"And thus, the path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Little did he know that whilst this path he strides on is one in which he solemnly sheperds in the name of charity and good will, it is the path itself that becomes the lie, the path that is chosen by him and him himself, his screwed up righteous self. What was the praise is now the blaspheme, the devoted now the departed, as our raconteur winds up to be the one and only thing he strived and stridden not to be: irrelevant."

Song is getting to my head, so excuse me if I go on a vulgar lyrical jingle. Lol.

Woot, apparently the amazing swine flu a.k.a. the A (H1N1) influenza has infected my high school, which is in close proximity to my residence. Classes ordered to be stopped as a student is confirmed with the virus, in fear of further infection. Home quarantine, they say, but would that prevent the spread.? Local transmissions on the go, brother to brother, son to father, father to uncle, uncle to Jack next door, there is no stopping it. Only a matter of time before 99.9% of the world is infected, I say...

whilst the rest of the population will suffer and respawn as infected, living zombies, comprising of pouncing rapists, obese bulimics who can vomit at will, and oversized gym buffs who are impossible to stop.!!!

I am definitely infected already. This is what prepping for pam camp gave me.

Ooo ale, ooo ale, ole ole ole, chewbacca chiku chiku choo choo choo ilovechihuahua.

And my holidays unofficially begins just after I've received my results. Talk about timing. But after all that's said n done, I have to admit all the time spent prepping for the workshop was well worth it. The experience was enlightening, to say the least, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself throughout the 5days, with the company of the other 22.

PAM camp is an annual architectural workshop held every year doing architectural shyts with the usual bonding-berbonding and cheer-as-loud-as-you-can-for-your-group mumbo jumbo which we do during camps, minus the campfire. Sounds awesome on paper, which was to why I was the eagernessss; seniors telling grandpa stories of how they had a life-changing experience (to say the most) during last year's workshop in Penang. So we got the shah alam this year, which pretty much sums up everything, forlornly.

I'm usually the first to complain bout these kinda shyts; I may be pampered but I'm certainly not spoiled, but I certainly didn't feel welcomed as a guest there. I've been going on posts to mention how important presentations n impressions are, and seems as tho I am left to make a fuss again. Yes, I commend them being friendly and ever ready to be approached, but it's the little things that makes the bigger statement. Would you feel welcomed if you are invited to a foreign place where they prepare a simple mattress (minus the sheets n pillow) for your slumber fiesta, a shower with a pressure too measly to wash a fly, food which would be turned down even when you're famished. I could go on n on, but I simply find it disrespectful, and that being hosts, one might go the extra mile to ensure that your guests are being treated with a certain regard to being taken care of. Mozzy bites as souvenirs, thankyouverymuch.

Being bred n educated in a government school, I certainly didn't expect to feel estranged there. No doubt the majority of the people are from public/government institutions. But one can't help to feel that sense of inferiorness and intimidation towards those from private establishments, yours truly. Again, it's the little things; chants along the lines of busuk and timon (amongst others) being thrown at during occasions along the itinerary such as a formal speech by the president himself speaking of worthy shyts like zumthors and murcutts, rather suggestive whistles and noises during female-oriented performances. Rather uncivilized, doncha think, considering again, us being guests at a foreign place.

With all that going on (including performance prep), my mood memang bo-song la during the first few days. But I soon n gradually took it easy a little. Heck, this was supposed to be my penang, I wanted to hang loose n just have fun. And fun, I had. Cos at the end of the day, once you get to know these people, they're not so different from us, individually. They are archeeteks in the makings, we go thru the same shyts, we sleep (or rather don't sleep at all) in studios, so it was great in terms of learning n comparing how other institutions learn their bullshyt. Mind you, was I flabbergasted at their workmanship, slicing thru bamboos as if they were paper. I do, on the other hand, take pride in the fact where we excel in our verbal, but certainly hope that the impression we left towards them was more than just the exceptional use of our tongue.

Most importantly tho, and probably the only thing that mattered to me during the camp was that the performance was a success. And mygawd, I can never be more thankful that it did. I can never be more fortunate in having the pleasure of working with probably the most willing and giving mates sabd has to offer. Intimidated I was, by the first night of repertoires. It may not show, but I was shytting rocks and peeing in my ridiculously sweaty pants in anticipation for our turn the very next night. I humbly admit and apologize that I may have been guilty of delaying certain matters which if confirmed earlier, would have made our night very very much easier. But in my defence, I am glad that all the decisions that I personally and we as a group made turned out to be for the very best, and that everything (but the pavilion roof) fell into its place.

So I applaud and respect each n everyone who lend a hand and more in making the performance the hit it was, I bow in grattitude for those who cheered louder than I ever had heard them talk. We may be no. 3 but all I perceive is a well deserved no. 1. We are Taylor's.

Oops, she did it again.

The Zaha continues her venture in footwear with this collaboration with Lacoste. Shun, if this does not leave you screeching "fuglyyyyy...". I like the tactility of the grids, but loathe the curves.

Who am I to judge anyhow. Any of her work at least. Wish me well for the coming week btw. I shall be away residing on the unfamiliar grounds of UiTM, to compare and constructively criticise the rather critical living conditions conceived by the superior. And may there please be tissue paper. No, seriously.

"You very lame wan loH"

"Babi youu"

"Bihsingerrr..."

Here comes another week of enduring and imitating..