Yeah so I'm here. I've touched down in the US of A. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'm pretty sure I got something else. Took a walk round the u of c campus, set up an american bank account, ate some american chinese food - i guess you can say that my day was pretty packed yesterday. Still, there seems to be this sense of nothing to do in the air for some strange reason - no matter how much I might actually be getting done, it still feels to me like I'm not really doing anything at all.

Life is just so laaazy.

I miss home already.

Ah well, I guess america really isn't bad at all, though. I've been hanging out a little with my godsister and her parents and they've all been really nice. Everything has gone really smoothly so far, from clearing customs to setting up a bank account - it's all been really fast and painless. Honestly, I'm pretty pleased with how everything has been going so far. The only problem is that my brain is rotting due to lack of activity. I think I shall write a great Singaporean play or something. Then again, I'm far too lazy.

How could I fail to mention lunch yesterday at Club Chinois? No matter, I suppose, Adele Wyrr has a more than adequate account of it on his/her blog.

Today was a day for lasts; ok, so I'm being a little melodramatic, seeing as to how I'm only going to be gone for a year or so before the holidays come round again, but if the last two years were anything to go by, a year can be a hell of a long time - seriously. As I type this I'm frantically trying to back up my mp3 collection and miscellaneous downloads for transport to the other side of the world; yes, the inevitable take off draws closer still! Less than 24 hours now, then it's an almost brand new life in the land of the free and the home of the big mac.

Tonight I had dinner with my extended family - my grandfather is still worried that I'll go crazy and start smoking and drinking and picking up all sorts of other bad habits. I'm so thankful he hasn't been privy to my recent indiscretions. What would he think of his perfect grandson then? I shudder to think of it. There are far too many worrying thoughts for me to, er, worry about as it is.

An old friend stopped by and we had a chat over left over Sprite and white wine; yet another thing to miss.

What is wrong with me? I should be happy now, right?

Things to do after a party:

1) Sleep
2) Go to another party
3) Eat supper at god knows where
4) Get on the internet and hope someone reads your post-party ramblings

I figure I have covered all four bases, even if not in that particular order. Therefore, I have, er, er, done all those four things.

Today was one of the few debates parties that I've actually enjoyed; several debates parties involve slogging through a night of bridge and dance dance revolution (which, to be perfectly honest, I perversely enjoy) and waiting for supper, which is usually rather pleasant. Tonight, however, was pretty fun. Not since swing dancing (or rather, plodding like elephants) in my attic did I have so much fun at a debates party. Perhaps it's just my mind, trying to give me more reasons not to leave sunny (and by sunny I mean sonofabitch hot) Singapore.

So, well, here's to all the so called good times with all my genuinely good friends and all the other miscellaneous interesting people who have flitted in and out of my life; I am soon to be embarking on an oh so new chapter of my slightly less than epic, more than piss in the park life - a new world of opportunities (and also, perhaps if I'm lucky, cows) in the united states! Land of the brave and the free, and also a hell of a lot of porno! Not that I look at that stuff, of course.

Which brings to mind the real question - how long will Joel ramble on and on about leaving before he gets on the friggin' plane, already?

I'm sorry, I just want everyone to love me.

What am I trying to do? I'm trying to revamp my stupid webpage; I've come to the stunning conclusion that, to my great dismay, I'm not even funny. Several of you may have already come to terms with your own un-funniness, but to me it's the sort of devastating revelation that strikes me once every, say, week or so and leaves me utterly paralyzed in its wake. I want to be a funny guy, but sadly, I'm not. [insert expletive here]

Given my current situation, however, my inability to crack a proper joke is hardly my primary concern. What really pisses me off is that, in just under 3 days, I will be kissing this humid little island paradise goodbye - I won't even have time to laugh at the national parade or go on a last drinking binge with my ah beng friends or tell the girl I've liked for so long that I'm madly in love with her (if I didn't get you there, well, shucks); it's all just so damn fast, you know? I'd use the phrase 'just like yesterday' somewhere around here if I were the type to use phrases like that.

I never really thought this would be a problem.