THE DREAM OF FLIGHT.
This week has been an aeronautical celebration of sorts: the first flight of the massive new Airbus, and the self-indulged chase for the opposites of the words lift and thrust. Now, that has reminded me of a school day fantasy. No, not the one involving a scantily dressed Jessica Alba, me and some wine in a posh hotel suite, mainly because I was more preoccupied with the Sega Megadrive back then, and perhaps because Jessica Alba was relatively unknown in the early 90s. It was one of flight. And unlike my present self, I used to do quite well for examinations. Before the start of every examination I always had this ritual of envisioning me in a cockpit of an F-14, flying up in the clear blue skies, a white smoke trail on the wings, leaving all the other jets behind. Figuratively speaking it was a drive to performance. The fastest, coolest looking plane in all the sky, and I'd look back and smile , soaring and accelerating quicker than anything else up there in the blue yonder. Now, these "flights" became an integral part of success, and as my fascination for aircraft dwindled, so did my education performance. I'm not saying thinking about aeroplanes and flying caused the dwindling in grades, I'm just saying it's related; and as I got lower down the educational performance scales, this ritual occured so much less until it eventually became non-existent in my everyday mind. Performance is what ever drove me. Performance, or high-performance specifically; could always hold my attention. It was something about being on the crazy end of things, to live on the edge; the feeling of coming out truimphant in something that seemed so stressful and yet make it look easy. Present day, I'm still looking for the high-performance me of yesteryear to relive the passion and truimph lost; and as how my passion for aircraft has evolved into wing spoilers on the boots of Evos and Imprezas, I do suppose that it hints heavily that the high-performance me of today cannot be found flying in an F-14 anymore, but more in the driver's seat of an F430. On to the news..

WHITE FLYING BIRD.
Apparently, the opposite of thrust is drag, and for lift, it's weight(or gravity). Another one of my life's questions answered.

COLLEGE DRIVE.
I'm about as eager to go to college and complete my assignments as my dad is eager to get me a Ferrari. Which could explain why I tend to play Outrun 2 all day and watch car programmes that not only leave me feeling sad and unmotivated, but incredibly frustrated at the fact I now drive not only an underpowered car, but an underpowered automatic (the choice of old-age-pensioners (and some women) worldwide). And it's not one of those triptronic boxes either. OK. Enough car-related bitching for the day.

GET IN.GET OUT..
Get the girl. Isn't that supposed to be college life? Well maybe for more open ended communities. But not in this country (to be fair, at least not in the community I live in)... I got in. Getting out is going to be a major problem. And on that bombshell, till next week!

ALCOHOL DEPENDANT SOCIAL LIFE.
It's 2:05am. As usual, I'm sat here again typing up blogs that showcase the highlight of my week; or life, per se. Makes me think. Blogging usually take up a good portion of the time between when I'm getting ready for bed and when I'm in bed. Which is a time frame of a few hours. Not normal. Nothing really comes to mind to come across as really interesting except that I woke (correction: did not sleep) up early this morning and went for a nice good ol' fashioned breakfast; which sadly did not include any bacons and eggs as pre-planned. OK. So nothing really interesting happened to me today. I even watched like a quarter of Eternal Sunshine Of A Spotless Mind; right before I fell asleep. Not that the movie wasn't any good or hopelessly boring... I'm just not the biggest Kate Winslet fan. Only Kirsten Dunst in her underwear kept me briefly awake. But it was probably because I was overly tired from the night before. So I'm sat here listening to Oasis (which is great cos their music is just depressing enough and interestingly catchy) and I'm thinking... today was rather bland as days go, but in no way was it uneventful. It was a day that was different in many ways. Yes, I suppose the word different describes it best. It started unordinarily, mainly because there was no end to the day before but an actual continuity to the day itself. Much like a CD on repeat. OK so I got changed at 6am... well 6-ish. Then went to Ian's to pick him up for breakfast (something I rarely do) and then actually drove around in brilliant twilight of the morning (I know it's daybreak but I really really like the word, or the sound of it perhaps.) and ended up having the rather traditional Malaysian breakfast: Nasi Lemak. Then Theo arrived and had McDonald's breakfast. Cue intense feelings of envy and self-blame. McDonald's opens at 8am not 9am??? What gives? Who made the rules? Fuck Fuck Fuck. I could've had Big Breakfast. Then it was off to Ian's place to hang till about 11. Read 1 and a 1/2 issues of a terribly slow paced Spiderman comics (well it could've arguably been my waning mental stability), then it was off to draw my rubbish rendition of what was supposed to be comic genius. Mucked around, watched like the first 15 minutes of Sin City (which was rather excellent), drove back after 2-3 circles around Bangsar to buy some time. Reached home; started Eternal Sunshine... and went to sleep. Woke up in the evening dazed maybe, confused not quite. Then had the sudden urge to do homework till about 9pm. Had dinner with Denny, who abruptly came by. Followed by a night of watching monday night sitcoms on Star World. Then this. Like I said, slow paced variation to the normal life of sleep and The O.C.. But then if this isn't the interesting lifestyle of the week then why is it on the blog? Granted that it is a rather different one? Or is it a prelude to the story that I went to a party last Saturday; got fed to the brim with classy finger food, got drunk(ish), met up with an old crush and achieved social nirvana? Sounds very Clarkson. I kinda like it.

REGULAR WEEKLY NEWS WILL RESUME SHORTLY AFTER THIS BLOG.

"A man who makes time to listen is a man who gives a shit."