I was to meet Hannna at PWTC, for some skater exhibition thingy, to pass her something. She was already inside, and to enter, one had to fork out money, so she came out. It was then that she told me the lickable lovable Jamie (or also known as theZEBRA) was inside! Argh, I would’ve paid to pet the zebra. She came, and she didn’t have to lick me to get me wet. I was already soaked in the heavy rain on the way in. She got us two passes to get in, and we bummed around.

It was time to go to Bangsar LRT to collect money (and meet my van-driving-fetching-momma) but alas! Upon reaching the Masjid Jamek PUTRA LRT station, the gates were half-closed. Technical difficulties, they said. Perhaps it was the tendency of clouds to succumb to gravity again and again this week.

Ah well. I headed back to PWTC, again sneaking in with a pass. Jamie drew a zebra on the back of my left paw. (Knowing the confusion between arm and hand, I chose the word paw instead.) Hannna had one, too. We sniffed the permanent marker fumes in joy. Jamie taught one of the few tricks she knew.

Of course, this was no skateboarding exhibition. This was a kids’ educational exhibition.

What’s depressing? When you’re in secondary school, your educational exhibition consists of walking around, with people projecting your futures for you, selling you papers. What are you going to be? A doctor? Lawyer? What pre-university program are you going to take? Will you go overseas or do a twinning program?

Argh all that gibberish.

When you’re in primary school, your educational exhibition is fun! You get to sit down on colorful stools and play with Lego bricks or whatever’s the constructional craze. You get to solve puzzles. Run about the playground! People don’t sell you stuff; instead, they sell your parents encyclopedias and imitation laptops.

(I still didn’t know how a skatepark got a space at the back of the exhibition.)

Cut to Saturday morning!

I was invited to a surprise birthday party on that night itself, when I was in Midvalley. Complications arose soon enough! The inviter was a friend of the girlfriend of the birthday boy. She (the inviter) had two seats. I was one of them. I asked her if I could bring Shaz, since after all, I figured he’d know the birthday boy better. Alas, she wasn’t sure if he could be accomodated into the plan.

So I called Shaz, asking what his plans were. He didn’t get to narrate till his dinnertime before he had to go and said he’d call me back.

I went shopping for his present, with a lengthy discussion over the phone with miss invitee. I tried a few shirts (he was around my size) but none were fitting the tight criteria.

I called Shaz again. Alas! He had cancelled his dinner plans with his buddies to come and have dinner with me at Midvalley!

I called miss invitee, relating my story. “I know the birthday dude through Shaz, so fit him in pleeease