Lil B here. It's not such a sunny day down in my lethal legal sphere where daggers are hidden, looks are deceiving, words are bent to the untruth, and expressions can hardly be deciphered. You think your life is a funfair circus? Wait till you shake a hand with invisible needles, brittle piecemeal alliances, and unrepentant bitchings which threaten to ruin the one's reputation.

Friday, January 23, 2009

The Reason Why

"Hello, missus. How are you today?"
"I'm good, thank you."
"Today is all about your daughter. Her grades are good."
*A polite smile was offered.*
"But there is one problem."
"Turn around. And look at her."
"She is the only girl in this class who just can't stop talking. And for a 7-year-old; she can talk a lot indeed."
"And as you can see for yourself, the class is quiet except for her."

Yes. This is the story of my life. That was what my Standard 1 Primary School teacher complained to my mom.

To my amazement, this is what my mom replied.

"Oh, because, you see, at home, she has no one to talk to. She's most of the time alone. This is why she talks a lot now. She's unleashing all the words built-up inside her."

Ok, thanks on one hand for trying to back me up, mom; but no thanks for the humiliation.

My mom just had to repeat this in my face again yesterday.

Because I couldn't stop talking in the car.

Question is, do I really talk that much??

I can't help it. My sister complains that I am crappy.

Anyway, yesterday was kinda awesome. Altered Frequency was gigging!!! Yay!!

Today, however, well, since it's the last weekday before the "reading week"; I pondered if I should actually wear something red.

And I thought; No, I would do the contrary.

So I'm in black.

But to my amazement, my sister wore..... RED.

LIKE A LANTERN. She reminds me of a lantern.

I can't wear hook earrings. =( Because that bloody lady didn't shoot straight. So the hook earrings look like rings which are ready for a lion to jump through and straight into the curtain of my hair.

p/s: My driving was awesome yesterday. But I was too fast. According to dad, faster than my sis. And my dad calls my sis the female version of David Coulthard coming out from a pit-stop.

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