She's addicted to nicotine patches.
Surgeon General's Warning: Smoking can be hazardous to your health.
And not only that.
It stinks. Literally.
I've always been against smoking, ever since I was a kid.
Fine. Sometimes it's sexy. Maybe if you're James Dean.
But you're not.
Some people say it's a way to release tension and stress.
I shall take all the tension and stress the world throws at me. But I'm never ever gonna light up a cigarette.
So why have I been dreaming about smoking?
What bothers me more is that I seemed to enjoy it.
There can only be one bomb on an airplane.
I stayed at home the whole day yesterday.
I got CSI's third and fourth seasons on DVD.
Uh.
Oh.
I saw an advertisement on an escalator last weekend. I had to lift my head and stare at the ceiling as the escalator went down and Peta's image got smaller. I told my Dad about it. He stared too.
They're finally selling Season One of La Femme Nikita on VCD.
I wonder if Amy's selling La Femme Nikita on DVD.
There can only be one.
I just finished reading a book entitled, "The Rhythm Section." It was about a girl who turned into a prostitute, then an assassin. Terrorists killed her family, then she became a prostitute. Then some secret government agency took her in and turned her into an assassin, promising her revenge.
Something like Alias.
Something like La Femme Nikita.
*grumble, grumble*
You can't say "bomb" on an airplane.
I stayed at home the whole day yesterday.
I had breakfast, watched CSI, then skipped lunch, and slept the whole afternoon. Then I woke up, had dinner, and watched CSI again.
Then it was 10p.m.
Bedtime.
I finally had my period.
The bot-fly doesn't have a period.
the liftspotting syndrome
Liftspotting.
Liftspotting.
Liftspotting.
Liftspotting.
Try standing by a bank of elevators for four hours. Watch the people walking in and out of the cars. You'll get to know them eventually. Who's a geek, who's in advertising, who's queer, who's polite, who wore a red shirt yesterday.
Watch the numbers indicating which floors the cars are at. Watch the arrows. Will they go up or down?
Listen to each chime as each car stops on a certain floor.
Then stand before the car which doors are about to slide open. Ting! The door opens. The door closes.
Ting!
Just at that moment when you're about to fall asleep later in the night, you hear a chime. Ting! The sound becomes an enemy. Ting! It seeps into your consciousness. It becomes a mantra. Ting! Ting! It chimes in your head. Over and over. Ting! Your pillow can't block out the sound.
Ting!
Because it's inside your head.
