What the...?!?

Thursday after class, my friends and I had a momentary lapse of sanity when we decided to have our own “photo shoot” at the lagoon, haha. Inhibitions be damned. We posed and internalized as if we were truly a group of high-paid, professional god-looking models, bwahaha! Wisha wisha wish!

There was even a trio of passers-by who were all smiling (or rather laughing?) when they saw us in position. They did clap too, mind you. But I’d like to think it was out of sincerity not mockery ;p

The Little Prince

I never knew how moving The Little Prince could be until now. It’s a Saturday, and such a lazy afternoon at that so I found myself taking Aly’s copy of this Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s work, out of retirement. It’s a shame that it had taken me eighteen years of existence before I finally had the chance to read this novella. But I reckon that now is a good time as any considering my age as dangerously close to that fine demarcation line of being a child and being a grown-up.

I remember this conversation I overheard about a year or two ago. I was at this bookstall at AS walk browsing thru their books. This student beside me was gushing about her fondness for The Little Prince. The book seller, who’s an old man in his mid-40s, answered back to the student saying that it’s a truly extraordinary book, and then he went on recounting his short story when he first bought his own copy, supposedly for his young son to read. Out of tradition (and maybe to be on the safe side too) he read it first before handing it over to his son, but what he didn’t expect was for himself to learn a lot more than he expected to be, from what is technically, a children’s book.

For a while, I was curious about the mentioned book. But I did not buy it right there and then of course, for reasons that 1). I had no business getting a book since during that time, I was still on a critical hunt to find Albert Camus’ The Plague required for my English class. 2). I thought the old man was just making up his story, an underhand ploy to sell his books. 3). And finally, probably the most conceited of all reasons there is: I fancied myself old enough to read such a children’s literature. So, I left. The Little Prince forgotten afterward.

But now, one or two years later, after reading the book, I could attest to the old man that I was just as entranced by the book as he was the first time. What I thought was a simple just-to-pass-the-time leisurely light reading turned out to be a profound, insightful teaching about human character and conduct.

It’s essentially a children’s book, but thankfully not the usual once-upon-a-time, fairy tales of prince and princesses whatever, but a rather shrewd account which, if I’m being honest, has more significance than some of the adult novels I’ve read before (hint hint: Fern Michaels' Future Scrolls, yuckkkk! I wasted my money on that one! Don't make the same mistake I did!).

Now, The Little Prince… that’s the highly recommendable one. Go read, if you haven’t yet. It’s one extraordinaire of a book every adult must read before they die, yes.

A little secret if I might add too: I wept. Towards the end. It’s a less than 100-paged story, and I effin’ wept like a little girl whose rag doll had been snatched by a playmate. But I wouldn’t say it’s pathetic or something to be embarrassed about. It’s natural. One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets herself be tamed.

Doomed

I am a disgruntled teenager who will do anything in the world just to have another day off.

Or maybe half day will do.

Gosh, I’m going back to uni tomorrow but my take home course works are yet to be touched. X_X

On bended rule

Rules are good.

They set the order of things. They give chance to fairness. They’re safe. They prevent mishaps. Hell, they even make (some) people a tad responsible, so much as they know not to break them.

But rules give as much disappointment as pleasure. They tend to be a great pain in the a$$ in the most unlikely time that you may often find yourself saying, to hell with them, and cursing whoever Pontius Pilate it was who set them in the first place.

I believe in the goodness of rules, really. But it’s the sensible me that believe even much more so that any normal human being was, is or will be a violator to a rule at some extent.

Last Thursday, I was so eager to break one. I lost my I.D. (again!) and in effect, I couldn’t get in to the library. I went to the Photo ID Room to get a new but it was this horrible guy who deprived me from getting one.

Horrible guy: Sorry, you can’t. The UPIS kids are the ones scheduled today. Freshmen and upperclassmen will resume their rightful schedule next week. So come back then.

Pitiful Annel: But Sir, I really need the I.D. today to go to the library and borrow a book I must have for one of my subjects.

Horrible guy: Sorry, really can’t. It’s in the rule and the schedule.

Pitiful Annel: Can’t you really get me one? I mean, there’s not even the line of your expected students yet. You can take my picture now and produce the I.D. in less than five minutes, and I bet they still wouldn’t be here. Please, sir.

Horrible Guy: No. (turned his back on me)

Pitiful Annel: Grrrr…

Has he no consideration at all? I stated my case. I needed the I.D. for a scholastic reason. It’s not like I wanted to have a new one just for the fun of it. And what had me even more vexed was the fact that he was just there standing, waiting for the yet-to-arrive UPIS kids. What if instead of standing uselessly, he made himself helpful and accommodated me? His five-minute of standing could have produced me the I.D. I wanted. But no. Because he decided to stick with the rule and the schedule.

To hell with that rule!

And it didn’t add any appeasement that I was thinking how rules, in reality, are broken extensively. Exceptions are made. Adjustments are created. But only for special people.

Begrudgingly, I wasn’t special enough to have that pass.

I guess, rules are not that good, after all.

One hundred

Today marks the centenary celebration of the University of the Philippines. And I must say that I’m wholly overjoyed and flattered to be part of this momentous (literally once-in-a-lifetime) occasion and be one among the crowd to sing the beloved university, a happy birthday.

Rightfully so, everything is in hundred. One hundred notable UP personalities, one hundred balloons, one hundred fireworks display, and in the end, one hundred men with nothing but masks on to cover their whole life and awareness. Naked, boy! Haha…

Ever heard of the Oblation Run? Yes, the one and the same.

Not everybody I suppose understand the concept behind this naked-running, or streaking some may say. But I prefer it to be called as an expression.

An expression of political statements and protests against the system. A line of attack to communicate the sentiments of the people about the heaving political and economical condition of the country. A statement of sort, that is significant and not just what others may deem to say a fleeting lapse of sanity.

It is so more than a meaningless parade of the participants’ anatomical whatever, if some people see it that way.

On their first run ever, the runners, they had a cause: to protest the banning of the movie, “Hubad na Bayani” (Naked Hero) which portrayed human rights abuses during the Marcos regime around the 70’s.

Today, they still do: to petition for the state subsidies to the students’ education and to dissent the commercialization of UP. So, how’s that for a purpose?

And they say it’s publicity stunt. Give me a break.

Blah

A friend of mine sent me this text message and I couldn’t help but laugh… Wouldn’t you?

Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and her family riding on an airplane.

GMA: What if I throw one check worth a million pesos out of the window to make at least one Filipino happy?

Mike Arroyo: Honey, why not throw two checks worth half a million pesos to make two Filipinos happy?

Luli Arroyo: Mom, why not throw four checks worth quarter of a million to make four Filipinos happy?

GMA’s granddaughter: Grandma, why not throw yourself out of the window to make a million Filipinos happy?

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So, am I the only one excited about this book or what?

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I have an announced quiz on French class later today. Just saying.

Firsts

(nicked this pic from the yoopee website)

I'm feeling the centennial spirit tonight so I compelled on making a list of my memorable firsts in the university:

1. My first class ever was Kasaysayan 1, Section MHU4, MTh 10:00 a.m. – 11:30 a..m. with Sir Xiao :) Damn, I forgot our room number.

2. During my first Ikot ride, I was so terrified I thought I was lost when it made its route to KNL. I reckoned I was at the wrong jeep since the surrounding then wasn’t so campus-like as I saw town houses instead of college buildings.

3. Aly, Nique and Kristine were my first college friends. We were in this block gathering at Quezon Hall, sitting together at the stairs all the while waiting for our turn in the food, haha.

4. Greenshoppe at SC was the very first computer rental shop I went to, and it had been my favorite ever since. Nothing to complain about (yet?).

5. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to attend to the Fresh to Play concert for freshies during my time. My parents were being parents by not allowing me to, thinking that it was such a chaotic and precarious affair. For the record, I thought otherwise. And for the record again, I was proven otherwise :p

6. My first embarrassing moment happened during my Lawn Tennis class. I was doing my backhand swings against my partner when the sole from my left shoe split up.

7. The very first UP academic book I purchased was Adhika’s Kasaysayang Bayan from the Department of History :)

8. My first Toki ride was not until the second semester of my first year. I managed to get by without it during the first term since I didn’t have any Math subjects then. (Yes, I have this weird notion that Toki and Math are coexistent)

9. The very first meal I had during my first day was a Chickenjoy takeout from Jollibee Philcoa. Oh, and fries, too. Two large.

10. And the most pleasurable of all…my first oblation run experience as an onlooker! I have nothing but one word for it:

BOLD!

Whatever that means ;) Rest assured that my mind went to the gutter, bwahahaha.

P.S. Happy Centennial, isko and iska!

Feast of St. Anthony of Padua

Last Friday was our town feast. And for the first time ever, I wasn’t home to celebrate it with the family since I was still at the university. I didn’t come home until around nine in the evening and by that time, there was nothing left to indicate the festivity that had been, other than the expected traffic, empty dishes and dirty plates. It was a little bit melancholic to be honest especially when there used to be a time that friends and classmates would come over to indulge to the surfeit of foods not to mention the later talkathons and fair enjoyments. But that was before college.

This time around, not only had I lost my visitors but I, myself, had missed the most part of the feast day. The point in which the activities and frivolities proved to be most exciting and filling: the fair, carnival, bargain shops, fireworks display and all sort of contests, shows and amateurs for all ages and whatever sexes. Although the way I had observed it over the years, it was either the little kiddies’ musical show or the gay beauty pageant that always evoke the greatest kind of delight and the loudest round of applause from the audience.

But town feast is not purely a social occasion of merrymaking for it is also a religious event just as much. A time for thanksgiving and glorification to the town’s patron saint (St. Anthony of Padua) as a sign of gratitude for all the life’s blessings. And that’s when the abundance of foods comes into play to make the affair an unforgettable one. For a day, it is an open-house for everybody where foods and drinks are shared by everyone regardless if you’re family or not.

Such a simple, selfless fun on a festive day, typical in a small Filipino town.

A once-a-year cultural celebration and tradition to which—I had shamefully missed.

But I need not to cry buckets yet for I was still lucky enough to have witnessed the Karakol, the morning after.

Karakols (Filipino street dancing) are always fun to watch, something not to be missed if possible.

So Saturday morning came, I bolted out of the bed just right on time to witness one.

Loud but harmonic bands of drums and other percussions led the crowd as they marched through the streets. They previewed for the onlookers various Filipino songs ranging from the old folk Bahay Kubo down to the popular novelty, Itaktak mo. Then, dancing to the beat and queuing on the street, were the townspeople, girls and boys, young and old alike. They came in groups, all so beautifully dressed, next to the image of St. Anthony of Padua, which was also paraded before them as part of the custom. People danced and cheered to the end, satisfied and gratified, at ease and at bliss.

P.S. I know, the photos aren't all that good. Crappy angles. As much as I love the camera, so it seems that the camera doesn't love me back, so just bear with me on this one, please ;p

Old man and the pen

More often than not, professors don’t make their appearance until the second day, or even if they did so in the first day it’s rather brief and mainly consisted of the introduction part, syllabus-explaining/form-5 checking-part and if in case you would take a leak for a good five minutes, your return afterwards would just be in time to see that it’s already the goodbye-see-you-next-meeting-part.

There are, however, exceptional cases when the professor would make his grand entrance, very prompt and very prim…and very famous!

My exceptional case happened during my TTh 2:30 p.m.-4:00 p.m. class. Anna, Ronn, Marc, Joy and I were all chatting, having our own games of speculations and expectations. Suddenly, Marc gasped aloud, and his “Oh my god!” was the last thing I heard before in walked the Penman himself!

I was literally starstrucked! He’s a very swell looking old man whose mere pace commands natural respect and positive reception. He’s got this very peaceful and light aura in him that for the splittest of a second I honestly thought that there's no way in the bloody freakin' hell he's real. I mean, the Penman! All live and flesh in front of me and he’s going to teach us for the whole semester! It took every ounce of my breathing to not hyperventilate as I processed the information. Gaaah...

It felt so regal to know that the man who seems to exist only on his authored papers, published books and sometimes television appearances was just in the same room as I was and not the usual spectrum media away. And he’s our professor! Awww.

Back to uni

First days are usually uneventful…and short.

Dead and smelly

To-do list:

1. Research a little bit to prepare myself for French class

2. Call Ghie

3. Pack up some stitch of clothing good for one week

4. Burn an audio cd for Patrick (containing ai7 songs as requested)

5. Put the itunes installer to Issa’s flash drive

6. Get some sleep, you freak!

7. Take a bath

It’ past 3 am now while I’m typing this and it just occurred to me that I only have approximately eight hours left before I take off for the university. Sad, vacation has already ended. But I’m excited nevertheless. Actually, it’s unusual for me to feel this optimistic during a new term, but hey, it’s all-good! I have plans…lots and lots of them and hopefully I would be able to stick to them for as long as I could and if it’s not asking too much, then maybe accomplish all of them too…with flying colors, haha :)

Oh and speaking of taking a bath, I was reading some online articles earlier today and I came across this one which informs the readers that not taking a bath could be fatal. I know, sounds pretty grave, huh?

Naturally, not taking a bath can cause a person to itch a lot since the environment plays host to various species of bacteria and fungi that are known for delivering bites; now these bites are the one notorious for the itchy feel, thus causing the person to engage in an inevitable scratching frenzy. Ideally, the itch can be easily treated with a simple over-the-counter ointment and in no time, it will subside. However, there are rare but still existing cases that when a person scratch so much, the skin’s surface breaks. And this is not good. What if there are some serious bacteria hanging around the person's skin’s surface (the example given was staphylococcus). Through the open scratches, the staph can enter the bloodstream easily and wreak havoc on the system and so that’s when it gets fatal. Worst case scenerio: death

...corpse. morgue. goner. bye bye world.

So, having said all of that, yes, expect me to take a bath before I leave because dead-and-smelly-Annel is the furthest thing of a label I would like to have for myself thank you very much.

Bike and fries

Crazy cool, my mom finally got me a bike! And a pink one at that! I’ve been pestering her to buy me one since last month and just when I was extremely sure I wouldn’t have it this time around, she redeemed herself and surprised me with this very pink and über-chic bicycle! woot wooot!

We drove downtown to pick it up right after lunch. It was only her and me in the car, one of those mother/daughter things that we rarely do nowadays. Anyhow, I seemed to be on a roll today since after purchasing the bike, she even treated me with my favorite snack. (and to think that we just ate lunch then…haha) lucky lucky lucky.

favorite snack = french fries ; french fries = happy Annel.

See, I’m easily pleased. Just give me something-anything pink hell, give me a pink wig and I wouldn't mind it one bit then add a little chow of fries while you’re at it and voila! we’re so going to be BFF! ;p

Reasonable friends

I was at the mall the other day when I saw this real charming flash drive at Cd-r King. It’s very tiny and neat and snazzy, and better still, it’s PINK! You should have seen my reaction when I laid eyes upon that little bugger, haha. I just wanted to break down the cover glass and snatch that thing, run away from the mall as fast as my scrawny legs can carry me and then perhaps live under the rock for a day or two to avoid the cops...And I’m not klepto!

Seriously! I was awfully close to buying that if not for my friends who reproached me with their creepy narrowed eyes which greatly reminded me of JT’s, how I was being an impulsive shopper. They had to drag me out of the store and provide me some other distractions (“how about some DQ?”) because I swear my spirit was gravely injured. They had to remind me that I still have two working and efficient flash drives, not to mention my ipod, which can be used for the same functionality. Argh! why oh why do they have to be so reasonable?! Grrrrrrrrrr….

Here’s the pqi flash drive I was (and still am!) crazy about:

What a stunner, yes?

I have been tortured enough, so for the sake of my peace-of-mind and sanity, I am soooo going to buy that pqi next week! Screw my friends and their reasonableness.

Jollibee or McDo?

Have I told you before that my favorite food in the whole wide world is french fries? No? Well, it is! Passing by at Jollibee or McDonald's to grab a chow of fries is a definite must for me. Although if possible, I prefer the Jollibee fries a whole lot better than that of McDonald’s. I’m such a fries-obsessed parasite (and putting the it’s-a-matter-of-preference-crap aside), take it from the master when she says that the potato strips of Jollibee are waaay tastier and crispier, yes. (Jollibee should really pay me for this advertisement).

Even McDonald’s hash brown, I don’t really see what’s with the big fuss because I honestly am not digging it. (lol, peace, don't sue me).

I remember this one time when my friend called for a McDo delivery (it was our last resort since the Jollibee hotline was busy). After ten years, the delivery guy brought us the lankiest and pastiest fries that ever existed!…boy, I’m telling you it was daylight poisoning!

bad bad bad bad me.

You see here in our country, Jollibee and McDo have this bit of rivalry going on. Their branches are always one after the other that when you see a McDonald's in a certain area, I would bet all of my fictional savings that Jollibee is not more than twenty feet away. They’re two sneaky bastards that wouldn’t let each other out of their sights for fear of one outselling the other. Lovely…just lovely.

Anyway, I’m eating french fries right now as I type. My mom was kind enough to buy me my usual two large fries and a coke for snacks. Nice lady, my mom, haha. She always makes it a point to get me my fave every time she drives downtown.

P.S. If it’s any consolation to Ronald McDonald, I worshippp his orange juice ;p

Poor girl

There was this girl who lives in a town so remote that power outage occurs almost on a daily basis (well, not really…but still…). One morning she woke up feeling hopeful that she’d be able to accomplish all her plans for the day when suddenly BAAAM! Power gone!

To say that she was crushed was a gross understatement. So to save herself from a doomed misery, she looked for something to feed her mind and pass the time. Only to her utmost horror, she found no good-read-books in the house because she unfortunately lent them to her friends fe w weeks ago. In other words, the girl deprived of resources, was all ready to curl up and die lonely and wretched. She even got as far as to think of strangling her own neck but her tiny, well not really tiny but more like ineffectual hands wouldn’t allow her to get a perfect grasp of it for the murderous motive to materialize. Consequently, she didn’t die of course but rather ended up doing nothing but to rot in vain until the power was restored seven awful hours later...

Wow, that’s sucky. I pity the girl for the day she spent wallowing into a heap of nothingness and imposed idleness. She didn’t accomplish anything. So her day was WASTED!

Crème de la crème

Every time I encounter a French word, I tend to just shut up and nosebleed silently on my own rather than to read the word aloud for fear of embarrassment by mispronunciation. That’s why I was ecstatic when I finally got enlisted to a French class this semester! Whoopee!

It’s just a basic French course. While I don’t expect that I'd be able to construct a beautifully made multi-paged essay in full French by the end of the sem (although that’s a lovely idea to be reckoned with if I would), at least I have my hopes up that I’d finally be proficient enough to read the hemorrhage-inducing words correctly and somehow know the essentials of the language.

I’m thrilled! It’s the subject that I’m most looking forward to attend to on Tuesday which is our first day back at the uni. I still haven’t got a clue who would be my professor. But I’m keeping my fingers crossed that (s)he would be equally funny and clever. I said funny because I don’t particularly like the profs falling under the ‘terror category’. I don’t find such profs’ acerbic disposition challenging or charming because instead of putting me at ease to learn the craft, they rather give me the creeps, making me conscious-bad. Being strict I don’t mind, but being evil mean is a completely different story.

Regardless. Excellent mood puts me in a similarly optimist spirit. So tonight, I have nothing but positivity that on Tuesday, the professor to grace our classroom would be the funniest and the cleverest thing ever :)

A state of elated bliss

As of 2:00:48 PM today…I was officially enrolled!

Yay!

JOY unspeakable!

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Queues and all

Exhausting and terribly so. That about sums up the day I just had. It’s our first day of enrollment, in case you’re wondering. And as per usual, my dearly loved yoopee would not be the same much without all of those effin’ (it’s sexier without the g) queues, students have to endure every single day of the registration period.

And I’m not complaining!

… I arrived oh-so fashionably late, I ended up being so far behind my friends on the lines.

… I only had nine units of the supposedly eighteen.

… I forgot my ever-so-vital TCG (true copy of grades) at home. And had to face grave consequences.

… All the departments I had to go through were actually full and bursting that I could possibly die of asthma attack right then and there.

… The weather was soo impossibly hot, it’s 36 freakin’ degrees Celsius!

Nope, that’s not me complaining. That’s me stating a yoopee student’s way of life. (and errr yes, a little bit of complaining too, if I’m being honest)

The lines are endless; the crs is bitchy (err, lack of better word), some of the staff are in fact snappy, even the electric fans are scanty (wow, that’s random)…

All in all, it’s a little dose of momentary stupidity and HUGE ladle of enrollment cruelties.

The latter being a part of the bargain and you can’t help it so you just learn to live with it.

Yes you complain a lot (you’re human and you’re frustrated) but you don’t really hate it. Because hating it would be as good as to hating yoopee and hating yoopee is just plain hypocritical and ungrateful and unacceptable.

And sometimes you find yourself denying it as much as you could, but really, deep down, you love yoopee to death, warts and all, queues and all.

*nothing follows* *too tired to add some more* *stop talking to me* *me going to bed, bye*

P.S. 1 - And how on earth did I end up speaking in the second person?!

P.S. 2 - What a cheesy entry this turned out to be <_<

P.S. 3 - Unfortunately for me, I still haven't finished my enrollment fully. Need to go back there again and fall inline and fall inline and fall inline and fall inline again...have I already mentioned fall inline? Yes, single file only.

*nothing follows (this time it's for real)* *too tired to add some more* *stop talking to me* *me going to bed, bye*

All the time in the world

Ever since last semester, I had been meaning to make a ‘bio’ that I could post on my multiply site... only I didn't have too much time to spare, then. So, when the first opportune of summer break chanced on, I eventually took some effort to make one; just a simple, some kind of filler to the incessant about-me-box on my homepage, which would have been doleful and bleak if left unfilled. But now almost two months later, I noticed that there is already the need for me to revise that ‘bio’, and quick! since some of the things I mentioned then, are no longer appropriate and relevant at the present time. And to think that it has only been a month and a half, to be precise! Apparently, time is always in haste and hurry especially if you have a full-time job as a laze all summer long, as is mine.

At any rate, here’s my bio:

Annel was born January 24, 1990, in Maragondon, Cavite, a far far far far far away town, just a couple of blocks away from kingdom-come. She was joined 12 years later by brother AJ, a.k.a The Family Favourite. At M.P.S., she finished elementary years with her most memorable experience of being reprimanded by the adviser for doing the unthinkable of climbing a tree all by herself.

Later on, she was enrolled at Cavite National Science High School where she met her incredibly kick-ass friends a.k.a Noneym; they pretty much spent their time eating and laughing...and laughing and eating...in an attempt to abide by their precept of "Eat, drink and be happy for tomorrow we shall eat again!".

At present, Annel is studying at the University of the Philippines in Diliman, with no choice but to board and lounge at the most chic, posh, classy, glamorous, you name it, whatever-whatever blah blah boarding house ever built in the city.

She spends most of her time in the CAL Library now. But before you jump to a hasty conclusion that she's one studious doll, no, not quite, especially if what she has is just an ulterior, very dark and dirty evil motive of merely taking advantage of the comfort of the bookroom that's made even more attractive by the newly-installed aircons.

Initially, she used to pass her time hanging out with friends at FC Galeria 2, a.k.a The Epistaxis Tambayan (officialized as theirs solely by the geographical concept of territoriality), but because of the abhorrent and asthma-causing paint smell coming from the nearby Carlos P. Romulo Hall, she, along with her friends, has no choice but to move to the CAL Library (told you so!).

Annel, to her immense relief, is currently on her summer break, although unfortunately she's broke and peso-less as we speak, her Epistaxis friends partly to blame for that because of their constant trips to Trinoma and DQ and other none too cheap diners. But at least, given her vacation and all, she has all the time in the world now to rationalize her enormously stupid idea of taking Folk Dancing as her last PE, despite the glaringly harsh reality that she’s born with two left feet.

--finitto--

There the last paragraph is somewhat wide of the mark. Summer break is ending in a week’s time, so, disappointingly, I no longer have ‘all the time in the world’ as I previously claimed so. University is now screaming hard right onto my face to get my lazy arse out of the bed and away from the computer, and start opening [academic] books, instead. Ekkk :/

Leprechaun's luck

First post! Say hi to Annel :)

I was never really a huge fan of blogs to be honest. I never really liked them much, largely because for the longest time, I used to have this twisted way of thinking that blogs are exclusively for people who can write. And when I say write it’s categorically the Leo Tolstoy-esque/JK Rowling-ish writings or anything that comes close or exceeds. And regrettably, I am no them. But hear me, I’d readily cut off my hands in a heartbeat just to have theirs. (well, maybe not really as far as vying to that suicidal length, but you get the picture, yes? ) I was just plain bored today and in effect, I created an account to try something new, rather than my usual stare-off contest with the four walls of my room and the cows and the goats outside my window. You see, a bummer’s life is never good, so for a change, an attempt on a blogger’s life is in order. Good luck to me :)