Saturday

I feel a day like yesterday is worthy of some mention.

For one, I think I made quite a name for myself in the SATs examination hall, with my persistent inquries on protocol (largely due to my severe inability to follow written instructions, although I must say, the invigilator was terribly incoherent, which resulted in my having to ask each question thrice, creatively rephrased) and my even more persistent nose-blowing. (if you've got a SAT pun, I think I've already heard/used them all)

A short disclaimer here - if I don't do well on my SATs, this post never mentioned I took it, okay?

Two hours into the paper, my table was FILLED with used tissue paper, which was beginning to gross me out, and I suspect, the guy next to me as well, because he killed his enthusiasm in me after I started blowing my brains out vehemently. If pulling out a sheet of tissue paper, putting it to my nose and subsequently emptying the contents of my nose takes approximately 13 seconds, and I depleted 2 packets of tissue paper (x 2 (20) sheets), then the total amount of time I spent nursing my flu during the test = 520 seconds = 8. 3333 minutes. Perhaps if I knew how many calories one burns when blowing her nose, the information might be more useful. I don't know.

I met Karen and Eleen later, my two gorgeous longtime buddies. It was so nice to see them both again, Karen and her eccentric closet (if you think I dress creatively, you need to look at her), and Eleen with her miniscule denims that put the short in 'shorts'. So I began the day, looking like the most dressed up person among nearly 400 wannabe Ivy League candidates with my favourite pair of glam gold and green heels, an exciting camisole, denim miniskirt, lovely cardigan and ended the day looking like a plain Jane in a cardigan from the fifties, a camisole, a skirt and shoes. Bespectacled too. (Did I mention they are GORGEOUS and PETITE?)

But there wasn't much time to thoroughly feel my disadvantage in the Looks Department then (feelings of inadequacy flood only in retrospect), because we were immediately overcome with acute Spiderman 3 temptation. Which we would have gladly succumbed to, if not for the fact that we already made a([n] indefinite) spidey date with a fourth, Shum. But thankfully, given our strong principles, coming to a decision wasn't too hard - we queued for three Spiderman tickets. :D

But I suppose Fate is moral, because they were all sold out. We ended up watching a cheap Thai production: Letters to Death, which, despite being not very alarming, freaked me out (and continues to freak me out) horribly. But as Colin says, company - rather than what you do, makes for a good outing. It was a good outing.

The thirteen year old us would not have recognized the three girls who prowled the mall on Saturday. Chubby girls, canvas-shoed and topped with neat, schoolgirl haircuts never saw this evolution coming. But as we laughed at and with each other, tripped over our own feet, walked into things, and played popcorn games, I think inside, we never really changed. (: