Summer Holidays!

Ah, three months of nothingness is in front of me, and I'm not quite sure how we'll cope. 

We've submitted our portfolios, gotten them back, and now we're just waiting on the results, which should be up by next week. Then we'll find out if any of us have to work a little more and resubmit, or maybe resit the entire year (fingers crossed I'm clear on all counts). 

We went to watch Derren Brown a few days ago, on Tuesday. The show was in Edinburgh, so four of us took the train and met up with another friend over there, and headed to the show after a very late (I'm talking 17:00-late) lunch. It was at the Edinburgh Playhouse, which is this grand ole theatre that was really lovely. 

Have you ever watched Derren Brown? Because you should. You should be able to find him on Youtube. His stuff online is amazing, but seeing him do it, live, is simply mind-boggling. No idea how he does it. I won't reveal exactly what he did (he actually asked the audience not to, since it would spoil it for the rest of the world should they go see him, and makes sense once you watch the show), but just know that I was blown away.

I've always been attracted to magic, and people who have mastered the sleight of hand. It just signals quickness, and intelligence, and witticism, and I go a bit weak at the knees. And Derren Brown - hooo boy. I was shrieking and clapping as soon as he walked onstage, and he hadn't really done anything yet but bow. 

I'm heading back home on the 23rd of this month. Looking forward to it, but kind of not at the same time. I've spent a whole year with these people, and to leave them for three months is a bit odd. And I'll miss them all for that time. I've never really been a person who texts or chats on Facebook very much. I'm good for talking (Skype, or phoning me up), but chatting online irritates me for some reason. I tend to appear offline for the majority of the time, unless I need to talk to someone specifically about something. 

Lately, I've been feeling a bit...restless in my personal relationships with people. I'm not entirely sure what's causing this, but I'm feeling like I'm pulling away from people without quite meaning to. I spend the same amount of time with them that I normally do, but I seem to feel this distance opening up at the same time. I feel kind of...disconnected. Like things are happening around me, and I'm just standing there and witnessing it all, not really a part of it. I want to break out of whatever it is, but having been unable to truly identify the problem, I can't exactly find the solution.

Hopefully this will all just sort itself out.

Stephen and I signed our lease the other day. We're officially moving in together, and I'm completely excited to be living with him. He's a lovely person, a snappy dresser, and an amazing cook, and we get on really well. We've always clicked. Early on in the course, we would work together until four in the morning, laughing and talking and working. I adore him, and I think the next year will be so much better with him being around. 

And to be honest, quite a few of us will be close by. Maybe a 5 minute walk away, 10 minutes if you're walking slowly (which I do, so let's just say everyone's a 10-minute walk away). Gavin will be, and a few more of my close friends. Some of them are ages away, I'll admit, but I'll just be seeing them in studio anyway. I'm so glad Stephen and I are in the same flat.

We're already planning our flat-warming, so that should be good. I'm quite looking forward to it.

But anyway. That's me for now.

Ciao.

Good Days

Good things have been happening.


In all, three people replied to the messages that I sent out last week. The fourth, I'm pretty sure, doesn't check her facebook that much. But I never had any arguments/issues with her anyway, when we parted almost seven years ago. She's just an old friend that I'd lost touch with, and I'm sure that she'll contact me someday. 


The fifth, I think, may be a case where we won't reconcile. But that's her call, and I'm actually okay with it. Like I said in my last post, I'm glad that I made the effort. I'm a bit sorry about not finding common ground with her after all, but it's not the end of the world. 


Wise words to keep in mind: You can't please everyone.


I'm feeling happier these days.


And I got my unconditional offer from Dundee! I had been worried about it, honestly, but I thought that I should just give it time instead of overreacting. I don't think I'm becoming mellow, exactly. More like I'm calming down. So I waited, and finally got it yesterday. Well, yesterday being Friday. It's past 1:00 a.m Sunday morning right now.


Bruno's at the vet's. Nothing serious, but we thought we'd get him checked up, and the vet wanted to keep him overnight. She picked him up in the evening, and we'll be getting him back in the morning. It's so weird, how used to his presence we are. Mum poked her head in, barely two hours after the vet's driver had come and taken him, asking if we'd seen the dog, and that he's not in his bed. When I reminded her, she kind of got this sad look on her face and went, "Oh."


And he's turning 6 on the 21st! My big baby has grown up so much. Well, physically, anyway. He's still a puppy in mind, with the way he still lunges for his squeaky toys. It's completely adorable. Several times a week I threaten to eat him because he's acting too cute (sarcasm, but he doesn't know that), and he should act more German-Shepherd-y. Not that he listens. He kind of just runs off with the toy, and then turns back to make sure that I'm chasing.


Which I usually am. 


I recently discovered The Hunger Games (don't worry. If you haven't read it, there won't be spoilers in this post). Recently meaning I discovered the books at the beginning of March, and became an avid fan immediately. I wish I'd known about the books sooner, if only because it's that good, but in a way I'm a bit relieved that I discovered it mere weeks before the movie's release...thousands of other fans had been waiting for so much longer. Me, who entered the scene so late in the game, still found the wait interminable, so I can hardly imagine what the older fans had to go through.


I'll recommend the books and movie(s) to anyone, though. Honestly, I was genuinely so very pleased with how the movie had been done. It covered all the main points, and did it so brilliantly. In the books, we've got the benefit of the protagonist narrating everything, which isn't there in the movie. Regardless, the directors/screenwriters have done an excellent job of conveying everything they needed to without words. Again, I cannot stress enough how very impressed I was.


One of the people that I subscribe to on Youtube recommended another book for Hunger Games fans. I took his word for it and went out and bought the entire series, called The Uglies. I've just finished the first book, and I'm quite happy with it. The book follows a girl called Tally, a 15-year-old who will soon be turning 16. And on the day you turn 16, you get an operation (government-sanctioned, completely free) that turns you from an "ugly" into a "pretty". Only things don't exactly go the way they're supposed to, and...well. Read the book. It's good, so far. A bit slow at first (but then, so was THG), but it really starts picking up as you start reading, and you kind of crash to a stop at the edge of a cliff when you get to the end.

THIS is why I buy series all at once. Because I hate not being able to pick up the next book immediately.


Ja ne.

Laying Ghosts To Rest

A couple of days ago, it occurred to me that there were people that I weren't on the best of terms with, but that I still had the temerity to call my friends. Some I hadn't spoken to in years, some, months, and all for different reasons.

I also realized that I would like to be a proper friend. I do remember having arguments with a few, but they were so long ago now that it seems silly to hold a grudge. And I don't even want to have grudges against anyone, truthfully. I wanted to just let go of any animosity, move on, and be happy with my life.

So in my head, I made a list of five people that I should contact and make amends with. The idea to write to them and offer my apologies for anything that went wrong came to me in the middle of the night, so I felt quite blasé about it all. It didn't seem like a big deal to just suck it up and step forward first.

The following morning, though, when I was actually faced with having to write out the words, it didn't seem like that great an idea. I thought, what if I'm just obsessing over these things and they don't even care? Or, why should I have to apologize for things that were both our faults? Or even, in one case, why should I have to be the person to take the first step in this?

They were all excuses, though. I wanted to do this because I wanted to be a better person, and over-analyzing every little thing wasn't likely to help. 

So I did it. I sent out my e-mails/messages to all five of the people, explaining what I thought had gone wrong and saying that I was sorry if there was a sorry to be said.

Two of them have gotten back to me, of the five. And even if the other three never reply, I'm still glad that I made the attempt, and can think of myself as a better person for it.

Most people would choose to forget about it and move on and if you do, that's up to you. I'd encourage facing up to it, though. Honestly, I cannot tell you how very light I feel. 

Getting into contact with five people I thought I should re-establish friendships with was actually one of my resolutions for this year, and it's only March! It'll feel good to tick it off the list. I've printed out the list and put it up on my wall, so hopefully everything'll be done.

Happy End of March, everyone.

People Change

Fear not, there is another post waiting to be published, but that I refuse to put up until my cousin sends me the pictures she's supposed to. Of course, you probably don't actually fear for anything regarding these blog posts. What is this, if not the ramblings of one of your friends that you're going through to pass the time? Why should you care?

I'm being morose. It's past midnight, ignore me. But don't ignore my words. (<--LOL.)

As our lives change, we move into a new group of friends, a new way of thinking, new system of living. We move forward. Who says it's a bad thing to move forward? It's worse if you're being held back.

Take, for instance, a newly married couple (this is just observation, you are by no means compelled to follow this way of life.) After the honeymoon's over and they settle down, they're still not going to settle down. They're going to go party with all their other couple-friends, their work friends. They're going to learn to manoeuvre themselves around each other, maybe tentatively at first and gradually more boldly. But then she gets pregnant. Things have to change. Less partying, more staying at home and working long nights to save up for when the baby's here. A new set of friends, these ones with kids, and if you're lucky, some of them will be friends moved forward from your couple-friends.

Doesn't mean you're leaving your old life behind. It just means you're moving forward - seems like the same thing, but it's not. You'll still keep in touch with those old friends, see them from time to time, just not as often. You've moved on.

It's not a bad thing.

I miss everyone, but I'm not going to hound them to spend time with me. They've moved on to new people - I've moved on to new people. But we still keep in touch, still check in to see how they're getting on. It's what all those years together were for. We'll always love each other, even if we don't show it as much anymore.

Felt like that needed to be aired out. Feel free to disagree and let me know what you think (I just realized there's a comment section on this. =P I'd love to hear from you people.)

Don't be a stranger.

Ja ne. 

Of Cricket Stands and Funny Things

So we went to a cricket match yesterday. Sri Lanka vs. Pakistan.


We had VIP parking or something, and dad had gotten irritated with Mum's direction-giving at one point and made her hang the ticket thing on the rear-view mirror. This was an excellent decision, because when we got stuck in the massive line leading up to the stadium, this official-looking fellow saw the VIP sign hanging from our mirror and ran up and moved aside a couple of cones. This allowed us to go through a lane that no one else was using, and he closed the lane off as soon as our car was through. I glanced back in time to see the pissed-off faces of the other drivers, while my dad kind of laughed maniacally.


Since we had sprung for the Premier seats (we HAD, apparently, gotten Platinum seats initially, but downgraded to Premier because most of our friends were there), we got a buggy ride from the car park to the stadium. We recognized an uncle as we were driving up in the buggy, so we waved. He was at a bit of a distance, but recognized us right back. He'd been arguing with some security officer at the time, but when he saw us, he stopped and screamed a greeting at us, much to the guard's consternation. Like, seriously, he SHRIEKED his hello. It was freaking hilarious. 


Even though there wasn't anyone my age (Aehshaan doesn't count, he's my brother), it was still quite fun. The adults were rowdy and SO, SO VERY VERY FUNNY. They screamed abuse at the ref when things didn't go the way they wanted, and cheered like madmen for when it did. For instance, one of my uncles started screaming at the pitch, "HE'S CHUCKING! UMPIRE, AFRIDI'S CHUCKING THE BALL! HE'S CHUCKING!" And continued in this vein for the rest of the match. Even the Pakistanis were laughing. It was classic. I had to shush him a bit when he yelled "GO HOME YOU PAKKAS!" though. Seemed a bit offensive. =P


Then they started passing around their "tea" in a silver flask. They got more pissed, more rowdy with each sip, but nothing over the top. Just genial yelling at the umpire, at most. So yeah, it was fun. I took a picture for the Worldwide Moment thing, which is when people all over the world, at 11:11 a.m on November 11th, 2011 all take a picture. Since the whole world wouldn't be taking it at the same time due to the time difference, the world follows New York time. The picture:

We headed back to Uncle Nigel's after that, for dinner. There's a funny story there, too.


Uncle Nigel: Do you want butter with that?
Yomal: No, it's alright.
U.N: No, but do you want butter?
Y: No, it's fine.
U.N: Okay, but do you want butter with that?
Y: No, seriously, it's okay.
U.N: No, but we have butter.


Doesn't sound as funny on screen, maybe, but it was at the time for the rest of us watching that exchange.


Ja ne.

Better to have loved and lost, than have never loved at all.

31st of January 2011, Shadow, my first ever dog, and thus the one I've loved longest, passed away.
16th of February 2011, Prince, my beloved GSD-Belgium-Shepherd mix puppy passed away.
26th of September 2011, both my grandfather and my favourite grand uncle passed away.


Basically, 2011 is a year I'll want to forget, and never will.

It's the year I graduated. It's the year I said goodbye to an era of my life that will always remain a part of me, and goodbye to so many loved ones, both temporarily and forever. Some, I didn't even get to say goodbye.


I'm the sort of person that cries loud, but short. My grief happens in little bursts, but these could happen at literally any time. I cried for my grandfather on my Dad's side, who died years ago, just last month out of the blue. When I say I'm loud, I mean the sort of keening sobs you only see in movies. But I'm quick to calm down (these days, anyway. I think I'm getting used to losing people - I wasn't so easy to console a few months back. Mentioning my puppies would set me off.)


My brother is the same as me, although his cries are maybe not so high-pitched. He huddles in corners, his eyes covered, trying very hard to get a grip on himself. He hates people seeing him that way - what man would? 


One interesting thing about me - I can stay silent and not grieve for a very long time. Bottle it all up. However, if anyone asks how I'm holding up, or if I'm doing okay, or makes any sort of reference to the incident and how it relates to me, I will break down. And when I break down, I break. It's a bit embarrassing in retrospect, but I couldn't give a damn at the time. And that's perfectly alright.


When I found out about my grandfather's death (he's on my mother's side), I'd been in my room listening to music. I heard my father shouting for me, so I hurried into the master bedroom - his tone was a bit panicky. When I entered, I saw my mother standing on her side of the bed (she'd probably been trying to walk to her cupboard or the dresser), the phone clutched tightly in one hand, the other folded at the elbow over her eyes. She was crying out so loudly, with so much grief, so much anguish, I couldn't help but freeze in horror. Her head was thrown back, baring her throat to any force that wished to take her. And my father quickly said, "Kake just died." Kake (pronounced Kah-Kay) had testicular cancer, diabetes, no right foot, and other problems to add to that. 


I ran to my mother, hugging her tightly, cradling her head, trying to make her stop the sobs. It was heartbreaking. She hadn't thought it would happen. Kake was taken ill with similar symptoms to those he had today a few years ago - we all flew in, expecting the worst, but it turned out he was just dehydrated. So when she got the call in the afternoon saying he'd been rushed to the hospital, she'd assumed it was another false alarm. My Uncle Joy had just died that morning too (favourite grand uncle, related to us by marriage to my grandmother's oldest sister), at the ripe old age of 92. She didn't think there'd be another death in the family.


Who would?


Mum's at the airport now. She and her older sister, Yolany's mum. I wanted to go - she didn't let me. She said I had to stay and take care of my father and brother. Aehshaan can't afford to miss anymore school (he missed the first 2 weeks), and my dad needed to stay and work. I needed to stay behind and look after them, and Bruno. 


Writing actually helps a lot. Writing how I feel, and what happened. Puts things in perspective, reading it all through again. Reminds me of the rawness of the emotions of the time. 


It's wonderful, awe-inspiring how people come together in a crisis. I'd called Adnan almost immediately, sobbed the news over the phone, so that was me taken care of. Aehshaan and I both called our cousins to make sure they were alright - Yolany was taking it better than Yoan, apparently. Aunty Michelle and Aunt Fathi came right over, immediately. Much hugging and taking care of Mum took place, while the rest of us ran about the house making sure everything was packed and that the tickets were taken care of. At the airport, Uncle Rajesh, Aunty Rochelle, Gillian and Joann were all there to help Mum and Yolany's mum through everything. They checked them in, handled the luggage, made sure everything went smooth.


I am so, so grateful for the people in my life. These people that come at a moment's notice, drop everything when their friends need them. They're so rare. Sure, there are disagreements along the way - but all families fight. And we're all family, really. Our friends are the family we chose. The family we chose to love.


Thank you, to all those people that came. Thank you, to all those people who keep us in their prayers. Thank you, to all those people who have ever, no matter how briefly, loved us.


Peace.

MIA

This visa thing is frustrating. I know this is like the hundredth post I have up here regarding that, but seriously. I've already missed a week of my course. Tomorrow will start the next week I'm going to be absent for. I'm just so worried about how I'm going to catch up, even though I know the professors will help and all.


This girl I've met via facebook that's on the architecture course, Emily, added me to a group dedicated to the first year architects. I had a look at some of the discussions - they're already talking about presentations! As in, they've done them. And lord, I have monster stage fright. I've been onstage before - school plays, master of ceremonies for a couple of occasions, and so on. My knees literally shake; I always make sure to wear a dress or skirt of something, to cover it up. Looking at my face, I'm told, you can't tell I'm about to pass out. But I really am.


As it goes on, and I know that the audience is not about to burst out laughing (unless I've just thrown in a joke or something), it gets better. The knees don't, but the suffocated feeling in my chest does alleviate a little. I suppose as I do more presentations in class, I'll get over it. And I'll be friends with them, so I guess it won't be as daunting as a stage audience. But still.


The point is I have to catch up, and do presentations on the caught up work. And I don't have any casual skirts. I've only ever worn formal dresses to the times I needed to be MC, or my school uniform (long skirt on the days of speeches and presentations and such). HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HIDE MY KNEES?


Right, first thing in the morning, I'm going out and buying skirts. Whatever. I can do this.


Emily has been great. She's offered to help me catch up once I get there, which is a huge load off. Teachers are good, but I've always found studying with classmates much more effective. I'm not sure if this is a universal thing or just me, but there you go. I studied for my A-Levels by forcing my brother study in my room at the same time - he'd quiz me when I asked, which was actually a massive help for physics. He has a knack for asking questions that miraculously appear on the paper. And saying the answers out loud to him helped make it stick. 


On a different note, I really, truly cannot wait to meet my new flatmates. They've done just the sweetest thing. I received an invite on fb to an event, so I checked it out. Guess what it's called?


"Party for Shimali."


Since I missed out on freshers', they've decided to throw a little thing in my honour, and I am completely, utterly touched. Tears of joy, I swear to God, were there. (Side note: I'm an annoyingly emotional person. I cried, full on sobs, for Spiderman 3, when [SPOILER ALERT] Harry died. Even though the entire theatre was laughing at Tobey Maguire's scrunched-up crybaby face.) It's so very sweet of them. I know I'm going to absolutely love my new family.


It's happening this Friday. I really hope I'm in Dundee by then. Like, seriously. Every time I check the application status of the visa, I get a little pang of sadness when I see it still isn't through. 


If I haven't gotten it by tomorrow, I'll have to find the number for the residences and explain why I haven't collected the keys yet, and when I probably will. I hope they accept that I don't know. And then explain to the flatmates that I may not be there in time for the party. Which would be AWFUL, seeing as they've gone to all the trouble. 


*Sigh* Anyway. I'm going to sleep. Maybe things will look better in the morning.


Ja.

Rant A Bit, Cope A Bit

Well, that last post was a bit...um. Dramatic.


Sorry about that.


Anyway, people have started moving into Heathfield now. That's my new residence hall, at the university. I still haven't left to Scotland, and probably won't be able to for another two or three weeks. Visa issues. 


Yeah, I'm missing freshers' week. Which I was devastated by, and cried about. I ranted at the unfairness of it all for ages. But I've kind of adjusted to the news, now. My flatmates seem great (I've met four of the five via facebook), and have assured me that they'll post pictures and keep me updated with what's happening.


I also happen to be missing a week of my course. Which is super awful, even worse than missing freshers', really. Because, see, I apparently need to maintain 'satisfactory' progress on the architecture course to keep my scholarship. And missing the first week, when they introduce you to everything, is going to keep me at a disadvantage.


Ah, well, I'm sure I'll catch up. I hear that the very first class is at the beach. Again, disappointed to be missing that. But there are two architecture undergrads across the hall from me, in the next flat. I'll ask them for help, too. Hopefully, it'll all turn out okay.


The university has been super helpful about it all. I was a bit surprised, actually. Considering the experience I have with Cambridge (the high school, not university, duh), where everything seems to be done late, it was a refreshing change. I think I'm really, really going to enjoy myself at Dundee.


In other news, dad bought me a little camera the other day. I have that massive canon one that he's given me too, but I wanted a normal looking one, because I can hardly take the big one with me everywhere, can I? This one's a little black one, good specs. There was a prettier dark bluish-purple one in the store that I wanted, but Dad pointed out that I would be the only one to see the camera, while others would see the quality of the pictures. Which is true. And the black one was better in that case. And it looks rather sweet. A bit delicate, too. I'm thinking of getting one of those screen protectors that they sell for the Nintendo DS.


Oh, speaking of which, I haven't played Pokemon in AGES. MONTHS. Haha, I should get back to doing that. I made such a big fuss about the fifth generation and all, and now look at me. Poor DS is collecting dust, sitting in a dark corner. 


And speaking of Pokemon, just drifting off topic here - I've been watching anime to pass the time. I mean, I should be in uni by now, but I'm not. So I downloaded like 90-something episodes of this anime called Fairy Tail, and WOAH. Love. It. To. Bits.


I'm such a kid.


Gah, I bet this is all just a coping mechanism for my lack of uni life right now. Yeesh.


I'm off.

Spark

I am a spark.

Powerless, now.

Will You smother the weak?

Will You stamp out the wavering?

It's fuel.

You’re giving me fuel.

I will grow.

Time will flicker, flash, and my flames shall spread.

They will find You.

You shouldn't have tried to break the kindling.

They are my reason to burn.

They will be my reason to burn You.

The ground will scorch, the air will smolder.

It will be incandescent.

You will be ash.

Not one will find You.

Not one will look.

My fire will linger, dance, wait for another like You.

And I will burn again.

It Actually Happened.

Summer holidays are finally drawing to a close.


The results of the exams were released two days ago, at 3 a.m. on the 11th. I was a mess the night before; I had a serious case of the shivers, and for hours I felt like I was about to throw up. While the rest of the family dozed, I stayed up until about midnight before deciding that I really should hit the hay. 


Not that I got much sleep, in the end.


I'd set my phone to wake me up at three, and jolted awake when it did. I turned on my computer and headed straight for the results website, simultaneously looking forwards to and dreading what I would see. You know what happened?


The damned website wouldn't load.


It was beyond frustrating. Due to the number of people, all over the world, currently logging into their respective accounts to check their results, I couldn't get through. I checked facebook though, and saw that Bhavesh had gotten his after a lot of refreshing. I hadn't even thought of that. 


So I set about refreshing the page like a mad woman, praying I got through, and then thinking again and praying I didn't. At any rate, after about a half hour of that I managed to get in. 


And I got the grades. *epic grin here*


I squealed and shrieked and leaped out of bed to relay the news to the rest of my family. Mum was already up, preparing for Suhr (we're fasting), so she started jumping up and down in joy as well. Dad was still in bed, so when I went running in there he was quite groggy. Nevertheless, he woke up enough to congratulate me before he burrowed back into the blankets. I didn't bother telling Aehshaan until he had gotten up proper for Suhr - he gets grumpy beyond belief if you disturb his sleep. 


Since I got the grades, it means that I keep my scholarship to the University of Dundee. It means that I'm going to Scotland! I have never been so excited in my life. Or maybe I have, but people tend to believe that a singular point in the present is when they're feeling the most of any extreme emotion, I think.


So now I'm shopping. College shopping. This, I feel, is a vital part of the college experience. Especially if you're a girl. 


I have to get through the boring and tedious stuff, such as filling out visa application forms and buying earplugs and hangers and sheets.


And then there's the excellent stuff that I am enjoying immensely, which is shopping for clothes and shoes and that sort of thing. Better yet is coming home and trying them on with the stuff I already have, and then strutting around the house like a peacock on booze. It's absolutely brilliant. AND I have a legitimate excuse to buy all these new clothes now. Plus I get to wear a trench coat, since Dundee has snow, and I've wanted to wear a trench coat since I saw this chick in France wearing one and looking bloody fantastic.


I think the downside that I'm feeling right now is that I'm only allowed to carry 30 kilos on the plane with me. I've no idea how I'm going to fit everything I need into 30 kilos. Which is why I'm hoping that my parents' visa applications come through, because I can take up their luggage as well. It's not like they'll be staying very long.


And Fresher's Week! How I'm looking forward to Fresher's Week!

I don't know half the people they've shown in the video, but it looks just epic anyway!


And then there's the fact that I'm about to start my University life. Which is just about amazing in itself.


So.


Congratulations to me, for doing much, much better than I ever expected. And congratulations to all of you who got into your respective universities. I love you, and you've done all of us proud. *proud-parent sort of grin* We always knew you could do it.


To reiterate, the summer holidays are finally drawing to a close. But our lives? Well.


They're only just beginning.

This Is What It Means To Be Machangs

When the 26^th of July dawned, it brought with it the promise of adventure. Little did we know how much it would live up to its promise.

We planned the trip to play out in Poronnaruva and Sigiriya over the next two days. Our family spent the previous night at Yolany’s, seeing as we were going to have to leave the house at five o’clock to do the trip, meaning waking up at the ridiculous hour of four.

Yolany and I hadn’t been able to sleep. We fell into the on-and-off sort of state, where we’d jolt awake, stay awake for the next couple of minutes, and then doze back off. It was the excitement-slash-anticipation of the trip, I’m sure. At any rate, I started awake yet again while it was still dark outside. I reached for my glasses and then glanced at the clock hanging by the door of Yolany’s room, but couldn’t see it in the darkness. Mentally groaning, but not wanting to go back to sleep without knowing how much longer I’d have to lie in bed for, I got up and padded to the door.

Thing is there’s a dressing table, with mirror, next to the clock. So when Yolany opened her eyes for what must have been the hundredth time, she didn’t see me trying to squint at the time. No, she thought I was staring at myself in the mirror.

Later, I found out that she had immediately followed this thread of thought:

Oh my God, she’s psychotic. She’s woken up at this ungodly hour to stare at herself in the mirror. She’s going to kill me. How do I get out? She’s right in front of the door. I could run onto the balcony and scream through Yoan’s room for the guys to help me.

“Shimali?”

When she finally worked up the nerve to ask what the hell I was doing, and I told her, she glared at me, told me what had been running through her head (received with much hilarity on my side, considering the time and all), and called me psychotic anyway.

We couldn’t go back to sleep after that. We spent the rest of the night talking about God-knows-what, since we had an hour to kill.

The best part is that when we did get out of bed, rouse the rest of the house, dress and settle in the hallway to wait for the driver, we didn’t leave until 6 o’clock. That’s because Sumedha, our tour-guide-slash-new-awesome-friend, had slept in and consequently ran late. We needled him about that for the next two days, of course.

The next five hours or so was spent travelling to the bungalow that we were renting for the two days.  It was a nice place when we reached. Four rooms, ensuite shower and toilet, beautiful gardens outside, bird trail you could explore, catering staff. All in all, a pretty good place, really.

After we’d run to bag rooms and dump our stuff, we explored the surrounding area. Yolany and I found a field, in which was a dark brown – maybe black, I couldn’t tell – cow. Or possibly bull.

We thought it was a bull, actually, which is why we weren’t brave enough to go pet it or anything. Has anyone watched Song of the South recently? That kid got run over by a bull. Nearly died, too. So. We maintained our distance, taking fail pictures from afar.

Right after lunch we headed off to see the elephants. The jeeps were open, sort of like a truck, only with metal bars that you could hang onto when you stood.

While looking at elephants was interesting, nothing was as phenomenal as the single, lone tusker elephant. They're rare in Sri Lanka, for one thing, and the one we saw had apparently established himself as head of its herd. Also, male elephants are VERY easy to tell apart from the females. Five legs, don't you know. *grin*

The tusker had one hell of a libido, anyway. As we watched in fascinated horror, the thing jumped onto the back of one of the females and...well, copulated. Finished with that one, it wandered around for a bit before doing the same thing to another female. Clearly, polygamy is not an issue for wild elephants. The whole thing took all of under a minute per female. 

My younger cousin, Yomal, kept asking which elephants had five legs. He's twelve, you see. Yolany and I laughed and just left the explanations up to our mothers. Not much we could do.

Yomal's oldest brother, Yoan, was in the other jeep, a bit away of a distance ahead of us. The sad part is that when the tusker did his thing, the entire area could hear Yoan burst out laughing, my brother right behind him. Of course, we were laughing too, but not that loud. Their laughter was proper explosive, to an embarrassing extent. *snort*

Anyway, at one point one of the wild ones decided to chase our jeep. It cried out its trumpet-like cry, swiveled around to face us, and charged. Yolany and I shrieked in delight when our driver took off at once, throwing us back with enough force that we had to grapple to hold the metal edges of the jeep. We were standing, and its difficult to maintain your balance when your twisting around to face the crazy elephant and then turning back to urge the driver faster. The mothers were shrieking with genuine terror, though. 

The elephant slowed down and left us alone once it realized we were faster. It just returned to its herd like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

After that, we continued the elephant watch in relative peace. Our two jeeps decided to race each other to get back to the start, which was shit loads of fun. Thing is, the jeeps had to keep slowing down when we were near any elephants, in order not to startle them into a chase. We thought of the elephants as obstacles, Yolany and I, being so determined to win. 

Imagine, all of us screaming insults at each other as we raced side-by-side, pounding the roof over the driver's head and yelling to go faster, across bumps and dips and getting thrown all over the place, but still wanting more. Racing across the Savannah toward the setting sun, surrounded by wild elephants. Our entire family is more than competitive, so the guys were just as determined as us to make it to the finish before the other.

But tragedy struck. Well, tragedy's too dramatic a word, but whatever. Yolany's mum got thrown and hit her head against one of the jeep's metal ridges, enough that we had to slow down and let the boys go ahead. Yolany and I were disappointed, but nothing we could do, was there?

Luckily, there was a jeep in front of them, so they had to slow down. Ten minutes later, we came across them still on the tail of that jeep, the dirt road being a single carriage thing. We yelled out what had happened, and they looked genuinely troubled. We asked if they could pass us the water we had brought, but that was with them.

Josh stood up with the massive bottle, and I stood up to reach out and get it. The jeep drove off the road and onto the side so that I could get the bottle. I genuinely thought I was trying to get the water. However, Yolany and our jeep had other plans. As I reached out, the driver suddenly floored it, and we jumped ahead of the competition.

What I remember, very clearly, was the look of utter betrayal on Josh's face. Mixed with shock. We laughed about that look for days afterward. I still grin when I think about it.

We won the race. They cried foul, but what could we do? We would have won in the first place if it wasn't for Yolany's mum's head, anyway.

At home, we showered and got into our PJ's, ready for a barbecue. It was nice. Mum kept telling me to play the guitar and sing, but I was too embarrassed to play impromptu in front of people. I pawed it off to Josh and Yoan, neither of whom would sing, although Josh played a bit of Hotel California while Sumedha sang, and Yoan strummed some random stuff.

There were no hard feelings about the race. Everyone was in a great mood, since it had been a great day.

Next day, we went to Sigiriya. I can't be bothered typing it all up. Long story short, we climbed up 1200 steps to get to the top of a mountain that once was the palace of a king. We saw the massive pools where he liked to bathe with his 500 concubines, and we saw some of the original paintings of them that he had, painted right there on the cave walls.

And for the record, 1200 steps is a ridiculous number of steps. The king had to be carried up and down, so he had no problem. But the rest of them? And us? Geez.

We went to Poronnaruva next, which is basically a bunch of ruins from the times of another king. Me, being the awesome rebel that I am *snort*, waited until the tour guide was out of sight before I threw my camera at Yolany and leaped onto a "protected" staircase - barbed wire and all were in front of it, but I edged around it and got the picture, and then jumped back off. No one was the wiser, but I have the picture to prove it.

And conveniently, Yolany left out the barbed wire in the picture.

Anyway, we were tired as hell when we reached home that night. But it was a good trip, with friends and family. 

And, for the record, Machang in Sinhalese means Friend.

Ta.

Do Bow, Dear Sir.

Yesterday, while I was meant to be studying for my Biology/Maths exams, I felt like I needed to do something productive. Yes, yes, studying is productive, I suppose.


It is also tearfully dull.


So. I decided to train Bruno to do something, since I haven't trained him past any of his usual tricks. He can sit, go down, heel, come, and more recently, sleep and bow.


I taught him Sleep about a month ago, when I had another of these I'm-so-bored fits. Yesterday, I taught him how to bow. It took me a while, but I maintain that he is the smartest dog in the world - he got what I was trying to teach him pretty quickly, really. I'm quite proud that he remembered the command today as well. I think eventually, I'll turn it into a whole martial-arts sequence. Make him bow, and then go into combat. That sounds cool, no?


The video I've put up was taken today - this morning, in fact. You can see for yourself how well he's learnt. There were a few hiccups, of course, and I had to repeat a couple of commands - but do bear in mind that he is, in addition to being intelligent, hopelessly stubborn. Stubborn enough that you have to literally drag him out of a room via his rear legs if he decides he's too lazy to stand up and move himself.


And. Mum says to please ignore the laundry in the back. I think it proves we're a normal household, but apparently not. *shrugs* Up to you.

Enjoy.

In other news, Physics went alright. You know how you think you did pretty well, and then people start talking about it and you're like, "uh, shit. I'm failing"?


Yeah, well. My advice? People. Stop, for the love of all things ice-cream-related, talking about the exams. The paper's over. There's no need to make the rest of us feel so shitty.


Recently, I wrapped up some loose ends with some old friends. We'd been in an argument in which I was in the wrong. I wrote a massive apology though, sent it, and all seems to be well. I'm glad. I'd really prefer not having any enemies or such when I leave for Uni. Fresh start and all that.


Anyway. Biology beckons.


Ta.

Pre-Grad Stress

The High School Era

It's an odd topic to start a new blog with, actually. The fact that I'm graduating High School today, I mean. It's like I'm beginning something with an ending. But, if you look at it the way I do, I'm basically starting the blog where I'm starting out a whole new chapter in my life. I'm saying goodbye to the High School Era. So it's not odd, not really.


You're odd. *challenging brow-lift*


Anyway.


Every time I think about this evening, I get nervous. I should be feeling all delirious and drunk with happiness and all that, that I'm finally done with 13 years of schooling. But then I think about all the things that could possibly go wrong; My dress, being the length it is, is one of them. I am likely to trip and die.


Or my shoes. I love them, I think they're gorgeous, and they go brilliant with the aforementioned dress. But they are also high enough to put me on level with the Burj Khalifa  (Note: Exaggeration), and sharp enough that if I step on someone else's foot, the poor girl will probably have to bleed to death (Note: Fact). And wouldn't that just put a damper on things.


Let's not forget that I have to get my hair done later today; in about 2 hours, actually. And then I have to wear that stupid graduation hat, which will ruin my hair, I know.


And then, at the graduation ceremony, I have to walk across the stage, after climbing up its steps first. And then climb back down. In my dress. With the shoes. And the stupid "Graduation Robe" they gave us that makes everyone look like freaking hippos. And that stupid, stupid hat.


I'm doomed.


I'm just complaining though. I know I'll have to be careful, but I'm not the only one. I'm sure a lot of people feel the same way. But, if anyone trips, I just pray to God it's not me. Or maybe I should be praying that nobody trips?


Bah. To Hell with it. Let them all trip, for all I care.

Except me. *grin*


No, but seriously. If all goes well, we'll be done by 7:30 tonight. And then the limo's picking us up (by us, I mean myself and a bunch of friends) from school, and we're off to the after-party at Raffles. 


I hope I spelled that right. I've been confused lately, as to whether it's Raffles or Ruffles Hotel. But Ruffles is a stupid name for a hotel shaped like a pyramid, don't you think? So I'm going to go with Raffles.


Anyway, back to topic. I really don't like our graduation robes. We spent 70 bucks for that shit. My mum just finished ironing my robe, and she was furious with the quality. She told me to point out the person responsible for designing that craptastic stuff, but I warned her to drop it. The last thing I need is to make a scene. Even though the robes do suck.


On the other hand, though, I'm also sure that they didn't mean to give us terrible robes for our graduation. I mean, they have to wear it too, right? If anything, I feel sorry for them. I'm sure people must have given them hell about it. Poor things. They did their best. And the robes aren't so terrible when everyone's in it. The suckiness kind of pales when we're one big massive blob of people bunched together.


Anyway, the reason I'm doing this blog thing is to give my friends a way to keep in touch with what's going on in my life, outside of facebook. I'll try and update it on a fairly regular basis, and I really do hope I remember to. Plus Sahani (Note: Super-Cool Cousin) has been bugging me about this, that lovable creature. And Nikita (Note: Best Friend) has been asking for something like this, although I don't think she had a blog in mind.


And I think it might be interesting for any future University friends of mine to read. Not that I'm vain enough to believe that they will actually read this in an effort to know me better, but they might find it somewhat intriguing, right? To those of you reading this in the future, Hi! Glad to meet you. To my current friends, well. You know. Sup. *tips hat*


Anyway, Mum's calling. I think I have to get my hair done now. I shall (hopefully) update later. 


Ta for now.