One day in a distant time and age, Joseph Stalin, dictator of the Soviet Union, was greatly agitated when he discovered that his pack of cigars had gone missing. He immediately contacted the head of the KGB and ordered him to locate the person who had stolen his cigars. The next day, Stalin opened one of the drawers in his desk and — wonder of wonders! found his missing pack of cigars inside. He phoned the head of the KGB and told him to call off the search, and that he had realized that he’d misplaced them in a drawer in his study. Then the KGB officer said, “Uhhh, too late, sir, three people have already confessed!”

Haha, just a Communist joke that my dear father imparted to me. If you didn’t understand it… just know that basically everyone accused of conspiracy or treason in that time had to “confess” even if they were innocent and had no knowledge of the crime.

Hmmm, I was just wondering… Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton? I’m bringing this up today because Obama just happened to visit a certain city in close proximity to our suburban town… they’re both excellent candidates, in my opinion. But I’m a bit torn between the two. Anyway, go Democrats 2008!

Uhhh, I am feeling out of it. Long story short, I devoured three chocolate chip cookies, one package of Florida’s Natural fruit string, a bagel, and truckloads of graham crackers this morning. The greatly increased sugar intake, of course, caused me to feel hyperactive and strangely happy. The effect began to wear off after school, so I ate another dozen graham crackers to remedy this. Unfortunately, exhaustion set in for good around 5:00 pm in the afternoon, and I ensconced myself on the sofa until I realized that I would be in major doo-doo if I didn’t get a start on my homework.

Then, wonder of wonders, the goddess of fate deigned to smile upon me and blessed all of the beleaguered students in our school district with yet another SNOW DAY.

Ah, there is a truly a terrible but wondrous beauty in snowfall so thick and rapid that it forces responsible parents to fear for their children’s safety and to agree to not to bring them to Taekwondo class, to spend hours backed up on the freeway and to leave irate messages on the answering machine, and to spend two hours relaying the tale of their murderous return journey over the telephone, while their high schooler daughter waits impatiently for an opportunity to access the Web via a dial-up Internet connection, and watches a news special on Mormon polygamy instead.

Well, well, well.

As an extremely relevant aside, F.I.R. is perhaps the best Chinese-speaking band I’ve ever heard. Their pop/rock style is original, the production quality is first-rate, and Faye’s vocals are practically angelic. Real is also a very talented singer… and Ian! I love his sunglasses ^_^.

“跟我說 love love love
大聲說 love love love
有一天這世界會為我改變…”

As an addendum to my previous post, we also had Tuesday off because of subzero temperatures. Yes, two snow days in a row. Quite an unprecedented turn of events.

I was just thinking, whilst I contemplated the meaning of existence this morning, as is my daily tradition… that all of the things I love invariably disappoint me at some point or another, either by disappearing entirely or… by becoming something painful instead. And every day, I live in continual fear that one of these two things will happen.

I cannot provide the details, but there are people out there who know how to exploit this flaw of mine and therefore they torture me endlessly. And I’ve realized over the years that I’ve learned to prepare myself for such an eventuality by forcing myself to despise, or forget, if possible, those things that I love. However, forgetting is usually impossible. So in that case I begin, unconsciously, to destroy my former feelings of fondness, nostalgia, or whatever it is, and instead cast towards its way feelings of contempt and bitterness, until I truly lose whatever I attempted to bury in the first place, and have only faint, comfortless memories of what they used to be.

*sigh* *re-reads above paragraphs*

Well, that did not feel very satisfying. Nor did that feel remotely adequate. I suppose I should go drown my anxieties in a greasy bowl of beef noodles now, as lunchtime has just arrived.

For the last several years of our high school’s illustrious history, the blissful two words, “Snow Day,” signifying the American tradition of closing schools in times of bad winter weather, was very rarely uttered by any member of the student body except when youthful voices were raised in bitter complaint.

Such as:
Human #1: I sure hope there’s a snow day tomorrow.
Human #2: … You jinxed it.

Or:
Human #1: Hey, I heard that the guy in charge of announcing snow days is from Alaska.

But now, on this glorious Sunday evening, let us raise our voices in joyous celebration.

Jenny-fa: THERE’S A SNOW DAY TOMORROW!!! PRAISE ALLAH!