Heebies-jeebies

I am having one of those feelings again. Have I told you I’m going for a camping session associating with the St. John’s Committee? Oh yeah, this might be the millionth time. I forgot(*chuckles*). I haven’t packed my things yet and Shepherd of Judea, I haven’t even collected my self for that upcoming event. Thinking about it already gives me butterflies in the belly, talk about getting ready. Though, I have to be gracious that our preparation for the Indian dance is in the brink of end. It’ll finish in a matter of time(don’t worry mister Kunna Segaran). We have it all turning out fine. But I can’t really assure you how its goin’ ta’ be onstage, in front of a sea of students form Pahang, Penang, Alor Star and Thailand. That spans another whole lot of story. I’ll just leave it in the realms of suspense for a while. Don’t wanna burst the bubble, do we. I’m bringing lots and lots and lots of Maggie in the Cup. Nah, I don’t care even if there’s MSG. It’s better than eating raw food; which I heard to be stored. I even heard rumors that there be three-hours of lecture (on and on or what, I don’t know). That plants a question in my mind whether my ever-throbbing back will leave me alone. Sitting on my dining table and writing this now, is one epitome of times when the excruciating pain strikes. All I can hope for is clean bathrooms (please God, gimme that and I’ll shut up. Screw the dimes), non-creepy bunk-beds and lenient trainers (I swear to be a goody-shoe trainee). And um, if the lecture hours could be pruned to a single hour, I will much appreciate it. And aforesaid, butterflies and doing somersaults again!