The half-a-block white sludge

The white sludge we came out with from lab class was, in a way, gross. Imagine holding one big chunk of diluted glue bound together by sodium borate. My hands, and that of almost everyone else, smelled like, well, glue. It was fun, though, obviously, especially when the twenty-plus people in J510 put everything together into one huge ball and played with it. It ended up looking like a big chunk of tofu when molded as a square. It is, however, obviously slimier.

Tuesdays aren't usually interesting days. There's this early wake-up, then there's this long break after lab class since we end up finishing really early. At the same time, Cybernook takes its break, so I end up with literally, nothing to do. Today, however, it was a bit interesting, only because of the little jokes I decided to pass around. So, if you're uninitiated, you might hit me in the back when I say Clarence is my, uhh, girlfriend.

Well, since my Friendster profile now has our close-up pic from two weeks ago as the primary photo, we kind of took that thing over. But, we're joking, obviously. I don't know, however, why I get so defensive so suddenly.

Also today, we changed seating arrangements once more, for English 2 has finally set the permanent seating plan. I get to sit in the middle seat in the first row, which means, although a bit unexcitingly, I get to be in front of out teacher Miss Ara. (I'm changing my policies regarding the way I call my teachers in here. I realized it sounds funny whenever I call them professor.) Even better, I don't have to change seats whenever Philosophy class begins. I'll understand even more (and I am), but I won't get to have those little chats with Caresse (you know, the "it doesn't register" statements) we used to have during the past weeks. (Here I am again. So, why again?)

I went home with Tracy today, and now I'm blogging at another shopping mall. And then I'll end up sleeping at God knows what time. Then I'll wake up grudgingly again. Same old cycle.

So, then, after endless costume conflicts, pad paper shoving in the necks (hello there, Malia) and a little something for a routine (hello there, Kim), that's my post. Yeah, another excuse.

Before I end, here's some more excess stuff, since I wondered why, or how, Missy Higgins (you remember her, that favorite artist of mine whose song I player for English 1 class?) would make it to Unang Hirit. Turns out she won five ARIA awards and did something to David Hasselhoff in the process. Well, let's say I launched her career in molecular bits. (Go figure.) She's now called the pop princess of Australia, and I went like, whoa, for a twenty-one year old. Wait - why this, now?

I'll end this post with something that just popped in my head. I wanna go home, but I just can't.

And your responses...

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