I’m sitting here for half an hour already, bashing my brain to come up with something remotely intelligent to say. And it’s failing me, sorry to say. Thus my good people, I have no choice but to present you with another tedious account of yet another tedious episode of my tedious life (I’m quite fond of that word…*guffaws*). Wait… didn’t I do this all the time?? You’d think I’d have invented something original by now- some other wise-cracking line that would sort of perfectly atone for that boring story looming to drive readers snoozing below- but regrettably, I am not that creative. At least for the time being, as it is. So let’s be content with the fact that we can’t have everything we want in this world and the word 'boring' is in fact an overstatement reserved only for cynics! *laughs*

My sister and I went to KL last friday on a certain mission (MY mission by the way, she a reluctant but kindly company). We were surprised to learn on the way that our youngest aunt had been warded for dengue fever. Thus our 3-day stay was mostly painted by the serene pastel hues of her hospital room. Seeing her sprawling feebly on the bed and on drips brought me to an ancient memory, a distinct desire that I used to have during my juvenile days (LOL). Get this- I used to wish that I could be warded in hospital and have all my friends visiting me. Dear ol' me, I even dicussed the exact illness I would prefer- appendicitis (because it appeared to be a one-off thing and ensured a speedy recovery... at least that girl in the first book of Enid Blyton's Malory Towers had). And as I stood by the checkered red sofa beside the bed, I realised what a holy nutter I had been. For three days I observed my aunt and came to an obvious conclusion that staying in hospital is no fun. The friends-visiting part is undoubtedly tempting but all things considered, not worthy of the pain and ordeal you and your family have to endure. And now I have to think twice before proclaiming, "but how could they think like that??" at kids declaring the funniest and most peculiar ideas. My cousin Adrianna visited and innocently asked my aunt, "did you remember when the mosquito bit you? And where did it bite?" Haha...

We got back home on Sunday and I wouldn't lull you to sleep with another story of my public transport mayhem but this I have to say- I am yet to meet wacky people on the LRT- L-A-R-G-E ladies or drag queens (teehee...). People I've seen so far are normal city-goers with normal attires and behaviour- in plainers words, boring stuff. But wait... I forgot my stance on the word boring. So well, they're not boring. Maybe I am. Blah.

ps: My aunt has thankfully recovered and was discharged yesterday. ;)