers may remember I have quite a fondness for, and so, enjoyed that.

And it had Ian McKellan. As Magneto, coolest X-Men villain ever!

Unwritten Law of the Universe 2: Ian McKellan playing anything is automatically awesome. It can be Magneto or Gandalf or Strawberry Shortcake or Guy with Long Broom 3. It will be awesome.

Magneto I adore for the same reason as Nightcrawler: he has awesome powers (in fact, I think he could do anything if he really tried) but is also a very complex, twisted character. In some ways, he could be seen as the good guy: he’s an idealist at heart, and really cares for the mutant race, only so much to the point he is willing to destroy everything else. Which is an irony, considering his background as a Holocaust survivor.

X-Men 2 had three of my favourite X-Men characters: Mystique, Magneto and Nightcrawler. It was a pretty awesome show, and remains one of my favourites today.

X-Men 3 I do not want to talk about. I don’t know what the director was smoking, or whether he somehow hates me so much he aims to destroy everything I love about the series. He introduced DOZENS of mutants, only to give them each like 2 minutes of screen time and we never hear from them again. Psylocke! Multiple Man! Colossus! Arch-Angel! Juggernaught! Director Brett Rattner could have done so much more with each of them, such a waste of potential!!!

And seriously. I will not go into plot points like the Magneto’s pointless raising of a bridge, or how they defeated Dark Pheonix, because that would take too long. Why kill off Xavier, Cyclops and depower Mystique and Magneto??? And Dark Pheonix! Defeated so easily and embarrassingly she should never have been brought back from the dead as it is! I weep for X-Men 3. It has caused me much heartache. Between this and Max Payne, I have little reason to live.

WOLVERINE AND THE X-MEN

And, back to the show I’m watching now.

Its pretty cool, although Surfthechannel only has up to episode 9, and I’m desperately waiting for Torrent to download the rest, especially since episode 10 apparently has an appearance from Mystique.

Also glad as one of my favourite characters is part of the main cast:

I think its pretty obvious why I’m fond of Emma Frost.

But seriously: she’s a pretty cool character as well. A bitchy psychic who can turn herself into diamond. Awesome. Plus, she’s so much more interesting than Jean Grey, Cyclops’s OTHER girlfriend, who I have to say, I find boring at times. All she seems to be doing is dying and coming back to life as Pheonic or Dark Pheonix or Polka-Dotted Pheonix or whatnot.

(Btw, Jean Grey, Emma Frost..why does Marvel not give codenames to their female psychics? Is there some kind of discrimination here? Yes, I know they are technically Marvel Girl and White Queen, but they barely use those names, so they don’t count!)


So, there you have it. My tribute to the X-Men, best superhero team ever. They clearly rock my socks (and shoes, and in the case of Emma Frost, occasionally trousers) off.

Am now waiting for X-men Origins: Wolverine to be coming out soon, Gambit is going to be in it!

TEGENCE FIXES HIS LAPTOP AND MAKES ANALOGIES

My laptop has been crashing like crazy recently. Which, along with laziness, will probably explain the lack of an update. Was very frustrating. My Internet becomes slower than a dyslexic sloth, programs don’t work, and the Blue Screen Of Death appears every ten or twenty minutes to put an end to everything fun I do. Party pooper.

Since I spend a lot of time on the Net (playing Online Mafia and writing and stalking Neil Gaiman on his blog..by the way his birthday was five days ago, happy belated birthday, Mr. G!) this was a colossal frustration and so pondered on changing my laptop. Unfortunately, I know just as much about computers as Paris Hilton knows about quantum thermodynamics. For me, RAM is a male sheep with big-ass horns, a processor is friendly Mr. Raju from down the road who works in Campbell Soup, and Firefox is the villain in the next Batman movie. (seriously though..Firefox. isn’t that a really cool supervillain name? He/she could have fire-based powers! And be part fox! Or be cunning like a fox! Or be foxy! Or have an army of foxes, all set on fire! Or work at Fox Studios! I think you get what I mean.)

And so, thought of buying a new laptop, but since I am poorer than Richie Rich after being blackmailed in the infamous Casper the Over-Friendly Ghost sex scandal, decided that perhaps a simpler thing to do would be to try and fix my laptop. Yes, I have almost zero knowledge of PCs, and the saying ‘seperti tikus membaiki labu’ popped immediately to mind, but decided it was better than anything else.

Did not exactly aim to achieve much. After all, I don’t exactly have the best history when it comes to battles with machines. My previous confrontation, the clash between the evil Duke Can Opener, in the fields of Reading (see older blog) did end in disaster after all. But I figured, its not like the problem could get any worse, and if my laptop did go wonkier than a psychopathic gorilla high on tequila, well, it could come in useful in other situations. You could close it and put it on a chair, to sit on if your seat is wet. And..well, can;’t think of other things. But you know what I mean.

So, since I had such limited knowledge, decided to just go the easy way first. Go to System Restore, find a date before the crashes started to happen frequently, and restore my computer settings to that date. Actually the closest thing to time travel I will probably ever do.

So I did all that, and waited. Did not expect it to work.

And so, was incredibly surprised when it did. Honestly, since the day I tried out that nonsense two weeks ago, my computer has not crashed a single time.

YEA!!!!
And lo, Tegence did triumph over the Adversary, the Blue Screen of Death
And restoreth he the systems of his laptop
And his is the Internet connectivity, the productivity
And the downloaded wallpapers of Scarlett Johansen, blessed be her hotness
Now and forever!

Alright, alright, blasphemous exaggeration there. But felt very proud of myself, hurrah! Did not realise fixing it would turn out to be so simple.

Got to thinking, though, after fixing the laptop.

If only real-life problems were as easy to solve as this.

Something happens in your life? Said something you regret? Committed a crime you know are sorry for? Ruined your life, or the life of a loved one? Voted for McCain?
If only it were possible to just System Restore your life: no matter how bad you screw things up, just return to a happier time before all that happened, and go on from there.

Life sadly, is more complex than that. We hardly ever get second chances, after all: mess up once, and you have to deal with whatever consequences happen, which sometimes feel way too hard to handle. God knows I’ve made my share of mistakes and mis-steps.

But then again, the past builds you up for you are now, after all. I like to believe in the idea of God’s plan, after all: that everything, no matter how bad, has a purpose and reason that will come together to create the best possible outcome for you. It does sound ridiculously optimistic (and this from me, to add!) but I believe in it.

To add, messing with the past always ends in disaster after all. Have seen The Butterfly Effect and countless other cheap science-fiction movies after all. Learn from your mistakes, move on, no point in focusing on them and wishing things in the past had worked out better.

But another strange thing that I have realized after some thinking: for the first time in quite a long time, I am actually very satisfied with my life. Honestly. These times are indeed some of the happiest I have ever been. Granted, its not perfect (5 hour weekend classes come to mind) but I have to say, this is the happiest I have been in a long, long time.

I live my own life in the way I want it to be. Though others may judge me, or I am misunderstood: I’m pretty happy with how I am now, my conscience is clear, and I’ve come quite a long way. And that is all that matters.

And that is all.

MAX PAYNE brings Maximum Pain..To my head.

Well, I intend to stick to my promise of updating this thing, and so I shall.

Decided, that with new blog, shall do away with the archaic No Names Mentioned rule that used to dictate the old blog. So yeah, names will be mentioned, unless of course you want to remain anonymous. Of course, the only reasons you would possibly want to do so are if you committed a crime or are a fugitive from some organization, in which case, shame on you and I hope you turn back to the path of light soon.

Been good since the last time I updated. Josh introduced me to this lovely little British series called The IT Crowd, which is simply quite hilarious. The only other British TV shows I watched were Skins and The Mighty Boosh, and heh since it will take some time before they get a new season, shall enjoy this for the time being.

Went jungle-trekking with the church group. Lawrence planned the activity, went to Bukit Gasing for an hour of strenous walking, bad jokes and getting in touch with nature, most of it in the form of mosquitoes and flying insects. A bit amused that the place is called Hutan Pendidikan Bukit Gasing: was half expecting friendly biawaks or scholarly owls with professor hats to pop out every now and then, giving us lectures about the history of trees and so on.

Some of us were more prepared than the others: good old Nigel had even packed insect repellent and brought along 5 bottles of water, I almost expected him to have a fold-up tent and rocket flares of various colours in his backpack. (McGyver theme plays.)

Rained halfway through the walk: should have known better than to plan outdoor activities during this rainy season. Was effectively drenched from head to toe (oddly, most recent activities seem to involve me getting soaked nowadays), made our way to Sri Pandi’s, which may or may not have been (according to urban myth) the infamous restaurant where the staff put used underwear in their curry for extra flavour. (a thought we do not like to think about) Was extra hungry, devoured a plate of banana leaf rice, and discovered that I somehow remember every detail of the many short stories and poems we had to do for English and BM back in high school.

Computer been crashing a lot of late, been hurriedly backing up everything of sentimental value in there, especially the creative works. Been working on a Nanowrimo appendix/outline and a script for a future project, and it would be a shame to lose those after all the effort put into them.

Anyway, I recently happened to catch Max Payne, with my old A-Levels friend Priya, (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!) and my thoughts on it?

Hideous. With a capital H. And what the heck, I’ll capitalise the rest of the word also, just to emphasise how horrible it was: HIDEOUS. Oh wait. I’ll put it in slightly bigger font as well!

HIDEOUS.

And wait, I shall emphasise that further with several pictures!

I’m sorry, but watching Max Payne was just..uggggh. Honestly, soaking my brain in sulphuric acid and then passing it to a group of furious rhinos to play football with would have been a less painful adaptation.

Seriously. As a die-hard fan of the original Max Payne games, I am outraged and horrified, and would be protesting in the streets with banners and placards right now if not for the fact that I am a lazy slacker and the thought of even walking strains me. It was a complete train wreck from beginning to end: turning a wonderful game, filled with non-stop action and memorable characters into a sad, sad waste of celluloid. Everyone who made this film should be gunned down by game-Max Payne, with his constipated grin and all. And his double Uzis. And in BULLET-TIME, so the agony lasts longer.

Ok, I realise that sounded harsh. Sorry. But am just astounded by how badly they messed up the game. Which is weird, because when I was playing the game, a lot of times I felt I was in a gritty, dark action thriller. The game already felt like a movie; was it so hard to translate to the big screen?

And what did they do to Max Payne?? To borrow a joke from South Park, good Frodo, they raped him! They RAPED him! The game Max Payne is seriously badass! He’s cocky, cynical and talks in a stoned mumble that is ultra cool! He shaves with a submachine gun and eats the still-beating hearts of Russian mobsters for breakfast! (Ok, not literally. But you get the idea.)

Max Payne, Game-wise, anyway, is not like us pitiful lesser mortals! For example, take a situation of toast being burnt. You and me, being sad specimens of humanity, would probably say:

“Oh gee whiz, ho no, the toast is burnt! Oh no! It’s all smoking! Better find something else to eat!”

Max Payne, in the game, would say:

“I look upon the charred remains of my toast. Ashy, incinerated. Like the broken body of a martyr, chained to the stake by an unforgiving mob. I am strangely moved. Twenty bullets to the chest yesterday should have taught me to put my faith in no-one, let alone breakfast appliances. My stomach rumbles, but I silence it. There will be no nourishment for me on this cold morning.’

Game Max had attitude! He had personality! And here he is, played by Mark Wahlberg as a whiny, generic cut-out of an action hero.

A LIST OF WHAT I DID LIKE ABOUT MAX PAYNE.

-Some references to the game: the Roscoe street station was a nice touch, as was Gognitti’s Storage, though I would have killed to see the character himself make an appearance.

-Olga Kurylenko is certainly nice to look at, although I do not get why the scriptwriters wanted to change her name to Natasha. While I agree it does have a sexy name (so calling my unfortunate daughter that) Mona’s sister is LISA, damn it! Why did you have to change the name for??

-Cameo appearance by Brea Grant, aka super-speedy Daphne in Heroes, who I am strangely attracted to. She can give me a quickie anyday.

THE LONGER, MORE EXTENSIVE LIST OF WHAT I HATED ABOUT THE FILM

-Long and draggy. Too much talking. Not enough people having their heads blown off by shotguns in slow-motion. And the whole black angel thing was uninspiring and completely unnecessary; they should not have wasted their budget on those effects, and instead spent it on getting a better script or bullet time effects.

-For an action movie, action came only like an hour into the film, and wasn’t that impressive. Compare to game, where the ending is that you shoot a bloody SKYSCRAPER onto a helicopter, a picture of which should be enclosed into a satellite and shot into outer space so that extraterrestrials can appreciate how awesome our planet is.

-Mila Kunis is NOT Mona Sax, who is a seductive, femme fatale. Her acting is not good: every time I saw her I kept on imagining her as her character from That 70s Show: kept expecting her to yell stuff like “FEEZZZZ!!!” or “Groovy!” all throught the show.

-What is with the MTV actors? Seriously, was genuinely afraid that there would suddenly be a musical number out of nowhere; something like Valkyr is Like A Bird (It Blows Your Head Away). Nelly Furtado as Christa WHO?

Are you trying to tell me you cut out awesome characters like the one-eyed sinister Alfred Woden, the cocky Russian mobster Vladimir Lem, the comic book-loving Frankie ‘The Bat’Niagara, and the laughably pathetic Vinnie Gognitti to give us this character who appears for one scene and then vanishes? And don’t talk to me about Ludacris playing Jim Bravura, who was white, balding and middle-aged in the film. That’s like getting Chow Yun-Fatt as Harry Potter or Rihanna as Sailormoon (which is an interesting thought though, I have to say.)

-Why why why did they change Jack Lupino from a creepy drug-addicted madman constantly spouting demonic ramblings (“The flesh of FALLEN ANGELS!”) into a ninja Kratos from God of War?? This movie is Norse mythology, hello, not Greek!

-And the climax of the film: Max overdoses on Valkyr and successfully blows away entire SWAT teams, believing them to be black angels. Seriously, what is the message this film is expressing?? Kids, do drugs and you become super-strong and see cool dark angels everywhere?

Then again, perhaps the message is appropriate: maybe the only way to enjoy this nightmare of a film is when addled-up and completely stoned, after all.

(DISCLAIMER: Sanctuary of the Weird 2.0 does not advocate drug use. Take alcohol instead..its more fun!)

RETURN.

Haven’t done this in a while, so it feels a little odd, coming back to the blog.

Why did I go on hiatus? Several reasons: firstly, I think the blogging was becoming too much of a routine, it was becoming for me more of an obligation than something I did for fun and to express myself. Second, a bad case of writer’s block: the words didn’t seem to come, and I tired of telling the stories of my life in the same way every week. And considering that same way was ‘in a style completely nonsensical and devoid of sense whatsoever’, I think I just needed a sabbathical, the creative genes were drying up.

Also, felt the need to withdraw myself from the world, keep a low profile for a while. Part of the weakness of a blog is that sometimes you tend to reveal too much of yourself to the world, something which I am not always fond of. I think people who know me well will realise this: while I adore my friends and try to be open as much as possible, there are parts of me I prefer to keep hidden, sides of my soul I prefer to keep guarded. Some people long for a friend who they can tell everything to and who knows them inside out; this is well and good, but for me that is the ultimate nightmare.

While I do enjoy social gatherings and stuff, deep down I am quite a private person, and I felt that previous entries in the old Sanctuary were giving people impressions about me that I was not too happy of. And so this contributed to my vanishing.

So why do I come back to it now? Maybe I miss it. The creative surge has come back, in part thanks to Nanowrimo coming up. These past few days, the urge to express myself has been overwhelming; perhaps that is why I feel the call back to the old Sanctuary.

So, an update of most that has happened over the past few months:

-Back from the UK, for good. Feel good to be home, yet I miss Reading and London. Especially since Halloween is coming up, a celebration that was celebrated in huge scale over there: I want to dress up in a stupid costume and make a fool of myself damnit. I also miss several people, the abundance of musicals, and of all things, the Oracle shopping mall.

-Doing my certificate of Legal Practice, which is headachey and no fun at all. Lecturers are a fatter, balder Indian version of Steve Carell and a droning old man in a turban whose lessons have subtle pro-euthanasia messages (eg. So BORING you want to just be shot and put out of your misery.) Classes are 5 hours on weekends, thus destroying my social and religious life. Am wishing I became a prawn farmer or a wandering hobo instead.

-On the bright side, doing freelance writing for The Star, doing book and theatre reviews, which I really enjoy. Nothing better that getting paid for doing what you love. Granted, had to sit through a truly atrocious play, and a totally dry book, but overall, experience has been really cool.

-Have learned that I apparently have a good bass voice, which surprised me as I thought the only thing my voice was good for was for scaring away wild beasts and bringing forth rain.

-Weight has ballooned incredibly since time in the UK. I can no longer describe myself as ‘skinny’, or ‘scrawny’. My so-called friends, wonderful as they are, have all taken to calling me ‘çhubby’ and ‘round-faced’, and my own dear father has taken to calling me ‘Fatboy’. Yet I continue being a lazy slacker and eating all the most wonderful foods possible.

-Have met quite a lot of new people recently, from church activities, camps, excursions and so on; and a lot of old people have left, from my juniors all going to Reading, and a good friend moving to Australia; to a town called Townsville, hopefully not to don a short dress and a hair-ribbon and go fight crime.

-Have read Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book. Not his best work, (nothing beats Sandman or American Gods) but pretty awesome. Dark and well-imagined, I think it would have been my favorite book had I first read it when I was 9 or 10.

-In the past month, attended a friend’s birthday which involved much pool-pushing and obscene photographs, was morbidly fascinated by ladyboys and red-light districts in Bangkok, enjoyed Malaccan durian cendol despite being a 500W figurative lamppost, discovered I really suck at Counterstrike, organised a potluck dinner, attended a funeral, and many other things, some of which deserved entries of their own, but am too lazy to recall everything. These few months have been the busiest of my life. Going jungle trekking after this, hope I survive.

Heh, will update about my life more the next time I blog. Till then, ciao.

WHAT IS THIS POPULAR FEELING OF BEING CHANGED FOR GOOD AFTER DEFYING GRAVITY?

Warning: if you detest musicals, or do not want to have the events of the musical Wicked spoilt, do not read further.

It has been a very interesting week. Have had a number of epiphanies, been locked in my floor against my will, FINALLY watched Machine Girl, (possibly the best damn show ever), experimented with stuff that was a contravention of morality, partook in a Thai buffet that almost killed off a quarter of the Reading Malaysian population, and attempted a foot journey that ended up in incredible disaster.

But all this will not be covered in this entry.

And why? Because Tegence is extremely happy at this point.

Why, I hear you inquisitive souls ask?

Because a few days ago he achieved his dream of watching Wicked, a West End musical he has dreamt of watching ever since his days in Malaysia.


You see, in case you haven’t realized by now, I ADORE musicals. Seriously. I’m not entirely sure if it qualifies as a genre of music, but my laptop playlist is chock-full of songs from Disney movies, Andrew Lloyd Webber hits, and Sondheim tunes. I personally think a song is nothing if it doesn’t have a mind-stoppingly infectious tune, witty rhyming lyrics and context within a story.

I used to wish my life was a musical. Seriously. Who doesn’t want their life to be filled with elaborate show-stopping numbers and dance sequences? A world where everyone sing in perfect pitch and knows the steps to dozens of dance numbers? And where your problems, no matter how huge, can be solved by a rousing chorus of an appropriate song? (Final Examinations Aria/Not Enough Change for My Pizza/ Woe My Dog is Having Pancreatic Cancer, etc)

So I always wanted to see Wicked, which I’ve only heard glowing reviews about. All my friends told me how wonderful it was, and I had not read an online review which didn’t contain the phrase ‘orgasmically cool’ or some variation of it.

I also read Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, the book by Gregory Maguire that the musical was based on. For those not in the know, the book and musical is basically the story of the Wizard of Oz, but told from the point of view of Elphaba, the green-skinned, cackling Wicked Witch of the West, detailing all the events that turned her into what she is now.

The book was…extremely interesting. Turned the land of Oz from a happy colourful place into an extremely dark and ugly place. And don’t get me wrong, I like adaptations that show the darker aspects of children’s stories. In fact, I’ve done it myself (Enid Blyton and the writers of Archie comics are going to have a heart attack when they see what I’ve envisioned with their characters), but somehow..I feel Maguire overdid the darkening a wee bit? Seriously. What with the murders and rampant sex, and a scene where one of the characters gets publicly raped by a sapient Tiger in a bar, the book’s tone was a little too disturbing for me.

Keep in mind that coming from me, this is like an bat complaining the sky is too dark to fly in. But I’m glad the book got edited to be more family-friendly for the West End production. Because, honestly, it was one of the best damn shows I have ever seen. Incredible beyond compare.

And you, my lucky readers, will get to read about how I went to see the show. LUCKY YOU!!!!!! Yes, only here can you read about how I made it to the Apollo Victoria theatre in London to catch the musical. Aren’t you exhilarated already?

So, anyway:

Had been planning to see this for ages, as it was. But somehow, stuff always got in the way. Planned to go see it last semester, but working on the play Sepadu for Malaysian Night (which I regret not blogging about) somehow got in the way. And then came exams. Followed by the saga of the stupid Eye which you can read about in the previous entry. Does the Man Upstairs not want me to watch this, or something??

By the time the eye recovered, all the original people who were supposed to go with me went away on travels. So, called a few other people..only for them all to cancel at the last minute.

Bah. Go ahead and leave me, you people who know who you are! I shall have my vengeance by singing songs from the show at you at the top of my horrifyingly out-of-tune voice!! That will show you for abandoning me!

(goes to sulk and brood)

Anyways, point was, decided that I was tired of waiting for other people, and so decided to go watch it myself, poor sad pathetic little me. Ahh well.

So I left for the musical, early one Wednesday morning to catch the matinee show. They apparently gave first row tickets at cheap prices: apparently 24 seats in the FREAKING FRONT ROW were reserved for the people who came earliest.

And so, with a determination never seen in me before (if only I was half as motivated for my exams) decided: I will get those damn tickets!!!! By hook or by crook or by Peregrin Took, I was going to watch that show.

So, spirited me decided to go all out. Packed myself a breakfast the night before, prepared clothes in advance, prepared essentials: camera, rail tickets, wallet, phone packet of tissues (because I had a dark feeling the play was going to make me emotional.) Decided to get an early night for maximum enjoyment.

Unfortunately, the recent midnight-oil-burning for exams had fundamentally messed up my body clock (am going to have no problems re-adapting to Malaysian time, let me tell you that) and so, found myself unable to sleep! I think anticipation for watching the musical I had been looking forward to for years also played a part.

So, the next day, walked to the train station in semi-groggy state. Lack of sleep does nasty things to me. The way I walked made zombies look like aristocrats in comparison. Met a few people I knew along the way, who did not notice any difference. Not sure to be relieved or insulted.

Basically, reached the station, just in time to catch the second train to London. Unfortunately, spanner thrown in the works of my plan as there was a breakdown in the line I was planning to take and so had to go through alternate way. Damn it, why is it the Circle Line NEVER seems to work??? Honestly, every time I go to London, theres always a breakdown or a delay or a reroute or something. Ridiculous!!!! Is it the designated breakdown lane or something? Is it the work of gremlins, or Mole People?? Friend told me breakdowns apparently happen due to suicides throwing themselves on train tracks. Why choose the Circle Line then?

Anyway, this entry is not to contemplate the mysteries of the British Underground, which thanks to Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere I already know is a surreal, mysterious place. Well, a surreal mysterious place that keeps on breaking down and losing power at the most inopportune moments, with its many stations and interlinking lines making its tube directories look like webs woven by technicolour spiders high on crack.

Have newfound appreciation for the Malaysian LRT trains. They only go in two directions, and break down very rarely, and my only complaint with them is that they are too commercialised. A not sure I blogged about my previous experience with a McDonald’s sponsored LRT ride, with big pictures of foldovers plastered all over the walls and the announcer making lame references to burgers and fries every upcoming station. I swear, if the Burger King and the A&W Root Bear die and are destined to go to Hell, that train would be the one to take them there.

So, anyways, made it to the theatre, did not get the front row seats after all (sadness) but eventually got very good seats as well at nice little student discount. Its good to be a student sometimes. Yes, you slave away to fact memorisation and get your soul devoured from time to time by exams, but hey, souls are overrated anyway, right? (goes out to lie and cheat and steal and take candy from infants)

While waiting for show to start, journeyed to MAS headquarters to get ticket home validated (so fast, I go home in a month) and had lunch. Went to a little café for sandwiches and hot chocolate, was amused that every customer in the restaurant seemed to be flirting with the sole waitress of the place. French bus driver was offering to take her to visit his village (“just give me two days notice!”) and stated that he was not above blackmailing the local mayor to do so. Ah, the wonders of love.

And no, did not flirt with the waitress. She was too old for me. And lack of sleep dulls my sharp and ready wit, which no one seems to understand anyway.

Went to Victoria theatre after that, where had my mind blown in a way I had never experienced before.


Wicked was AWESOME. Seriously. Incredible, the best damn musical; nay, the best damn show I have seen in my whole life. The stage design was fantastic, the actors magnificent, I could spend twenty pages describing all that went right with the show, from the incredible singing to the shiny clean floors of the theatre washroom. Rarely have I enjoyed myself this much.

Wicked is surprisingly, a lot like the other musical I’ve seen here, Hairspray, in which they both are themed around people that are usually misunderstood and ignored getting their chance to finally shine. Both involve dashing (if slightly air-headed) love interests initially linked to overly perky, shallow blondes that give the lead character trouble at the start. And while Hairspray championed the rights of the black people, Wicked, well, featured a movement started by a green woman.

But I enjoyed Wicked a lot more than the also-awesome Hairspray, don’t know why. There was just such a wonderful atmosphere to the story, an air of wonder and delight that made it hard not to smile as the show went on. L. Frank Baum did after all create a memorable world of munchkins, winged monkeys and ruby slippers, and to see another side of it, backed up with glorious music was just awesome.

And the songs..geez. Am embarrassed to say this, but they made me all teary eyed. I blame bloody Defying Gravity. Why does it have to be so touching? Seriously, everytime I hear Elphaba go: “I’m not afraid..its the Wizard who should be afraid”, I feel a lump in my throat and the urge to bawl like a little sissy schoolgirl. That song is doing damage to my masculinity!!!! Affects me in ways I just cannot understand. Seriously. If you ever want to torture me in pursuit of information, just tie me up and play that song, prefably the Idina Menzel version. I’ll be an emotional wreck in seconds.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, For Good shot an emotional torpedo right into my already ravaged heart. Beautiful stuff. More tear-inducing. Damn, in a way I’m glad I came alone..if my friends saw me, they’d never let me live it down!

Just to set the story straight: I am not one of those overly sensitive male SNAGs that burst into tears everytime a butterfly flies by or a baby laughs. I am a manly man who eats steak and doesn’t use moisturiser (at the detriment of my face) and ogles Megan Fox like the rest of you people. Its just that, like Superman has kryptonite, everyone has his weakness, and mine is the bloody musical! And if I am emotionally affected, I weep MAN TEARS! Yes, man tears! 23% higher in testosterone than regular tears! Which can be used to strip paint off furniture if distilled! And cure syphilis if combined with ginseng!

Anyway, entries that damage manly credibility notwithstanding, enjoyed show very much. Developed crush on actress that plays Nessarose, she had such a sweet voice.



Nessarose is obviously the ONE ON THE RIGHT. In the chair. My fetishes have not yet developed to the point they involve bald men in robes. (Bald women in robes, though..)

From there, ended up waiting 40 minutes outside the theatre waiting for cast members to sign autographs. In the rain. If that doesn’t make me a fan, don’t know what does. Good-looking actor playing Fiyero got mobbed and screamed at by assorted teenage girls, and videoed by their middle-aged mothers. Lucky man. Talked to other Wicked fans, many of them were repeat viewers, two girls were watching this show for the FIFTH time. Could see why though, because honestly, the show was a thousand kinds of awesome. The only thing that makes me slightly creeped out was the realization after the show that a million fan-fiction writers are probably writing Glinda-Elphaba femmeslash as I type this. And that’s disturbing.

Went home after that. Sat on train next to two gruff looking biker guys in leather. Would have been intimidated if not for the fact that they were discussing loudly which country Paddington Bear came from. (Biker 1: “If he’s REALLY from Peru, why do they call him Paddington?”) See. I’m not the only one losing masculine credibility.

Musicals are the best thing about this place. Seriously, the arts here are really flourishing, and the plays they stage always awe me. It’s a shame Malaysia (though its working hard on it) doesn’t have the same capability to launch long runs of shows like this, and all the major productions all never go there. (Where do they go? Bloody SINGAPORE.)

Next mission: to watch Les Miserables, the musical that started my love of musicals in the first place.

THIS ENTRY BROUGHT TO YOU BY ODIN-ONE EYED.

Some of you may be aware, that due to my interest in Norse mythology, I often use this nickname, OdinOne_Eyed, as an online handle, particularly when I want to leave comments anonymously (if you think it sounds weird, be thankful I didn’t choose some of the more tongue-twisting Norse names out there: I could have called myself ‘Jormungand87’ or ‘ShipOfDeadManNails’, for all I can tell.)

Apparently, though, I should have known better than to choose this nickname, because thanks to karmic justice, I became one-eyed for a brief couple of days. Sadly, this did not come with the incredible wisdom that the Norse god I’m named after gained with the loss of an eye: all I got was excruciating pain, the loss of a chance to see a musical, and the fashionability of a failed pirate.

I originally wanted to blog about a great number of other things: more movie experiences; a rather interesting discovery in my room (which will get its own entry, you can be sure of that) and a REALLY REALLY interesting night I had, but due to pressing urgency, and to enlighten the world about how it felt to be in near-darkness for the few days, all of the other posts shall be put aside. So here I am, doing my bit for charity.

(Me, putting Nick Fury to shame. Thank you to my friend Alvin for making my ‘prosthetic’ SERIOUS eye, so people can take me seriously.)

So, how did this saga start? I have no idea.

Doctor told me it was probably due to a foreign body entering the eye, which I eventually rubbed too hard to the point that I ended up ‘tearing my cornea.’ If you think that sounds painful, that’s because dear God, yes it was. My left eye felt like there were a hundred needles, made of barbed wire, lodged deeply within my pupil: opening it made me feel that someone was jabbing a scimitar inside for good measure. I may be a masochist, but damn, even I have my limits!

And bright lights..oh my sweet monkey ankles. You could have kicked me in the crotch while wearing blade-embroidered stilettos and I would have felt less pain. Seriously. Agony. Ended up tearing like mad: the last time I cried this much was at the last episode of Skins. Poor Tony. I think he secretly likes Sid, but Michelle would kill him if he tried anything funny.

(On an unrelated note, Skins is a pretty awesome British TV series. Yes, the storylines and characters make as much sense as a five-legged purple rhinoceros in a tutu and top hat. Yes, its as realistic as V.K. Lingam’s phone-call defence. Yes, the amount of profanity and sex would give my priest a heart attack. But its addictive, somehow, the people are nice to watch (I love Cassie, and Effy is just smoking!), and any show that features a theft of a coffin leading to a high-adrenaline car chase through the streets of Bristol, all set to Britney music, is good in my book.)

Anyways, I digress.

Point was, my eye was hurting to the point of scream-inducing excruciation, and my friend Joel was so nice to accompany me to the clinic. Was very nice of him, and am very grateful, because I would probably have been run over within minutes without help, due to my condition.

See, my right eye was fine, but opening it all the time put a lot of strain on it, and with the pain from the left eye being so intense, it was easier to close both. Which meant I was effectively blind. Me, if I were a Night Elf, and a million times more awesome.

Was relieved after getting to the clinic, eager for treatment. First time I had become sick in this country, and so was looking forward to receiving first-class, efficient medical treatment.

..only to find that the doctor could not see me now because I did not have an appointment. Was like WTF???

Medical service here, while free, seems extremely bureaucratic: no appointment, no treatment, try not to bleed too much while you wait, it ruins the carpet. Wanted to cry, but eye was tearing so much it wouldn’t make any difference. Lucky, a patient cancelled, and so I could see the doctor at 1.10 pm..

About half an hour to go.

Which proceeded to be the longest, most ridiculous thirty minutes of my life: what could I do, but stay in the hospital waiting room, hand clutching tortured eye, resisting urges to curse. Not like I could even read a freaking magazine.

At that point, was just left to my imagination, which is horrible due to how hyperactive it is. Seriously, I have the most morbid imagination ever: it comes in useful when thinking up stories involving intestine-ripping murderers and soul-sucking gypsies, but when it comes into conflict with my other side of my personality, my hypochondriac side, it becomes a tragicomedy of epic proportions.

Became extremely paranoid about my condition. How serious was this? Did it need surgery? Was something growing in there? How badly was it infected? Did they need to remove it? Was I in danger of becoming blind? Would I never be able to see porn beautiful sunsets again?

I blame House. Every episode, its somebody with some freakish disease or another: no one ever has the flu or a cold or too much gas; its always flesh eating bacteria or psittacosis or Jamaican monkey syphilis or some horrific ailment. Does horrors to my imagination.

Lucky, doctor was not as sarcastic as Gregory House, although I was not the most cooperative patient..she couldn’t really examine my eye very well because I found it very difficult to open it, due to mind-shattering agony.

Not much she could do about the eye, so she referred me to a specialist at the Royal Berkshire Hospital nearby. “Get thee to Eye Casualty, stack,” she did say, and I left.

While we’re at it, who the HELL put the ‘casual’ into ‘casualty’? As if life-threatening illnesses are things to be laughed off. Whose sick joke was this????

Anyway, after a LONG walk to the hospital, and finding the ward through the labyrinthine passages of the medical institution, FINALLY found the damn place, where the nice doctor treated my ailment, giving me some nice anaesthesia which numbed the pain. Ahh, that’s the stuff.

She also wrapped my eye up in a patch, which I couldn’t remove for a day. Patch was made of white cotton, sadly not black leather: no chance of being manly through my illness.

So for the past few days, have been mostly resting poor tired Mr Eye..quite dull. The worst part of your body to injure is your eye: anywhere else, you can still pass the time by reading or watching TV or something. But your eye goes, all you can do is sleep..which you can only do so much of. Spent most of recovery time in room with the lights all turned off, feeling very much like those tortured emo geniuses you see on TV. All throughout the UK, girls are going about in little skirts and tops, and here you are unable to see them. Curses. CURSE THEM ALL!

Was equally pissed because was supposed to go down to London on that day, to watch the musical Wicked, now have to postpone, sigh. Watching Elphaba and singing munchkins wouldn’t have the same effect with a single eye. It could have been worse: I’m just glad I wasn’t planning to see the London Eye. That way, if the pain in my cornea didn’t kill me, the tragic irony definitely would have.

Just glad this didn’t happen DURING my exams, thank God for His grace. How horrible that would have been.

Friends and housemates very nice and helpful all through my injury, helping me cook and such. All the same, hard to carry out conversations when you can’t look at people: the worst part is if they unexpectedly leave or change position: this usually ends up in me delivering long soliloquies to the air and discussing Neil Gaiman with the walls. Am glad no one took advantage of me this way, hahaha.

Only good part about this was that it apparently improved my sadly-lacking fashion sense: housemate found it "very sexy'. Yay fashion accessory!

The eyepatch is off now,though, as the pain is gone, and I am glad for it. No side effects: no X-ray vision or optic blasts of doom, unfortunately. Oh well, maybe next time?

Seriously though, the saying is true: you never appreciate what you have till its gone. Thank God for my sight. The world is a beautiful place, and I should be thankful that everyday I can able to take in so many wonders all around me.

Heh, I’m off to ogle sunbathers. Ciao!

STUFF I ENJOY, STUFF THAT MAKES ME SUFFER AND ETCETRA.

Stuff I enjoy: MOVIES!

Lesson of the day: Iron Man is an awesome film, but trust me, the wrong film to watch before a Company law exam.

Why?

Scene God-knows-what of the film:

Sexy Reporter: (pissed) Why did you sell these weapons to terrorists??

Tony Stark: I didn’t sell weapons to terrorists!

Sexy reporter: Well, your company did!

Tony Stark: I’m not the company!

Me (from audience): He’s right!!! Salomon v Salomon, decided by the House of Lords!! Seperation of corporate personality!

I think its safe to assume I have lost all semblance I have to a life. Especially since I can relate two other instances in the film where a company law case sprung to me upon watching. DAMN YOU exams.

Seeing quite a lot of movies lately to destress.

If you didn’t know, by the way, I am a HUGE movie buff. I used to hit the cinemas almost every week back in Malaysia (where tickets do not cost an arm and a leg), traverse the pasar malams looking for the best DVDs, and currently write film reviews for my university newspaper (best bit is free movie entry!) Will watch anything, although enduring chick flicks often drives me to near cuckoo whoop-de-hooness.

21: not a bad film, Kevin Spacey is always entertaining. Though I think a lot less people are going to want to enrol at MIT if Kate Bosworth is supposedly ‘the hottest girl there.’ No offence, great actress and all, but her face somehow puts me in mind of a duck crossed with a horse. The fact that all the characters in the film seem to be falling head-over-heels in love with her makes me worry that being incredibly good at math seriously affects your taste in the opposite sex.

Harold and Kumar 2:I swear, these are less movies than they are hour-long marijuana commercials. Neil Patrick Harris really rocked this show, as he did in the first one. Was pretty funny, especially the George W. Bush parts, but somehow lacked the more unexpected and over-the-top humour the first one did. Many jokes predictable, repeated, or weakly developed.

Sweeney Todd: Good God, what took me so long to watch this?????? Pure awesomeness, from start to finish. Great story, killer songs, incredible performances. Oddly enough, there is a pie shop on a street near Reading town called Sweeney Todd, although the owners are nowhere as charismatic, and have never burst into song to see me.

Come to think about it, the Lebanese man at the grocery nearby is fond of singing every time I visit him..I think I’m going to think second thoughts the next time I buy my mincemeat. (for those not in the know, btw, have become quite fond of making beef pasta. Time-consuming to make, but rewards are worth it).

Upcoming trailers review:

Chronicles of Narnia: Earlier readers of the previous Sanctuary will know I adore films about ‘little children discovering themselves in fantasy realms’ (sounds a bit wrong), and I am a huge fan of the Narnia books, and I have to say, I get goosebumps everytime I see this trailer. Bloody hell, griffins! And that river god appearance at the end..incredible.

Yes, I know the Narnia books are more about the Christian way than big old fantasy battles. But they just look so awesome..

Batman: The Dark Knight: I just keep getting reminded of what a waste Heath Ledger’s death was every time I see this. Poor man. He was so gifted.

Wanted: Concept is interesting.But James ‘Atonement’ McAvoy as an action hero?? What next, Hugh Grant as a horror movie villain??

Hancock: Why, of all the titles to give to your film, do you choose this one??? Honestly!!! Firstly, no superhero is going to get respect with that name. Secondly, my corrupted mind makes me think of all kinds of unwholesome behaviour every time I hear that name, a fact not helped by the fact that Charlize Theron appears in the film.

Stuff I don’t enjoy: EXAMS!

It has been a gloomy, depressing month of mostly confining myself in my room or the library with my wonderful textbook friends. Exams are no fun, particularly final year, where the combined effort of three long and arduous years comes down to how well you can write a freaking essay.

First paper was Jurisprudence. To say it was bleak and depressing would be the understatement of the millennium. This was so even though it was a seen paper with the questions prepared for us in advance. Our lecturer, huge and massive like a fire troll, but cunning as the Midgard Serpent (yay Norse mythology metaphors) absolutely REFUSED to tell us how many of the seen questions would come out (resulting in more frenzied guesses and estimates than an entire season of Deal or No Deal) and nicely set the paper so all the straightforward, popular and predicted questions were all nowhere to be found. She’s apparently known for doing this, my seniors tell me. Gah. Wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been eating her young and burning virgins at the stake as well. (Seriously, wouldn’t put it past her.)

Intellectual Property was alright, although there is nary a scrap of anything remotely intellectual in the sad property that is my mind. Looked fervently for the question of Breach of Confidence, my favourite chapter, only to find that the evil examiners had combined it with a question on Patents, aka the Big and Bulky Confusing Topic that Only the Criminally Insane Would Try and Tackle. Oh Reading examiners, why do you hate me?

Company Law. Not a bad paper, the examiners had apparently used up their sadism quota on the last few papers, so no nasty surprises, thank God.

Had Criminology today. Attempted question on feminist theories of crime. Got stuck with a mental blank halfway. Panicked momentarily. Prayed for inspiration. None came. Got desperate.
In the end, resorted to a last-minute approach: filled up my essay with information I had learnt from reading the seminal Y: The Last Man. Because its hard to be more feminist than a comic about how women deal with the deaths of every male but one on the planet.

And they said nothing good would come out of reading comics. Sheesh.

Etcetera

Spring has also hit the United Kingdom. Our days are FINALLY longer than our nights! The sun is shining, flowers blooming everywhere, and little showers from the sky that hit you every time you go out without your umbrella.

It is also FREAKING HOT!!!!!

But Teg! I hear you protest. Weren’t you whining and moaning in the previous Sanctuary about how gloomy and cold the UK is, and how you missed the sunny smoke-filled skies of Selangor???

Well..yes. But you know what they say..a man is never satisfied. Plus, after getting used to walking around in bulky jackets with the equivalent weight and fashionability of a cow, you can’t blame me if I get pissed that I now have to unlearn all my valuable adaptation skills.

To add insult to injury, to add salt to the wound, to add necrophiliacs unto the remains of a mass genocide, it seems the UK is undergoing a heatwave that will go on for awhile, yesterday was apparently the hottest day of the year.

Oh joy.

The British however, love the hot weather. Seriously. They love tanning, sunbathing; the grassy meadow near the campus library is packed with pale sporty Brits on mats and plastic sheets, reading or playing Frisbee or chatting or generally being British. Guys also walk around with their shirts off, making it feel as though I’ve wandered into a Ralph Lauren commercial from time to time.

And the girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Holy mother of macaroni, the girls!!!

Wandering around in the barest of dresses, wearing tiny little shorts and even tinier tops, good Frodo, the eye candy level is so high I’m spoilt for choice. SERIOUSLY. How on EARTH am I supposed to be studying for exams when there are these exquisite specimens of incredible hotness wandering around in clothes that would be tight on a Barbie doll?

(You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is yet another sinister plan by my Juris lecturer to destroy me..)

I’m sorry if I sound lecherous, but seriously..MAN. And I’m enjoying this IMMENSELY, unlike a friend of mine whose name I will not mention..haha, you know who you are.

Looking at this eye-candy (and trust me, I do), it makes me wonder how we survive in my conservative homeland where despite the blistering heat, we go about with our usual clothes, when here it seems that people would die if you banned them from shorts and T-shirts. To say nothing of the Malay fellas who go about in long baju kurungs and headscarves and so on. How did we survive?

I wonder if my parents will let me come back here again next spring, to take in once again the wonderful ‘sights’ of the country.

My heart is filled with newfound love for this wonderful United Kingdom. Spring REALLY brings out the best in it, hahahhaa.

The Virgin Post

Well, finally decided that a return to blogging should be marked by a new blog. And so here I am, on Blogspot.

I'll miss Xanga. Not the most user-friendly of all systems (indeed, this blog layout looks very promising), but heh I spent 4 years on that site, and I'm going to miss it a little bit. The blue background and polka dots on this layout seem strange, but it seemed to be the only one with a decent colour scheme (no offence, but are the layout designers in Blogspot colourblind joy-haters? Every other one looks so bland and off.)

I'm sorry about the lame tentative blog title. Sanctuary of the Weird 2.0. Bah. Like some programmer's fancy codename. Also feel as if its false advertising: lookie here, brand new improved blog! Second edition! Funnier jokes! Handsomer pictures! No more sad attempts at poetry! No more Minesweeper fan fiction, Lord of the Rings slash, or Harry Potter parody!!

Sorry to disappoint..of course, it is just the same old blog, same old nonsense, written by the same old me, except with possibly more British accent due to the year in Reading.

So will think of a snazzier blog title one day. What can i say, I like the name Sanctuary of the Weird. It suits me and this blog. No desire to turn it into, say, Archives of the Arcane, or TeggIe's WoNDeRfuL LifE, or anything like that soon.

But for now, not in a very creative mood: indeed my mind is forced to devote its workings to remember as many Criminology studies and Company Law statutes as it humanly can. Exams for those in less than a week, and the amount of knowledge in my head is sadly lower than a midget at a limbo contest.

(Yes, the return of the bizarre analogies! Don't say you weren't warned.)

So pray for me that my exams will be passed and I don't go mad from the stress. Will return to regular updating hopefully by the 12th, the last day of the exam, and a date of Freedom, glorious freedom.