Searching for a prom dress was harder than losing weight AND getting that group of old man to stop singing their 80s songs at 7 in the morning. It makes one wonder if times really were so bad that the older generation had to convert our void deck into their own little PartyWorld.
Anyways, back to point, prom dress, search, hard.
My sister, her good buddy Hui Fen, and I practically combed through the entire Far East Plaza for a formal dress. You see, searching for a dress wasn't hard. They have it everywhere: next to their counters, next to the toilet, next to the shoes.. You get my drift. And searching for a beautiful, formal dress (that would have made a tomboy puke) wasn't hard IF YOU HAD THE CASH.
So, I tried on a couple ... (not really, a million was more like it) of dresses. It was either too big at the back, or too big at the front (oh shut up, most of us aren't blessed with God-given assets unlike *ahem* Mag *coughs*)
The runner-ups were...
"Oh come on, you can fit another person in this dress with me in it!"
"I can't believe you even gave me this dress! [Flags it around] Bright Pink?!"
"WOW, I'm scared of myself already."
"I'M SWEEPING THE DAMN FLOOR!"
The sales assistant were all too helpful that I would like so very much to throttle them with my bare hands. Not that I was being a nitwit and picky over all sorts of frills and thrills. But they were OBVIOUSLY A) Blind B) Color Blind C) None because they couldn't be bothered to help.
AFTER 5 HOURS, I finally bought a dress from some obscure shop whose name I conveniently forgot because I was more interested in counting the number of crystals on the crystal chandelier than looking for my dress.
"I don't care," said my sister, huffing as she did and she stuffed a random dress into my hands. "You better buy this dress."
I tried it on. It fit. We bought it.
Ta-DA! The journey to buying a dress. I know man, it's the hardest thing in the world.
I'd tell you what's happened. But ya wouldn't believe me even if I did. BUT A SOMETHING HAS INDEED HAPPENED. Singaporean retards would know.
A LEVELS ARE (UN)OFFICIALLY OVER.
You understand what this means, don't you? This means my stomach gets fed something other than high msg maggie noodles, my already pale skin gets natural sunlight, my physical being gets to bob around the house rather than being cropped up in my study room facing my terminally unresponsive pile of notes, and....DRUM ROLL DRUM ROLL....RAIN IS FREEEEE!!!
Not forgetting my silly Literature Paper 4 A Level examination on the 3rd of December of course. BUT WHO CARES?! I don't. Do you? If you do, I'd personally climb through my monitor screen and shoot you with my blunt pencil.
It was under unprecedented circumstances that the Rain should find herself facing Ren a.k.a the computer. Ren was a devilish knave who enticed and arrested attention from Rain's studies! Unfortunately enough, with the lack of hindsight and whatever you call human conscience, the Rain succumbed to temptation and devoted herself 2 hours reading Death Note manga.
I am on the brink of death, are you? (insert volcanic eruptions and tornado)
And for the better lack of sanity, I would say that should I possess a Death Notebook, the first name I'd scribble on it would be - Rain (8 November, 2009) dies a peaceful death and has her ashes scattered across the Japan sea. (so much for water pollution but heh.)
End of Part 2: The Rain and the Internet
P/S: Something's wrong with photobucket????? (insert more question marks)