HEHEHEHEHEHE!

HAHAHAHA!

Ahem... For those of you who were frightened by the insane sound of laughter, I apologise. For those of you who were only mildly surprises/leaning towards irritation, well... Sorry again. That wasn't me laughing. Or rather, not the usual me. Now listen closely. Hear that mad laugh again? See! That wasn't me! I'm innocent.

That was this boring, uptight, librarian-types person in me. I call her Ms. Perfect. Not that she's perfect or anything. She just likes perfection. She likes to see everything in perfect order. And for this reason, she absolutely detests me! Why, you ask? Well, picture this scene. She's humming away to herself, thinking about life and how things are so--well--perfect. Then, I walk into my room and she starts screaming! She says, look at that mess! Pick up those clothes! Arrange those books! Cover the computer! Put away those cd's! Put all those loose scarps of paper in the dustbin. Speaking of which, eeks! Empty your dustbin for pete's--or anyone else's--sake! Now this is all pretty uncomfortable for me, especially since, if you remember, she's saying this a few hundred decibels higher than normal speech. Shrieking, basically. And in my head, to boot! Actually, I don't get what all the screaming is about. She sees the same mess everyday. It's not like it's surprising or anything!

Anyway, me, I don't bother with her rants and raves. I lie down, pick up a book, blast some music (which also drowns out her voice). It's not easy living with her. She has a similar fit every time she sees my bag, which has some very interesting things in it. Well, not so interesting, come to think of it. What I mean is that, my bag usually contains, besides books, pens, and other college-related paraphrenelia, some very interesting answer papers, in terms of irrelevant-crapping creativity. However, these remarkable pieces of illiterature are soon beaten to pulp and lie at the bottom of my bag, doomed to eternal indecipherability. Well, whatever it is, they basically give this woman--Ms Perfect--the creeps.

And let me not even get started on how she reacts when she sees my stalwart charger, best friend and general means of transportation, my bike. (Well, to be precise, it's a scooter but then--shoo! Sorry, that was Ms Perfect taking over for a moment. :D ) Well, where was I? Oh yes, my BIKE, covered in dust, water stains and blessings from my dear avian friends who surround my dwelling place. Well, even I admit it's not a pretty sight and I'm too darned lazy to wash it!

All right, I see now that in my usual scatter-brained way, I have meandered and wandered far from my original sentence. Which was--reading back and counting the number of ha's--HAHAHAHA!

Yes, that was Ms Perfect, for once sounding merry... well, more like insane actually. But before I digress even furthur, I'll tell you why. She's happy. And why? Because she just woke up and saw my blog (a little frown and a "hmph" of irritation from her at the way I began the sentence--the whole because because is a conjunction bit, but who cares?) Well anyway, she saw how I'd beautifully organised my links and all that. I mean, separated my general favourites from the more literary kinda stuff. And, gasp! Arranged the links in alphabetical order instead of the usual haphazard first-come last-appearance order. Yes, she's happy today.

OH! Heaven save me! Now she's getting vague notions about getting me to clean my room, clear my bag, wash my bike and organise my computer! What have I done?!

NOTE: No, I do not suffer from Multiple Personality Disorder. No, I am not ashamed of being a slob--too lazy for that. And no! I did not write the post dots and dashes--it was her, I tell you, her!