At exactly eleven minutes and thrity-three seconds past seven in the morning, a weary, adolescent child of no more than fifteen exited the arrivals terminal of the Kingsford-Smith international airport, stepping out from the cool, air-conditioned haven of the indoor city of amenity-facilitates into the belting heat of the unforgiving Australian sun. As he walked through the quickly-pacing travelling pockets of excitedly hurried tourists that criss-crossed the red-brick forecourt of the comparitively small building (having just returned from the architecturally supersized skyscraper oasis of Dubai, everything seemed just that little, incy-wincy bit miniscule), he reminisced over the past six weeks, and the memories and experiences that he would undoubtedly remember for all eternity - for the rest of his life. From the magical gondola ride through the faded elegance of Venezia's narrow back-canals, to walking above an neverending sea of clouds atop the Swiss alps' Mount Pilatus, staring awesomely into the horizon as the sun shone omnipotently on the mountain peaks protruding the still, white expanse that lay before us. From the sheer magnificence of the Vatican city's Sistine Chapel, to the trendy, modernised charm of Paris' Latin Quarter (the intellectual, studentesque, fashion, antiquity and artistic social hub of the most beautiful city in the world), to the mysterious, jaw-dropping "incandescence" of the gold mosaic ceiling of London's Saint Paul's Cathedral.

  For the rest of his life.

  Yes, this means the-social-bunny's returned from his trip to his now, seemingly humble Sydney. He's had the most amazing time - feeling, discovering, experiencing history. And now? Well, now, he's jetlagged, having only returned yesterday. But expect photos, and stories, and horridly-written anecdotes - all written with awfol speling and grammar bad. And expekt it soun.

  And yes, that's also right.

  Click here's here again for 2007.

  Yawning and terribly unfocused;

 

  the-social-bunny.

  Today, I leave for Europe. For my first White Christmas, EVER.
  In fact, I leave in an hour.

  If there's one thing that I've discovered, it's that the time waiting silently for the departure date of your holiday is the longest you'll ever spend in your life.
  The unrelenting ticking of clocks, the perpetual drip, drip, drip of water from the half-broken tap, the neverending tap of fingernails on the dining table - it's enough to drive someone crazy. And call for a plumber.

 However, despite being the single most painful feeling that a person could ever experience, it's also one of the most exciting. Since the final r-r-r-ringgg of the wretched school bell that ended our hour-long game of scrabble in maths, I haven't stopped smiling. I've been a lighter, brighter and a nicer person (mind the rather subtle Nellie Mckay reference), and my unwavering facial expression of utter enthusiasm has become unsparingly infectious amongst family members, friends and neighbours. Even right at this moment, as I sit in the cushioned comfort of my black desk chair, I'm overwhelmed with an amusingly stubborn grin that quite literally, extends from one ear to another. Seriously though, I'm rather sure that my perpetuously painful predicament might require the pseudo-functional powers of those dodgy Chinese "Healing Patches", - or even better yet, a small dose of horse tranquiliser.

  Nevertheless, I shall live with my pain. I shall pull through, like the valiant rabbit that I am. And whilst I'm sure you're terribly concerned with the severity and suffering associated with my unbearably excruciating state of pain (I expect cards and flowers by Tuesday), I'm sure you're probably more interested in the course of my upcoming travels rather than my increasingly degraded state of health. Shame on you. And that guy over there too.

  Yeah, you. You know who you are.

  For those of you who aren't yet informed of my trip to Europe, the bulk of my journey can be seen here. Additional to the locations specified, I'll me making my merry way though London, Oxford, Cambridge, Normandy, Belgium, Paris (for a good two weeks!) and the compellingly commercialist city of Dubai. 'Twill be nothing but pure aweeeesssome. Or "aweeesssomecore", as Ashwin might put it.

  2006 has been a fantastic year - I've had the experiences of a lifetime (and a few more to come, starting tommorow!), achieved feats I never thought I could pull off, discovered some great music, watched some utterly amazing movies, and established new and fruit friendships with several individuals through various means. To that certain few; (you know who you are) - thanks for hours of delightfully abstract conversation and your intensely interesting tales of life's soaring highs and (sometimes) sore lows. I regret not having been available to say a final "Merry Christmas" and wish you the best of summer holidays, but hey - consider this an incredibly apologetic substitute.

  To the Hwang twins, who helped bring further insight to this often introspective adolescent, thank you. To Lyall and Jordan, you've been incredibly bad influences (albeit charming and intensely amusing ones), and I promise to never again, crack a Kiwi joke. To Azukar (the assassin), Flump (the frogcatcher) and Lloydo (the blog-quitter), you've established yourselves as the three kings of wit, and for that, I decalare your utter awesomeness. To Jos and Josh - though I've not know you for a long time, it's been great to have "met" you, for lack of a better term. To Sianne, since our first, fractured exchange of badly spelt comments, I've held you in high regard for your sensitivity and emotional strength. To Ashwin, I declare you the "Official-blogger-for-when-Nathan's-in-Europe", and that you end every entry henceforth with the phrase "... La la la - Uh... CLOSING THE GOD DAMN DOOR!!". And finally, to the always-friendly Fillet - Darwin's not a city! For moving there, I say; "You're not people!".

  To those I know personally (including Mr. Thomas from the previous list, consider yourselves officially thanked and wished a Merry Christmas. You're undoubtedly much, much, MUCH more important than those internet fools (You're not people either!). In all seriousness, I wish you a happy Christmas and an equally as joyous new year. Except to Simon, of course. Haha, I want my English duxmanship back!

  Originally, I had planned a massive end-of-year blog, which I aptly titled "The Christmas MEGABLOG©®™ROFLOMG!!1", but due to the fact that I'm leaving home in under an hour, my devious plans were abandoned, and the already-written content will eventually be put in to good use. However, until then, you'll just have to wait. Until my return, I would graciously appreciate the passing on your knowledge of this blog's existence, so that I can continue to build this network of friends (and in certain cases, unpleasant acquaintances!).

  In under approximately half-an-hour, our taxi will arrive to take us to the airport. I'm sorry I had to make you endure such a boring entry, but then again, I wholly reserve the right to - this is my blog, for Cullum's sake (He's the equivilent of Christ!). In fact, anyone who actually read this paragraph, include the word "Craptacular!" in your comment (Let's just see you actually reads these entries). Once again, I wish you all a safe and joyous holiday, devoid of my nagging whines and proclamations of nonsensical so-and-so's. You've all contributed greatly to my development as a blogger, a hidden conversationalist, and a person.

  And so, I bid you a final farewell. May you all have a merry Christmas, and a happy new year.

  Signing off for the very last time (this year!);

the-social-bunny.

  Thanks for the comments, I'll return as soon as possible.
  Expect a blog around next Friday - Until then, I'll be studying for those pesky Maths and English placement exams like a good Asian kid should.

  Oh, and one more thing.
  11 days 'till Europe.
  Yessss.

 When in doubt, reformat the sucker with all your determination and might.
 You never know, you might get some increased comment numbers.
 Or not.

 Dearest readers, I have been incredibly disappointed with your response to my latest entries, despite the increased effort I have invested in "Click Here" and its (now cancelled) subsiduries. I am thus implementing a complete and permanent halt of blogging altogether, seeing as the demand and anticipation of my entries has been reduced to nothing more than an echo in the trash-filled halls of MSN Spaces. I have enjoyed my time here on MSN Spaces incredibly, and I would like to extend a thank you to all who have visited, commented, and essentially shaped "Click Here" over the months of its existence. However, perhaps if you had commented more, I wouldn't have felt the need to remove myself to shrivel in a dingy, cyber-corner somewhere. So, in essence, it's all your fault.

 Farewell, dearest friends.
 You shall be missed terribly.

Signing off, for the very last time,

the-social-bunny.

Tee hee.
Idiotface.

"Get out your measuring cups and we'll play a new game.
Come to the front of the class and we'll measure your brain."

 I am rather pleased to announce (with every last ounce of resentful bitterness and sarcasm residing in my seductively rodentesque body) that the lacklustre anticipation to the NSW Board of Studies School Certificate has wormed its immensely unpleasant way through my system, and looms dreadingly in the near weeks ahead.

 The School Certificate, for those of you not currently familiar with the NSW education system, is a statewide, across-the-board assessment for year ten students receiving education from both public and private institutions. Due to its oversimplified nature, it's generally considered an absolute pushover, and is often scored highly in.

 That is, if you're even remotely good at multiple choice.

 Since before I can remember (that is to say, since last week), I've had trouble with multiple-choice questions in assessments and exams, with my usually clear sense of judgement and decisiveness blurred by the confounded notion of the "Most Correct Answer". In exams, I've always been able to identify the right answers and the wrong answers, but the actual clarification of the "Most Correct Answer" has never been easy. I tend to mull questions over, unwillingly overanalysing the provided options and consequently befuddling the mind with all sorts of annoyingly plausible arguments for each answer - thus making a relatively easy decision even harder than that between vanilla and chocolate.

 And in case you want to know, if it's ice-cream in question, then Vanilla.
 If not, then without a doubt - Chocolate!

 I've always fared much better in short answer an extended response questions, most probably due to the greater sense of freedom given in the interpretation of information provided, and the lack of painful rigidity present in the evil otherwise known as "Multiple Choice". From a young age, I've always had a certain subconscious and subtle disregard for the learning level restrictions placed in school, and recently, this seems to have developed into an almost unidentifiable tiredness concerning the utter unpermissive nature of the schooling system - both in terms of the expansion of student horizons and broadening of one's mind.  And by that, I don't mean a physical expansion or opening of horizons and minds - that would be both mildly impossible and excruciating painful, in respective order.

 However, if you really insist on doing so, just be careful not to get anything on the carpet. Namely Blood.

 On the topic of horizons and minds, across the vast mass of expanse of vivid blue waters of the Pacific ocean that thankfully separates us from the too-far-gone commercialism of the Americas, a certain Mr. Abel Gonzalez has created a new fair-food that challenges the current, vomit-inducing image of artery-clogging, fat-packing health hazards passed off as snacks to the American (and soon-to-be Australian) public.

Yes, it's the sickeningly sugar-packed "Fried Coke" - A deadly concoction of Coke-flavoured batter-balls deep fried in hot oil, served drenched in Coke-flavoured syrup, icing sugar, whipped cream, chocolate sauce and marachino cherries.

 Like most people, my reaction upon watching "Fried Coke's" proccess of creation was essentially a shock-induced loss-of-appetite, a 5 point surge in my bloodstream's glucose levels and an instant self-diagnosis of type 2 diabetes. As I watched the footage of its transfer from the frying basket to the drainer, and then into dozens of large, clear plastic cups, I couldn't help but feel utterly intimidated by its praise as the "Most creative food" at the Texas State Fair. Upon seeing some more footage in the news story, the image of three young children gobbling down the heart-attacking snack (mind the pun!) instantly conjoured a certain anger towards the utter irresponsibility of Mr. Gonzalez in the actual introduction and merchandising of such a dietary disaster - one that has spread all across the United States through similar shows and events similar to the Texas State Fair. Clearly, Mr. Gonzalez has disregarded all ethical considerations concerning the promotion of dietary health in a society where obesity and heart-disease are regarded as the most common cause of death. It's not suprising that the devil-branded delicacy originates from Texas - which is not only the most overweight state in the United States, but in the entire WORLD.

But hey, the guy's got to make a quick buck - he's not going to pass up an opportunity to sell 25,000 servings of cholesterol-balls just because it's what the whiney bloggers say is the right thing to do, is he?

Unfortunately, not.

 Alright, the unusally political part of this entry is finished.
 You can open your eyes now.

 Seriously, anyone who would even touch Fried Coke must be absolutely crazy - or otherwise, wishing to commit suicide in the most sugary way possible. I know that this might all sound rather hypocritical considering I just made a shameless plug for the BEST FREAKIN' CHOCOLATE SHOP IN THE WORLD (there's another link here for those who missed it the first time), but it's just this overarching clash of money and morality present in this whole "Fried Coke" issue that's got me confuzzled and confused.

 Nathan's dillema concerning his previously unheard of sense of politicism is due to;
a) His newfound aspiration to practise cardiology.
b) The dreaded stress of relearning a whole semester of Geography.
c) His over-reaction to an issue that's probably more comical than immoral.
d) His utter tiredness, lack of Vitamin D and sudden chocolate craving.

Please Choose the MOST Correct Answer.

"Get out your measuring cups, and we'll play a new game,
We can't have the cream - when the crop and the cream are the same."

the-social-bunny.