Enjoy 2013 with Girls' Generation's Comeback!

It's about time! The long awaited return is back! We all waited for their comeback for so long, and after releasing teaser videos, teaser photos and such stuff, we're all excited to see the new style of SNSD (Girls' Generation). Recently, SM Entertainment released teaser photos regarding Girls' Generation's comeback, the title was named "I Got A Boy" with Korea's national flower, as it's symbol. Days had passed and SME posted more photos about Girls' Generation's 4th and newest album. The style and icon are very much unique, unlikely amazing and very colorful. An update about SoShi said that their song "I Got A Boy" is a very catchy song, and it is a very different song alongside the other songs they had. The album too, is unlike the past albums. "Dancing Queen", a Music Video posted by SME on Youtube week ago is a clue about this whole excitement. The music video was made last 2008, and the song was a remake of Duffy's song "Mercy". The song itself is very cute and makes everyone groove, if you would also notice, the music video itself is very related to Girls' Generation's song "Gee" with matching jeans and blouses, colored jeans and cute shirts. Anyways, let's go back to the main part of the excitement. Teaser photos of SNSD's newest album "I Got A Boy" were all fantastic! The members themselves showed a different side of them as they go along with the days making us fans alert with more updates. I mean check it out above man! Those teaser photos were all great! I can't wait until January 1, where their comeback special is entitled "Romantic Fantasy" and it will be aired in 3 major Korean channels on Korean Standard Time. This, is a very awesome gift this 2013. And I  bet this album will top the charts again! So, stay tuned!

I GOT A BOY !! :D

A year to end, a year to start with.

It's New Year's Eve, we all know what this means, it means we all are a day closer to facing the New Year with a good reputation and a very inspiring tradition. Families gather, friends and loved ones hang out, till we all wait until the clock struck 12. Fireworks light upon the night sky, showing off wonderful colors around and making loud noises we all enjoy. We all scream, have fun, eat, and sing along the great ambiance around us.

But isn't it clear to us that every New Year we must thank the Lord God who created us? And helped us cross the path we started since the beginning of the year? This year about to end, we must thank Him for everything he'd done for us. If we would look closely, our lives made a big big blur this year, we cry, we laugh, we get angry, we rebel. But that doesn't mean we would stop.

This coming year, 2013, a lot of happenings and surprises will occur to us. They say the number 13 is a bad luck number, but that doesn't mean the year to come will be full of bad luck. No. Just think positive, do the errands you do. And find the peace you're finding to apply it in your life. If you enjoyed 2012 as much as I did, then enjoy 2013 more and give a new meaning to it. Remember 2012 as a great memory, face 2013 with all your might and expect the unexpected. A Happy New Year to everyone!!

The Time Travelers by Linda Buckley-Archer

During those first days at Hawthorn Cottage, Peter felt abandoned by his father. It grieved me to see it, for I could understand the pain he felt. The rage he sometimes kept inside him was slow to lift, and he refused to give himself the comfort of speaking of it.

Once he said he wished that I had been his father. Then it was my turn to be angry. "What madness is this?" I cried. "What crime has your father committed that you would trade him for a cutpurse?"

"He has committed no crime," Peter replied, "Unless a father can be punished for not loving his son."

-The Life And Times of Gideon Seymour, Cutpurse and Gentleman, 1792.

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I

The Birthday Treat

In which Peter looks forward to his birthday treat and subsequently argues with his father.

It was early morning on Saturday, the sixteenth of December, the first day of the Christmas holidays. In a large house on the edge of London it was beginning to get light. Peter jumped out of bed and stuck his head underneath the curtains to look outside. The sun glowed behind the houses on the other side of Richmond Green, and the cloudless sky was palest blue-- not even a wisp of a cloud. "Yes!" exclaimed Peter, and flung himself as hard as he could onto the mattress to get a good bounce. 

Even torrential rain could not have spoiled this day, but crisp sunshine was better. When it was actually Peter's twelfth birthday, back in September, his father had been delayed in Venice on business and could not get back home in time. He postponed the birthday treat again at half term because of a business trip to New York, and had inked it in his diary for the first day of the Christmas holidays. Nowadays, it was mostly like this with his father's promises. They hung, like mirages, shimmering in the future, and the closer you got to them the more you expected them to disappear. When his mother had gone over to work in the States for the first time and his father was supposed to have been making a special effort, Mr. Schock had still managed to turn up at Sports' Day after Peter's big race. There was always another meeting, another client, another urgent matter demanding his attention. 

But today was the day: sleighing on the dry ski slope, followed by lunch up in town, followed by a Premiership football match-- a whole day with his dad, doing his favorite things! And nothing could stop it happening now. The smell of frying bacon and sausages that was drifting up the stairs confirmed it. You never got cooked breakfasts on ordinary days in the Schock household. Peter snuggled back under his stripy duvet, relishing the moment, and pretended to be asleep when the door opened.

"Wake up, Peter, time to wake up." Margrit was definitely the best in the long line of au pairs his father had employed with since his mother had gone to work in Los Angeles. She was German and made brilliant meatballs. Her "Ws" would sound "Vs". "Peter," Margrit whispered into his ear, "I know that you're awake. We go on a journey this morning. You must get up now. Your father must speak to you." She tickled Peter until he wriggled and his face cracked into a grin. But when his eyes met hers, she was not smiling. She looked uncomfortable. 

"What journey?" he demanded. "What do you mean?"

When Margrit did not answer straightaway, he shot out of bed and flew down two flights of stairs to confront his father, who was cooking eggs in the kitchen. His father was already dressed in smart clothes chosen to impress. One look at his expression and Peter knew.

"It's not happening, is it?"

"I'm sorry Peter, I really am. I'll make it up to you, I promise. I just had a phone call. I have to meet the head of the studios, who is flying back to States this afternoon."

Peter felt numb. This was not possible. Even his father could not do this to him a third time. 

"But the good thing is that Margrit can take you up to spend the weekend on her friends' farm in Derbyshire. We'll do this when you get back. I know how disappointed you must be, but you've got to understand.... A lot of people's livelihoods depend on this meeting."

Father and son stood looking at each other over opposite sides of the kitchen table. All the morning's happiness started to seep out of Peter like a puddle onto the kitchen floor. But when his father walked around the table to put a hand on his shoulder, Peter quickly stepped backward out of reach. The adrenalin rush of sudden fury made Peter's fingers clench and his heart pound. He did not want to be understanding. He did not want to go and visit some strangers with Margrit. He wanted his father to cancel the meeting. He wanted to hammer his fists against his father's chest and tell him never, ever, ever again to break a promise he had made to him. 

"I don't know why you bothered having a kid." he shouted. 

"You never want to do anything with me-- I just get in the way!"

"If you're going to be like that, there's nothing I can say," snapped his father. "You I'm here for you as much as I can be, but someone's got to earn the money to pay for all this." He gestured vaguely at the gleaming stainless steel kitchen and Margrit, who was polishing Peter's shoes. Margrit looked as if she wished she was somewhere else.

"Wait till you're a grown- up with responsibilities. You'd do exactly the same if you were in my place." 

"No I wouldn't! If Mum were here, she wouldn't let you do this to me."

This was a bad move and Peter knew it. But the words slipped out before he could stop them.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me." His father's voice had become steely with barely controlled rage. "How dare you say that, when it's your mother who's chosen to work on the other side of the planet." He picked up the frying pan and shoveled the now overcooked eggs angrily to the bin. "You'll go with Margrit. End of story. And I'll think about rescheduling your birthday WHEN and IF you stop acting like a spoiled brat."

Peter hurled upstairs, unable to cope with the feeling of helplessness, the sense of injustice that surged inside him. When he reached the first-floor landing, he turned round and leaned over the banister. 

"I hate you!"

And those were the last words that passed between them.

Peter did not notice his father turning on his heel, wincing visibly. He fled into his bedroom, slamming the door so hard that fragments of gloss paint fell onto the carpet. Peter stood at the foot of his bed, kicking and kicking at the wooden leg until it hurt, holding back the tears, listening to the sound of crunching gravel as his father drove his car up the drive. He refused to give in to his impulse to rush down the window and cry, "Dad! Come back!"

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To be continued........

Then and Now.

The birds are chirping, winds blowing and trees dancing. I stroll around the park- alone, waiting for someone to accompany me. I eat and walk, munching my Ritz Bits off my fingers, and I start to drink a can of coke, to make myself satisfied.

I observe the people around me, waiting to greet me whenever they pass by. Instead of greeting or bowing, they roll their eyes at me. As if I'm such a piece of dirt, a dust from the ground. They don't know the danger coming nearby.

Suddenly, someone shouts my name-- breathing heavily- panting, "Mandy! Mandy!". I stopped short, heart throbbing in my chest, I was nervous, terrified, but I was wrong- I turned around to see who called my name with a croaking but alert voice. "Uuugh, it's only you." I said, holding my hands up to my chest to stop my nervousness, it was only Clarisse, my best friend. We are best friends since nursery and I'm glad to have her until now.

"Could you please stop whining?" I snapped, barely looking at Clarrise's eye, I was annoyed, completely beginning to start lecturing my best friend for being such a jerk- letting me wait for an hour in a fine autumn day, making me finish my favorite snack before she arrives and for shouting my name loudly, it looks like somebody died in the middle of a fine autumn morning.

"Why do you have to be so annoyed Mandy?" she replied back, making me feel guilty for scolding her. "It ain't just nothing, it's a very important situation and I need YOU to come with me." She stated with her legs aching from running around the park just to find me, I suddenly thought that I might have been too harsh to her. I come towards her and said, "Hey, hey, don't get mad, okay?, I'll come with you, okay? I'm sorry". I braced her, and laughed at myself, making myself look crazy in front of her so that she would smile and be nice to me again. Clarisse looked at me with sharp eyes and stayed like that for a few seconds. Then she laughed and snorted "You look like you've been hit by a bullet in the head aye?." She laughed so hard that her laugh sounds like a weird laugh- you know, from a clown or a circus player.

"Oh, am I?" I said, gritting my teeth, clenching my fists, turning my fingers into rolled ones, my way of escaping my embarrassment. But I'm so thrilled to be nice again. "Oh you stupid whore". Clarisse said snottily, our jokes may look dirty, but it feels funny to hear them. It's our way of exchanging jokes.

"Let's go now shall we?." Clarisse said, getting serious. "It's really important buddy." She retorted. "Is it really THAT important?" I said, narrowing my eyes on her. I feel like I'm being a lazy gal. But then again, I should listen to her.

"By the way Clarisse, you never told me where we're headed.", I said, getting curious. "You were in a hurry when you came here, but when we go to that place, you're saying, your gestures seem calm and normal. Really. Like there's no event being held on right now and there are no people involved or are waiting for us. She stopped, didn't look at me, then grabbed my hand then I was shocked to see sprinting feet, I catch up her pace and ran with her, towards the Cherry Blossom trees, along the autumn leaves, and the benches. People start to look at us with curiousness, but steady eyes, they thought that two people were running for their lives because they were being chased by cops- but their thoughts are all wrong.

"We have been running for 30 minutes buddy." I complained, I am so tired, my lungs are bursting for air. Panting, breathing hard. We have been sprinting around the streets of Radem, in the middle of Madagascar. It's about time to stick to what's trendy- "traveling a lot". Clarisse stopped, her face red with tiredness, wet with sweat. She mustv'e been doing the "running-type" overactingly that's why her cheeks are so red. "We're here." Clarisse said, taking out a huge towel out of her backpack. I forgot to express Clarisse's physical identities- and mine too. I had blonde hair and green- almond eyes, with geeky glasses that run through my eyebrows up to the under of my eyelashes. I wore a sweater with floral decorations, a scarf, an Adidas-Jeremy Scott shoes and a "The North Face" backpack. Clarisse's features are dark browned hair, with gray eyes and a sleek chin, with chubby cheeks and a slender figure. She wore khaki shorts, a long-sleeved blouse with a vest and an Jansport bag. She wears her hair in a bun, and she wears piercing- lots of them.

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That's it for now buddies, I need to work on the second part Sorry for being a cliff-hanger *evillaugh*

The futuristic story of Annika Kilter

This ain't an ordinary story about fairy tales or action stuff or whatever it is you read in a book.This-- is a very peculiar story about how Annika Kilter became a headmaster, and an owner of the ever popular Kilter Academy. This is far from the book, and NOTICE THIS: I MADE THIS STORY MYSELF. HA-HA. You think I just got this story from the book aye? No. You're wrong. As I said, Annika Kilter is the most funny and the youngest headmaster of all the schools in the book world. (Sorry Dumbledore) Anyways, let's go straight forward to the story shall we?


Or maybe we could go ahead to Annika's childhood, or the day when she was born!---- "hey shut up will ya? cant you just tell the story from the very beginning?", oops. that was my little brother, who, in turn is annoyed with my lame statements... Anyways, let's travel back in time when Annika Kilter was born.


It was the 12th of March, a cold,  breezy, night within the streets of Ireland. A log-cutter named Brad Kilter and his housewife, named Ann Kilter began preparing stuff for their first baby boy. (They thought it was a boy but they didn't know after Annika was born that she was a girl) Suddenly, Ann began to shout and said "Dear! help me out here!" she stated, she was so frustrated and exhausted, she felt like her lungs are going to burst from breathing so hard. They were so poor that they haven't got the chance to go to AASP, (Association of Artistic Surgeons Pronto, their dream hospital where they'll give birth to Annika) so they just called Ann's mother, Laine Stewart, to help Ann give birth.

Then an hour passed, Brad and Laine were having a hard time getting the child out of Ann, she (Ann) was so tired of pushing, and shouting and closing her eyes from the pain she's receiving that she fell asleep and her husband and her mother, do the job. When she opened her eyes, she was deprived to see that her son is a baby girl. She sobbed and cried, because she wants to have a child with a boy as it's gender. Brad said "Aren't you happy to bear our first child? Even if it's not as we dreamed of?". Ann sniffed and stated "Of course I'm happy for us, and for the child but I don't like it's face, it's very scary to look at". Laine said afterwards "aaaw darling, don't be upset, you'll see, we'll name her Annika".



10 years later, Annika grew to be a young, beautiful, fine, tall, white, sexy lady. But her traits aren't very lady-like. Instead, she loves pranks, loves to make trouble out of dangerous stuff, loves to make adults go angry with her. Or in short terms, she is a Troublemaker. Her professors are all giving her demerits for being such a badass, in a young age.

"Young lady will you stop being such a serious trouble-wrecker?" her professors would say. She ain't a very good person to talk with though, instead of nodding in understanding, like all girls would do, she would stomp at her professors' feet and run away from trouble. What the heck is she doing? Rummaging around her school and hiding from her professors the whole day won't be a good solution.


As the years go by, Annika continued to create chaos and make her teachers grow wrath upon her. She is a very bad lady. She once thought: "If I would have my own school, I would suggest the students would be trouble makers, pranksters like me, and I'll give them demerits as rewards.". It is a good thought and it came true. Actually, it did came true.



After she graduated from ADSLU (All Demerits Should Love Universities), which is the most amazing school/college she encountered with. She started to build her own school, with the best architects, engineers, teachers to create the institute. She picked the most secretive place nobody ever knew where it is. She was right, she was successful, after being a trouble maker when she was a kid, teenager, and until now, an adult.
She sighed, it was the best achievement she had.



So, having trouble reading this story? Then make your own ! HAHAHAHA Anyways, I still promote my newest eye on this book named "Merits of Mischief". Ms. Annika Kilter's biography isn't in that book, but she is in there. Hahahahaha Anyways, have fun being a Trouble-Maker and a Prankster buddies ;)

The most amazing gift I had.

It may sound weird to others, it may sound sweet to everyone I know and who knows me, it may seem like a drama to unfamiliar people but let's face it. You buddies had this gift before, and is spreading. This gift-- the most precious of all, will be the most memorable. Some may have gone to another country or city, others have went to the farthest place you ever knew. But you're still in touch with them. I keep thanking myself I was born and I keep thanking God that He had given me this gift I will forever keep-- My ever-dearest Friends who, in turn, looks after me, cares for me, worries for me and helps me when I'm in need. We may have conflicts, troubles, arguments but it all fades after a day or two. But we continue to laugh and have fun. Remember the day when you first met your first friend? That's the kind of thing you can call as "friendship". I always tell my friends that friendship starts when you talk to each other- whether it's a common thing you both like, or a random but funny stuff. You start as acquaintances, but you get together fine. You both laugh and stare awkwardly at first but you get to shout and slap her in the arm when you both get to be so close. I remember when I was in Pizza Hut eating with my friends, some of us aren't really close like my other friends but I realized we all had the same thing thinking about. We all are having fun. As we eat and laugh and shout, we all did had a great time. That's the kind of thing I like. Frankly speaking, I choose my friends carefully, especially in boys. I know. Because boys these days are difficult to find especially in attitude. Luckily, for me, I had boy friends who are nice and can accept that I laugh weirdly- like a cabinet opening. HAHAHA. I continuously thank my friends for accepting me for who I am. I may have lost some friends because of conflicts, but they return to me safely, it may be awkward now, but we still have that spark that makes us friends. Sometimes I regret being mad at them because their a jerk, but I forget all about that stupid stuff and move on. We all make mistakes, I say, we're all people, and we're all not perfect. Everybody is unique in their own way. I say. Since I love my friends a lot, I don't want to lose them anymore. I want to hang out with them more than in the past.



Being a Senior is a hard obstacle, I experience hardships and stress. But thankfully, my friends are by my side. They help me when I need assignments, they help me when I'm in trouble. I don't ever forget to pay back everything they've done to me. So now, as I write this not-so long blog, I want to make people open their eyes and see the truth that friendship comes first before material stuff. It (material stuff) may fade gradually but friendship doesn't. Friendship might have troubles along the way but it ain't temporary. Face the reality that having a friend by your side is the most greatest gift you ever had. And don't say you regret having one, because if one day you're all alone, you will end up finding a friend and if you haven't found one, it's all your fault. So don't waste your time arguing with your friends and thinking their such jerks blocking in your way. They're just helping you to be a better person. They are our guides, our walls to lean on, our helpers. So don't forget to thank them. Because I will cry in front of them when I graduate and I'll say "Thank you for everything." I will miss my friends. I will miss them a lot. And if the times comes, I will meet them again and I'm glad they're still there to comfort, laugh with, have fun with, help with me whenever I want to. I don't take them for granted, I keep them as precious stones, I don't usually leave them when I'm finding new friends, I'm not actually finding new friends but I'm encountering on new ones. And I have been adding new ones lately. That's a good thing.



Don't ever take for granted your friends, because one day when you're too busy collecting stones, you might have lost a diamond because of your business finding new ones. Don't make yourself forget them. Because they don't usually forget you. That's it. Sorry if my statements were somehow long. But it's a lesson and a memory I'll keep.

Why that title?

Why would they prefer to write a book with "Peculiar" as it's title? Is it really Peculiar? Strange? Uncanny? I guess so. Since I have reviewed tens and tens of books, I might as well think why they wrote a book with strange titles in it. As a matter of fact, this book is so peculiar I decided to read an excerpt of it. It was a very mysterious story. I won't spoil, I'm no good at spoiling, and I HATE SPOILERS, you know why people say they hate spoilers but they also spoil themselves? Weird no? Oh Grat. (My way of expressing some word with weird languages) I slipped it. Am I being overwhelmed? Excited? Yes. I am. And I have. See? How many times do I have to speak through weird languages? I am a clone, or if I'm not a clone, an alien in a human form. I learned human language and applied my language from my territory. (The territory of BaLusfen; That is, a name of a famous headset, Bang & Olufsen) I have dedicated my life through writing in a paper, and I never published it. Why? I'm just lazy, not shy, just lazy. But, since then, I decided  to make it interesting and eye-catching. Looks with unfamiliar features.Short stories but with good sense. But I noticed my published works are really out of this world. Why so? See for yourself and read and laugh and cry. But I'll tell you one thing. I'll be making a story one day and I'll be an author. ANYWAYS, back to my statement, Stefan Bachmann, from my reviews about him, is a very intellectual guy with glasses. This debut novel of him "The Peculiar" is really Peculiar. And the city's name is called "Bath", why? do they need to take a bath every hour in their everyday lives? Uh I guess you need to read it yourself. HAHAHA. you thought I'll tell the story right away aye? Go to a bookstore and buy yourself a copy of this, or, find an ebook file of this book and read it the whole day. No eating, drinking, sleeping, taking breaks and talking. Just reading. And you'll be mesmerized by it's story. Wait. What? Smoking? Uuuuh Sheesh. Very funny. HA-HA. It's illegal and it's very bad to smoke. I've never tried to smoke before since I'm a minor aged human being. Oh wait, I'm not young, I'm a grown up, in a teenage human form. Interesting. Strange. Weird. Uncanny. Peculiar.I hate very long stories. And I'm mixing up ideas from a story to another random thought. Please understand.





Okay, let's proceed with other stuffs needed to be touched. How 'bout.... this? I LOVE THIS BOOK BUDDY. And I am enrolled in a school mentioned in this book, "Kilter Academy" is it's name, students here are with "devilish, sly grins and smiles" that goes around their faces, and I am one of them. I'll say, the troublemaker groups are all amazing and I picked "Les Artistes", troublemakers who likes Art. But who cares? As long as I'm in Kilter Academy, I'm safe. HAHAHAHA. Anyways, just read the book at let yourself be mesmerized by it.

Oops, Ms. Annika Kilter is coming towards me and I don't want her to see me featuring the book, the school and the troublemaker groups here. Sorry. But I really have to go. 'Til the next time buddies!

What an awfulsome day.

This day ain't an ordinary day. I'll say it's very exciting and "awfulsome". Awfulsome is my invented word which means Awful and Awesome. HAHAHAHA Sounds weird aye? Anyways. Please be informed that I Am Not Elaine Hahaha. The irony of introducing yourself. Anyways, I'm just a newbie in a blog site. A novice? A beginner? A new player? Yes. Correct mate. I'll be definitely blasting your space and you'll be dying in a mocking scenery. What is a mocking scenery? It's a part of a story which makes you go round and round in circles. Sounds awfulsome aye? Heehee. This will be a part of my book. A turning page. A flipping table. A stack of cards and a pack of hungry beasts rummaging around the streets of this virtual world.

Traditional days aren't ordinary days. Those were the past times when you need to buy a Chanel bag and a Dior gown. When you have a 20$ bill, you're filthy rich. When in the present times, your $20 bill turns into a simple money. How sad. Poverty is spreading. Havoc is everywhere. Why am I telling you this? It means I'm very worries about my buddies out there. They're breathing lifelessly, with bones and skins around them. No food, no shelter, no water. Why? Governments aren't REALLY making their best to make this world a better place. Seriously. If I were a president, I'll do everything to prevent chaos from become a disaster. Or are those two words compatible? Uh. I'm changing a subject once in a while, after a decade and after a century. See? Don't you get it? I'm so flamboyant right now and I need someone to watch over me. During that nine month hiatus and still ongoing, did you ever think people would forget about me? I have athazagoraphobia, or likewise, fear of being ignored, or forgotten. Simple as that. Let's not forget about everybody, or everything special around us.