Arrogant is good e.g. I – period.

The title has no relation to this post whatsoever. It’s a Tuesday morning and I’m 1/4th of my way through an essay that’s due on Friday. This Friday. I also have another essay due on the same day. The latter on a paper on rocks and fossils and how it proves that Metazoans were blabla. I could barely understand even after reading the shit twice.

But here’s my blog-related update:

- No more blog browsing for me (I may not leave comments, but I stalk)

- Definitely no commenting (I’ve done none of that since mid-August, I think)

- Comments are most likely to be closed for any posts after (and including) this one. If you feel the need to praise me, feel free to use the contact page (I forgot the title of the page). I’ll try to reply to all mails so long as they’re not as ridiculous as “what’s your view on sex?”… E-mails like that make me hate people. Though I try my best not to hate online profiles.

Bleach. The anime Bleach. My recent couple craze has been Ichigo and Rukia. Actually, what prompted me to type this post out was my wanting to rant about them. ILOVE’EM. No, really. I didn’t realise Ichigo was a rather hot-ish character until recently. And along with Rukia, they make a wonderful pair that comes awefully close to KyokoxRen and/or KanamexYuuki. Ah well, the fact that I’m happy enough to spend hours reading fanfiction with that particular pairing means that I’m… Well, happy.

Not the best image of Rukia out there (the above image is a very bad reflection of the type of character she really is), but I had to find a quick image since I hate imageless posts. The couple is sinfully sexy, take my word for it. Though, that's only as long as they keep in character and not terribly OOC as bad fanfiction writers make them out to be.

Hory Sheet. It’s university. And there are guys. UnSexy guys.

I moved in yesterday. There were tears: my mum’s. My throat clogged up, but awesomely, I was fine. My dad -a man of little affection- kissed me on my head thrice before leaving. Odd.

And then my mum called me. 7 times in the space of  7 hours. The rate of calls today have decreased dramatically. In the past 24 hours, I’ve had only two calls from her.

I want my very own ugly unnaked Guy. Disturbia and FRIENDS taught me a few things. But the picture reminds me, I need to buy washing up liquid.

My flatmates are wonderful beings. I barely see them all day. One, I haven’t even met yet. But apparently she’s Korean and can barely speak english, so I don’t really care. I want to illustrate them all, but I don’t have my sister’s graphics tablet with me anymore. Even though I paid £20 towards it.
As for their names, there’s the freckledSmoker (in short, the fS. She’s ginger, smokes, more than a year older and always smiles at me. I like her); the OMGMoustache (in short, the OMGM. Indian, sikh, a year older than me, nice. I thought she had a moustache, but it was a mistake); the muslimwut? (in short, the mwut? I still have to figure out if this Kazakistani is a muslim or not. But she eats halaal meat only); the InoX-istKorean (in short, the IXK).

Unhumorous post. Because I don’t feel humorous today. Run a fork through me.

An act of heroism prevails longer in the conscience of a hero than it does in the conscience of another | History interests me far more than a human body cut open | Or perhaps not | The longest phone call I had lasted for 2 hours 2 minutes and 4 seconds | It happened yesterday and went past midnight | Mou knows the sex of my still-to-be-born sibling, I don’t | She won’t tell me and I’m too arrogant to ask my mother | Student finance may just be the cause of my pending mental instability | I smile at my reflection because she pleases me | It’s difficult to convince a semi-christian friend that the act of a girl shouting across the road to a guy is immodest and undignified | I laughed a lot | So much so that my jaws were in pain | I walked the familiar halls and stairs of my ex-school today | Memories were pasted across every inch of the beige walls | Eating maggots, fat jokes, sand pit, Tesco’s, Londis, the basement, birthdays, Kettle chips, Oreos, miniclip, paper throws, the blind lady, the head, the ISPs, the (biology) ISP room, Simmonds, windscreen wipers, dykes, The Devil and her Advocate, the Dyke and her Apprentice, homophobia, homosexuality, stupidity, flashes, the fat lady, unbuttoned buttons, copious notes, the laughs, the snorts, the emotions in motion, the dinners, Nando’s, the cackling witch, donuts, cinnamon swirls, criossants, King Lear, 5p, Chang’s song, her dances, the pole, flat faces, Chinese eyes, redhead, sizes, boobs, hands, heads, hips, noise, traffic, fights, chairs, tomato, unbrella, pasta, the Beast, the Alien, the love, the talks, the lessons, the terminologies, the thefts, turkish delight, powder, register, the cleaners, Mrs Starkey, Starbucks, McDonald’s, family, a child’s play, a boiled egg, Frau Byrne, Ridley, my many surnames, the whines, the moans, the groans, the insults, the comedy, the holes, the sneezes, the bless yous multiplied and more. Much more.

On a different note,