profile.
Name: Alvin
Age: 21 years old
D.O.B.: 2nd December 1987
Currently studying in:
NUS FASS (CNM major)

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Becks
Cath
Hana
Gary
Lisa
Lele
Sharon

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December 2006
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Slight rant.

It's clear to me, after the events of today, that Monday possesses some form of mysterious, inexplicable and magical ability to make things go wrong. Now I know why Murphy's Law is named as it is - it starts with the letter 'M', and has six alphabets. IT ALL MAKES PERFECT SENSE NOW!

DAMN YOU MURPHY! DAMN YOU MONDAAAYYYYY!

*ahem*

It all started out, innocently enough, in the morning. You know how it is on Mondays, it's either you wake up to a gloomy day, or you wake up to a clear blue sky, fluffy white clouds, the warm bright sun, and birds chirping... and you feel like shooting the birds because you have to go to school/work, when all you wanna do is snuggle back into bed (with or without something to hug, depending) and drift back into wonderful dreams that slip out of your mind the moment you open your eyes.

This was one of those days.

I flopped out of bed (there's no better way to describe it, "climbing out of bed" is too dignified) and dragged myself to the bathroom for the morning ritual of brushing my teeth, washing my face and taking a shower (sometimes ending up with washing my teeth, showering my face and brushing my body, woot!) When I got back to my room, I saw that I had received a message from Becks. You see, sometime ago, I borrowed her debit card for an online transaction (PERFECTLY LEGAL, I ASSURE YOU. Ignore the people telling you otherwise), and the bill had just come in.

So I sent a reply, asking how she wanted the money - in thick, fat wads of cash packed neatly in suitcase, with 10 fully armed bodyguards watching over the transferral, or perhaps a cheque, signed with a flourish, or maybe a Swiss bank account already configured to her personal settings, with the money inside. (do note that I do not possess the ability to do any of these)

Nearly half a day later, still no reply.

By chance, I saw that she had come online on MSN, so I asked if she had received my reply.

Nope.

I dug my handphone out of my pocket and stared at it suspiciously.

Becks tried switching off her phone and switching it back on again, but still nothing.

I wagged my finger at my handphone. "You'd better not be messing with me, punk." I received a couple strange stares, being in the middle of a full lecture theatre and all, but that's besides the point! Handphones make calls and send messages (amidst other things)! What kind of handphone can't do that? A Handicaphone?

Meh.

It only gets worse. Later on in the day, while trying to chat on MSN, people start telling me that I'm appearing to be offline to them, and that some of their messages are bouncing back. And that didn't make a whole lot of sense, because I had been online the whole time.

Kinda like a scene out of the Twilight Zone. Or that other movie, about the hotel room that was in another dimension or something like that.

"Tell the police to come to my room, I'm stuck inside."

"The police are already there, there's nobody inside."

*X-Files music*

All in all, not a good day for communications. And to think, I'm a Communications and New Media major. Such irony! Ahh, Monday. You may have won this battle, but the war is far from over!



Okay, now on to less gloomy things.

First, Becks's research lab has the most Gihuenormous computer monitor I have ever seen. No joke. It's a monster. It's the kind of computer monitor I could chuck out a 20th storey flat, and the pavement (and maybe some unfortunate guy) would be all that got smashed. It's like... the Incredible Hulk of computer monitors.

It's so big, it could take over Pluto as a planet.

In fact, I should probably propose that.

... I want one.



And secondly, Bakerzin has the most crazy awesome desserts. I just had supper with Becks and Danny, and the warm chocolate cake was practically oozing pure win. Just imagine a chocolate cake, with the warmth of a chocolate fondue, a chewy, firm exterior, and oodles of molten chocolate within, oozing and melting into your mouth with every bite. Imagine that topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and the explosion of chocolatey goodness and the tingling sensation from the contrast of hot and cold, all at the same time.

That is the warm chocolate cake.

Thanks Becks for the recommendation! I can now grow fat and be happy. :D