I still don’t understand why he found it so funny

by Danica

Hello everyone. It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything relatively original to this blog, (7 months, actually) but I thought I’d try to get the blogging ball rolling again. Let’s start with a few updates.

For the most part of the year, I’ve been focussing on studying and getting my assessments done well before the due date. Any success? I guess so. I’ve succeeded in starting them more than a week or so before the due date, but finishing them the night before (or morning of) is a habit proving difficult to break. (If any writers of the webcomics I read are reading my blog and have noticed that I haven’t commented on your comics lately, now you know why.)

About a month ago I decided I was going to go for runs around my neighbourhood every second day. Surprisingly, I lasted about a week and a half, which is a week and a half longer than I’ve ever been able to keep up. I was quite proud of myself. I keep telling myself that I’m going to try and start again. But then I also tell myself that I’ve got a lot more assessments to work on and I need to make a study timetable of sorts so I can plan my time accordingly and set aside a particular time slot of every day to exercise. But the procrastinator that I am doesn’t want to make the timetables, physical or mental. Nor does the procrastinator in me want to put on my runners and run around for 15 minutes, and find myself gasping for breath. Oh well. We’ll see how I go.

Three weeks ago I turned 22. Hooray for me. I wasn’t particularly excited to celebrate my birthday, compared to the last 21 years, but I guess I’ve finally reached that age in my life specifically where my birthday is just another day. Not that I wasn’t looking forward to being spoilt (oh gosh, that doesn’t make me sound like a brat at all, does it?), but I wasn’t announcing to everyone, “Hey, you know what’s next Monday? You should get me a present and a cake,” like I tend to usually do.

My birthday celebrations ended up being week-long. Among my friends at church, we have an unwritten law that states that everyone’s birthday lasts for a week, and not for 24 hours. I have never experienced the 7-day birthday to the extent that I did this year. I guess it’s because I have a party planned nearly every year, so everyone saves the celebrating for the allotted 4-6 hours.

My birthday was on a Monday, so on the Sunday before, a few of my close girlfriends took me to the beach. I was dressed to be able to sit on the ground, as I was instructed, but had I known I was going to the beach, I would’ve brought swimmers and a towel! We had dinner at a beachside Italian restaurant and then went to the closest Max Brenner restaurant about 10-20 minutes drive away. On Monday I had classes from 9 AM to 2 PM. I was half expecting my uni friends to remember, but then I realised that not everyone takes note of their friends birthdays like I do, so they probably didn’t remember, especially since I don’t put my birthday on Facebook. (Plus, I had deactivated my Facebook account at the time.) I had dinner with my family at Pancakes on the Rocks (service was surprisingly quick), and then we watched the newly released Johnny English movie. We got to watch the movie on the eXtreme Screen and we had the whole theatre to ourselves. My dad joked on his Facebook status and to people that he hired out the whole cinema just for my birthday. On the Wednesday, one of my girlfriends that was with me on Sunday took me to a local hill to watch the sunset, then we had $6 steak at the local pub (or “tavern”, haha), and then we enjoyed chatting over a “ho cho” (hot chocolate) at GJ’s. On Friday was another of my friend’s birthdays, so we celebrated both of ours (hers particularly) with Japanese food and a lot of cake. I could not breathe by the end of the night. I still have some cheesecake leftover.

On the Saturday, another one of my friends organised a dinner for me at a local Italian restaurant. The original plan was to go to a Japanese karaoke restaurant in the city that we love, but we discovered that not only is it busier on the weekend, but it’s also pricier. While I was driving to the restaurant, I got into a car accident. I wasn’t hurt, though I was thrown forward a little from the impact, but the main damage only occurred on my car. I had stopped at a roundabout to let another car turn right (for those overseas readers, I live in Australia where we drive on the left side of the road), and the car behind me, a Camry, was apparently slowing down too fast. The driver said he swerved to avoid hitting me full on (my dad said had he done so, my car would have been written off), but his left headlight managed to hit my back right wheel. So my car got a huuuge dent in it and it was no longer drivable.

Whenever I see painful, bloody things happen to people on medical shows, I think How painful or How gross, but when stuff like that happens to me, it doesn’t even faze me. So I always thought that when I had a car accident, I’d be like Oh, I just had an accident or I’d have some attitude like that, but actually, I was pretty shaken up. I was physically shaking all the way up to the restaurant from the shock, (I had called a friend to come pick me and my brother up) and until the food we ordered came to our table, I was still shaky. Long story short, the night with my friends (though not as many turned up as I was expecting) sort of helped me ease back into a normal-ish mindset. Midway through dinner, I wasn’t even bothered by the accident anymore.

My mum works for the insurance company that we’re insured with, so the next day, I already had a rental car (gotta know people on the inside). They had said the smallest available car they had was an Outlander, but after we had signed the papers and everything, they gave us keys to a Falcon. Nice.

I got my Yaris back on Monday and yesterday when I drove it again for the first time, compared to the Falcon, it felt TINY. I used to drive a Camry, but the change from my Camry to the Yaris was nothing compared to the change from the Falcon. Every time I turned the wheel, I felt like the whole car was gonna tip over.

It’s almost 11:30 PM and I wanted to publish this post before midnight, so I’ll give you one more story.

Today I went to the Apple store to get my Mighty Mouse checked out because my scroll button doesn’t work properly. My mouse still works fine; it just doesn’t scroll. Anyway, the “Apple Genius” checked the warranty on my mouse and it turned out my warranty had expired, which meant repairs would cost approximately $115. My mouse cost $99 when I got it, and it doesn’t exist anymore. The wired version costs $55, and the new wireless Magic Mouse costs $75. As the “Apple Genius” showed me the prices of the other mice available, he heartily laughed at the enormous difference in price while he told me I was better off buying a new mouse. It was a funny and ironic situation, but his laugh told me that it was the most hilarious thing he had ever heard.

That’s enough stories for now. I hope I haven’t bored you. Let me leave you with this hilarious Left-Handed Toons comic that I came across today:


– “Keep moving forward.” – Walt Disney