Plans never go according to plan. It's just the law of nature.

Alright. Mission Port Dickson is officially aborted. In its place? Clubbing plans.

Oh, jimminy.

On Saturday I was mysteriously summoned to help out back in alma mater. By the current president of the Chinese Cultural Society.

It seems as though my phone number is being passed down the generations.

Thank goodness I went back though... the blocking of the play was an accident waiting to happen.

The main character looks kind of familiar though... either he's one of them famous local child stars, or my head is officially screwed by uni.

Assuming my head has screws.

I got more pendents! And a ring! And a new top! Somebody is a very very very very bad influence on me.

Flirt flirt flirt. I'll need a steady soon. I'm becoming very unstable. And it's supposed to be summer holidays now.

My, my... I'm getting desperate. That IS a surprise.

Bio-clock ticking, me guesses. Tick tock tick tock.

After the changes brought about in the last few centuaries, I'm surprised the evolution of humans does not yet include reseting the bio-clock to ring in later years.