Football Fever

I've never been much of a sports fan. But I can well understand why it means so much to a lot of people. I am moderately fond of cricket because I'm Indian and any self respecting Indian is supposed to love cricket.

I also quite enjoy watching football, but only with my dad or TPF because all through the match they're always giving me random and not to mention useless factual information about the players. They only do this because they know how much of a sucker I am for useless and random facts. Therefore as you can see, I'm not overly testostrony about football like most of the people I know, but I have to say the World Cup is a completely different issue.

I like football mainly because I get to watch overly cute men running around in shorts for 90 whole minutes. Additionally, I like it because the teams sing their national anthems before every match and that for some reason makes me cry. Superficiality apart, I'm also in it for the sportsmanship, team spirit, also obviously for an opportunity to watch a good game and blah blah blah.

TPF and I had been following the first round of the World Cup rather badly because we were in India when it began. This does not mean that we don't have television in India or that one can't watch football in India, but means that we were invariable not at home when the matches were aired. So we almost missed most of the first few matches, including Italy's first match against Ghana. But we've been religiously following the rest of the World Cup ever since we've gotten back, ahem...well except from the Portugal-Netherlands match because that evening Harry and I thought it would be a good idea to go swimming in the sea at 11 at night without towels when were were staying at her grandparents house near Genova (But that's a different adventure which shall be put up here in due course)

As I said, even though the World Cup fever was not lost on me, I was still unprepared for what I saw last Sunday at the finals. The Italy-Germany semi finals match was great. Michael Ballack (he's the German captain) looked so ahem... hot when he was crying after the match that Germany lost, that I almost want to re-watch that match only to see him crying at the end of it all over again. Alright, I agree, I'm a horrible person, but he is rather pretty.

Sometimes I forget I live in Italy because I'm rather absentminded and not to mention unaware of the world around me. But ever since Italy became the World Cup finalists, the fact that I'm actually living here has been brought to my notice with celebratory screams and these horns that are so loud that you jump every time somebody blows them, around the city for a few days before the actual match.

The frenzy in Milan right before the match was absolutely crazy. There were more than 10 thousand people in the city centre who had come to watch the match on a tiny screen that had been put up there. Most of these 10 thousand people had flags with them, which they found necessary to wave around wildly all the time. This also meant that whatever little one's view was of that tiny screen was completely obstructed.

As you may have already noticed from the picture at the side which was taken by Pan before the match started that she was one of these 10 thousand idiots at the main square along with her dad and TPF. Thankfully we thought it prudent to return home for the second half of the match and watch it like civilized people in front of our flat screen television. This has to be one of the smartest decisions that Pan and her father might have actually made together in their entire lifetime.

Anyways, I did spend most of the second half and the extra time with my head into a cushion on my couch because I just couldn't bear to see what was happening. I was too nervous to watch most of the match. But surprisingly enough I gathered my courage and watched all the penalty kicks. Normally, as a principle I don't watch penalties, but this was with World Cup finals with Italy playing, so I just couldn't have missed that.

My dearest wish for the outcome of the match was wanting Italy to win, but also wanting Zidane (the captain of the French side, who also happens to be my favourite football player in the whole world and mind you, extremely attractive too) to score. And score he did on a penalty kick. Anyways I'm never going to forgive Materazzi for for being an asshole and making Zidane headbutt him. No, nothing anyone says is going to convince me otherwise. Zidane is like Eric Clapton, he's God!

After the match we went out to the main city centre. After all, that was where about 10 thousand people saw the match. By 'we' I mean, Pan's mum, Pan's dad, TPF, TPF's 10 euro Italian flag (which was completely worth it) and your fabulous and extremely modest narrator, Pan. The pictures posted up here are all taken from my Dad's exceedingly old cell phone and so they don't portray even half the atmosphere or emotions in the air before and after the match. Although, you can see from the picture below, there were naked people dancing around in the city's main fountain, which was just plain ewww because I suspect that the water in those fountains is slimy and unclean. For once, even your prissy narrator, Pan looked upon these barbaric people with a fond eye because Italy had won the World Cup after all and certain allowances had to be made for the night. Of course, Pan did get wild when the dirty fountain water was splashed by fat, naked guy on her beautiful shiny tresses reminding her of the wild night where there was a lot of cocktail throwing in the air and her hair had gotten stuck in the cross fire.

It was a great match and Italy deserved to win, not because they were a better team, but because Pan supported them and because they were prettier than the French side.

Back from the Dead with a Big Bang!

Look who's back. It's me, everyone's favourite drama queen back from the dead, although I wasn't exactly dead; so the title of my post sounds rather silly, but I've always wanted to use that phrase at least once in my life and right now seemed to be an opportune moment.

So at this moment the reader might be wondering where the heck has Pan been for so long. My answer to that question would be a shameful 'here and there'. Alright, I admit it, I've been guilty of procrastination and haven't been on any website apart from my email and mugglenet for more than a month now. Although, I have been busy doing other things like attending various 'social events' (in normal teenage terminology 'social events' means decadent, debauched, alcohol ridden parties). Additionally, there was the Graduation Day ceremony last week where Pan almost tripped on the flag of her own country because she couldn't control the sari that TPF had forced her to wear. Pan was also forced by mean teacher to give a speech and be a model nerdy student, which she certainly is, to a bunch of parents, most of whom don't understand a word of English on Graduation Day. And how can I not mention the fateful and depressing thing called examination results that we got a few days ago.

I can never make up my mind about examination results. They always depress me for some strange reason however well or badly I may have done in them. Maybe it could be because there is so much hype building up before the marks are given out, one can't help but feel a bit let down when one finally gets them after a long wait.

Results aside what else has Pan been doing because it has been almost a month since she came back from India. Well, I can't resist it anymore, I have to bring the second part of the post title into motion. Last night, Pan and TPF went to the Rolling Stones concert. It was their first concert in Europe of their 'A Bigger Bang' tour. The concert began at nine in the evening but Pan and TPF were there since seven listening to crappy introducing band (called Feeder) and socialising with creepy, old man next to us. Alright, I'm lying here. TPF was the one talking to old man next to us, while Pan just looked the other way and pretended that she doesn't understand Italian and know either of them.

No, we didn't see Mick from that close. That's ahem... the picture of the screen. We did have the cheapest tickets (which were not cheap under any circumstances, we bought them for 50 euro), so we were the furthermost away from the stage. There were about 60 thousand people there, so one can only imagine how full the stadium was. Needless to say, the concert was fabulous. It involved the most varied age group of people I've ever seen. There were people from age 16 to age 70. I am now the proud owner of a Rolling Stones t-shirt and a band poster. Of all the strangest people to bump into at a concert with 60 thousand people, we bumped into Mags and her sister (Hopefully some of you might remember TPF's friend and drug addict extraordinaire, Mags who has made several drunk appearances on TPF's blog)

Pan almost cried when Mick sang, 'I can get no satisfaction'. It was also the exact moment of her life that Pan realized that she was born in the wrong times. Pan's not meant for the 21st century, but for the good ol' sixties and seventies. I mean, if I was 18 in the sixties I wouldn't be sitting in front of a computer updating my blog. Pan from the sixties would have been half way around the globe on a trek to Katmandu listening to Cream cassettes on her cool, new walkman. But no, she's dumped against her wishes into the 21st century, where she is forced to listen to Cream and The Rolling Stones on her ipod instead.

But as usual I digress. Coming back to the concert, Mick Jagger looks as hot as ever. My god, he's in his sixties and I'm crushing on him, I should really stop. Keith Richards looks like he's going to drop dead any second. TPF and I were really afraid that we were going to be a witness to Keith Richards' death. I also have a minor crush on Keith, which is just plain scary, and so I don't like thinking about it. On top of it all, we also saw Materazzi and Del Piero at the concert (to all those ignorant people who don't know who I'm talking about, they are famous Italian football players). This just reminds me of the subject of my next post which is going to be football. As everyone may know, Italy just won the World Cup last week. (If you didn't know this, please stop reading my blog right now and go and get an update on current world news).

So there you go, you've just got an update on Pan's social life. It is rather strange that after a four year slump my social life has been on an all time high these days. But after all this is the longest holiday I'm ever going to have in my life unless I'm unemployed in the future, so I might as well enjoy myself. Although I must admit, it feels odd to be happy all the time. I mean, I'm one of those teen angsting people who gets depressed and morose rather easily. Poor TPF, you should ask her about it because she's the one who has to put up with my mood swings. Although, we are married and everything, so I'm not sure if I'm supposed to feel guilty about it. But as I said, it's been really great these days. I shall post the photos of our Bombay pictures next week, so that everyone has something to look forward to.

Blogging in the Rain - Another Joint Post

After the overwhelming response they got from their beloved fans, Pan and TPF have decided to grace you all with another gem from your favourite teenage bloggers.

In the past few days they have been busy shopping.

Yes, that's right, folks. TPF has never been to India before and instead of sightseeing, she has been keeping herself busy by trying to buy away half the city. Pan, who on the other hand was born in Bombay, is buying the other half.

Today, Pan and TPF bought 12 pairs of earrings, not to mention a ring, for less than 6 Euros. The street vendor thought that he was ripping Pan and TPF off but in reality, what the poor street vendor doesn't know is that Pan and TPF were the ones who had the upper hand in the transaction. They're evil and they love it! [Also, they love exploiting cheap labour]

TPF ruined Pan's morning the other day because she randomly pretended to be sick. The reason for this is that she is an attention-seeking brat. To this day, the reasons for her random 'condition' remain one of the biggest mysteries of mankind. Suffice it to say that once Pan forcibly dragged her to a shopping mall, TPF immediately got better.

[This is all Pan's fabrication. TPF was truly feeling unwell.]

Well, we all know who just typed that out!

The monsoon has officially arrived in Bombay. This was testified to by the copious wading through ankle-deep water under a flimsy, Milanese and shared chatri* that Pan and TPF engaged in this evening.

This of course was nothing compared to the walking around barefoot in a damp-floored temple that TPF had to endure for the sake of cultural awareness. Yes, friends, our darling TPF was seen BAREFOOT in a damp, fungus-ridden public space. Behold the flying pigs.

Pan and TPF cooked. Together. It was ugly. It was bitter. It was war!

Enough said on that.

Throughout all this, Pan and TPF have fallen victim to the infamous leer. The characteristics of this leer include:

1) bared teeth

2) perverted sneer

3) traces of drool

4) dirty mumblings in Marathi

5) touching of private areas, including but not limited to 'the tool' or the 'the wand', as it is known in the wizarding world

Of course, Pan and TPF are hardly blameless in this situation, being the uber-hot chicks that they are. Also, TPF happens to be rather pale compared to the average Mumbaite, and Pan favours clothing that enhances her naturally prominent assets.

Wait till Eris joins them. She's bald, for God's sake.

So for now, TPF and Pan once again leave the blogosphere and hope that you will all survive for a couple of days without their riveting posts, although from the astounding amount of comments they have received on their last entry, it seems as if you shall all live.

*umbrella

Bombay Blogging - A Joint Post

Hello, imaginary following. Today, Pan and TPF shall be joining their already immense wits to create one fun-fest of a post! Buckle up!

We are in Bombay, as you can tell by the title, and we're posting together, as you can also tell by the title (and by the fact that the same post is in both our blogs). We are also fighting over the keyboard, an activity which is definitely in line with our usual bickering and childish banter.

No, we are not married. But thanks for asking.

Moving on.

We have already taken some funny photos which shall be posted as soon as we get back to Italy. Meanwhile, we shall tell you what's been going on for the last two days.

The flight was mostly uneventful, except for Pan's mispronounciation of German (we were flying Austrian Air). You see, she kept pronouncing 'flug' as if it rhymed with 'plug', when the 'u' is actually supposed to be pronounced as something like the the double 'o'in 'book'. Also, TPF mocked Pan for her sentimentalism, which was very very mean of her. Pan sulked and TPF apologized and everything was fine again. We watched a Hindi movie with subtitles - Bluff Master on the plane and marvelled at the uber-cool headphones, which the plane people were kind enough to supply. We also had a Britney Spears marathon on our iPod which was rather cool.

At the airport, Pan got paranoid about our luggage not coming thorugh. Luckily, TPF was there to save the day and make sure Pan didn't hyperventilate. Pan's friends came all the way to the airport to say hi to her, which made her feel like a horrible friend (which she is).

We eventually got home and survived thanks to the aid of ceiling fans. It's pretty hot and humid here, kind of like Turkish summers, which makes TPF feel at home and Pan feel sticky with perspiration. Because women don't sweat, they perspire.

Yesterday, we went out for a walk with a friend of Pan's. Apparently, Pan sucks at road crossing. TPF saved her life numerous times (you can probably tell by now that TPF's writing most of this post whilst Pan is busy twirling her thumbs and talking to her aunt). By the way, did you know that Pan is an auntie? Her cousin has a two and a half year old son called Gops (well, not really. It's a nickname). Gops loves his auntie Pan, but not his auntie Pan's friend, TPF (he can join the bloody club). In fact, Gops thinks TPF is auntie Pan's mummy. Which is very flattering to TPF. Really.

We shall do another one of these joint posts very soon to keep you all in touch with your uber-cool teenaged bloggers. You are advised to leave comments on both blogs, otherwise you may cause discontent and more bickering and we already do enough of that without your help.

Thank you and goodbye!

A trip away from er...home(?)

I'm leaving for India tomorrow morning, well that on this Saturday for people living in different time zones, for just about three weeks. TPF is going to be accompanying me along with Harry who is going to join us on the 5th of June and we're coming back on the 17th of June, just in time for our Graduation Ceremony and Prom.

I was rather excited about the trip until about today because I haven't visited India for about two and a half years now. The last time I was there, it was for my grandfather's funeral, so I guess, it wasn't the best of vaccations. But now that I'm actually leaving tomorrow, I've just realized that I'm terrified and maybe a little apprehensive about the whole trip. I'm terrified to see how different the place is going to from what I was used to, I'm also terrified about how different I am going to be than what I was used to when I was there. I always assumed that once you've spent fourteen years in a place, it ends up becoming a part of your life, but my memories of home there are very blurry, for some reason. All my childhood just seems like a blur of memories and I can hardly remember the details.

The whole trip also made me think of Frankengirl's wonderful post on home that struck a deep chord on my mind. Ever since I was a child, my home had always been Bombay. I don't think my vision of life went beyond the city. I was born there and I always thought my life would end there. I had lived in the same house all my life, until I moved to Italy. So whenever anyone mentioned the word home to me, it always meant our house in Bombay because that's where my heart was. But now I have realized that Bombay is no longer home and it will never be home. Home is here, here in Milan where I presently live, where all my friends are, where my family is and that is what makes it home. It is not the physical house of brick and stone that I had lived in for fourteen years. I've been living here for only four years now and this is my home and I'm sure as time passes that will change, I'll find other places that I'd like to call home depending where I feel the most comfortable.

So my fear arises from the fact that I'm just going to be like any other tourist visiting Bombay for the first time. I don't want to be just a tourist. But oddly enough that is exactly what I'm going to be. I have to admit that in the end, I know we're going to have a great time. It is also the last summer I will probably spend with my friends because we're all off to university in a month's time in different countries, in different continents and so of course we're going to lead completely different lives and who knows where that's going to lead us. Therefore, I'm going to make sure that we have a wonderful time :)

PS: I might be away for a while becuase my aunt's house where we're going to be staying has a dial up connection and you can imagine how slow that is. Also, I don't know whether I'll have a lot of time to actually be on the computer, but I'll try post as soon as I get a bit of free time.

The Holiday Commandments

Squeeeeeeal! I'm sorry I completely apologize for the random squealing I am going to do all through this post, but unfortunately I cannot stop my self. They are finally over. I can't even make myself repeat the 'E' word again, so from now on the 'E' word is going to be known as, well the 'E' word. Although, I must admit, the last day of school was rather anticlimactic. I was expecting the heavens to do something sensational to celebrate my end of the year, but nothing of that sort happened. I didn't do anything special apart from eating lunch at Burger King, watching The Da Vinci Code that TPF has so wonderfully reviewed, getting foot blisters and limping home because of my sandals and washing the dishes of course.

My mother ended my short lived 'end of school' happiness.

Pan: 'Squeeeeeeal, My exams are over'

Mum: 'Oh great, now you can do the dishes tonight'

Pan: 'But, but... mother - '

(silence, mother has already left the room)

I have decided to make use of my time and come up with 'The Holiday Commandments' which I dogmatically plan to follow:

1. Thou shalt read at least one decent book a week.
2. Thou shalt watch at least one movie a day regardless of its language, rating or content.
3. Thou shalt move thy lazy arse and do something useful in the house by helping mum with housework and not sit whinging about the unfairness of the situation.
4. Thou shalt learn the basics of cooking.
5. Thou shalt spend unhealthy amount of time reading fanfiction on the internet without feeling guilty about it.
6. Thou shalt not succumb to peer pressure and go out in the sun and get an unhealthy tan.
7. Thou shalt eat at least one ice-cream every three days without worrying about thy weight.
8. Thou shalt not under any circumstances obsessively wonder about how thou hast done in thy examinations.
9. Thou shalt clear up thy books/files/notes/university prospectus/stationary that are lying around the house for the last two years and organize old files neatly.
10. Thou shalt watch crappy sit-coms re-runs on television and waste time watching the E Entertainment channel without wondering how pathetic thy life is.

And one more, since I like prime numbers...

11. Thou shalt not, I repeat not, get intoxicated before prom in any of the outings thou maketh with thy trashy friends..

There you go. My holiday commandments are done. I'm going to be a good person this summer.

A Tribute to my Fantasy Friends

Since I've been using the same route and public transport to go to school and back for the last four years at the same timings each morning, it is only natural that I've been seeing some other people who have been doing the same for a few years.

I've always been a hopeless ball of fluff. As I've mentioned somewhere previously, I'm the most pathetically romantic person I know. I guess, it must be something to do with the fact I'm an only child and therefore I'm quite used to retreating into my own world and making up fantasy worlds to live in.

It was my favorite hobby as a child. Both my parents worked, so I was quite used to being on my own for long hours. I don't think it was loneliness that brought out my romantic nature, but just a lot of free time. I didn't have the same problems as most of my other friends with siblings which involved fighting for books, toys, television channels and any other thing that one can imagine. Hence, what I absolutely adored doing was sitting on the window ledge of my house, observing people walking on the street in the evenings and thinking about them and their probable lives to a great extent.

My secret pleasure in this little game was that these people who meant so much to me in my imaginary world didn't have any idea that I existed. Most of them had not even noticed a child sitting on a window ledge looking at them going home after a busy day at work or a trip to the market. It was a source of comfort to love these people who didn't know me at all. It also made me wonder whether there actually were other people in the world whose imaginary worlds revolved around me. I know it sounds far fetched now and rather silly, but at that time it made a lot sense in convoluted mind.

I've gotten into this same bad habit for these last few years. This is because of the fact that I keep seeing the same people each morning in the bus. I happen to be rather fond of them, however much some of them might appeal to me or even repulse me to a certain extent.

One of them is a young man. He is a professional from what I know because he wears a suit and a tie to work every day, but this probably has to be his first job because he is rather young. What I adore about him is his green coat, his meticulously combed hair and the way in which he clutches on to his laptop as if its the only thing that matters in his life and he would probably be willing to give his life up in order to save it. He has not only been taking the bus with me for the last three years, but also the metro in the same direction. He probably does not even know that I exist and even if he did know that I existed, he surely is not aware about the fact that I take such a great interest in his life.

Then there is this woman in her late forties who has two adopted children who I see almost every day. One of the kid is about five and the other one is about eight and she takes them to school each morning. I'm not going to talk about how annoying or spoilt those children are, but about the fact that I've never seen any mother in my entire life who loves her children as much as that woman loves her two boys. She doesn't consciously do anything special to show her love for them, but the way in which she looks at them or holds their hands while helping them climb onto the bus or even the manner in which she speaks to them shows how much they mean to her. It just makes me randomly feel like sniffling every time I see her. Sometimes, their father drops them to school and he's really sweet with them too. Those are my favorite 'bus people' and they always make my day every time I happen to see them in the mornings.

Then there is this old woman who goes somewhere every morning. I can't make out where exactly she goes. She's too old to work and looks like a retired, old grandmother, but she's been taking the same bus each morning for the last four years, which means that she is doing something and I can't understand what. This old woman is also the fastest and the most enthusiastic book reader I've ever seen in my entire life. I read quite fast myself and I've not met too many people who read fast in my life, but this woman has a new book every week or sometimes in even less than a week. There has not been a single day when she hasn't travelled without reading and I must admit, I'm rather jealous about her ardent book reading enthusiasm. (hmph, I don't like her taste in books, which automatically according to my deeply prejudiced nature is supposed to mean that I don't like her. I refuse to respect anyone who has read the book, Deception Point because that probably means that they actually liked The Da Vinci Code and Angles and Demons enough to read other Dan Brown books. He has a three-letter name, you're not supposed to read books written by people whose parents were not imaginative enough to give their children names that consist of more than three alphabets and ...er... no offence to anyone reading this who does have a three-letter real name unless you name is Bob, in that case umm... yeah... you can get offended)

There are so many other people that I see every day; an old couple with a crabby wife who is so authoritative and irritating that I feel rather sorry for her husband who seems like a nice person, an irritatingly, friendly woman who likes making random friends with other bus passengers and does not brush her hair, this other woman this put a cigarette in her mouth a stop before she has to get off the bus and lights it as soon as she steps off, a lady with the thick, fur coat that must have killed polar bear, the boy who is always late to school and goes to school with a motorcycle helmet for some unfathomable reason, the silly girl who goes to school with a different bag each day and not to mention the creepy guy who took pictures of me on his mobile phone last year.

There are so many people who have made an impact to my life by just existing and not doing anything special. Most of them don't even know that I actually exist. For some reason this thought would be rather depressing for most people, but I feel strangely comforted by it because I like being the anonymous observer. I'm not going to be here next year to observe them and I doubt that they will notice my absence but I, on my part am definitely going to miss them.

Guess Who's Back?

Clichéd post titles apart, I'm officially out from blog retirement. But my exams are not over yet, I still have exactly 10 whole days, 5 exam papers and 2 full subjects to complete before they do actually get over, but I have finished most of them. Before I actually begin this post, I have to warn people reading this that this post is absolutely subjectless and consists solely of my random ramblings.

The last two weeks have been filled with odd sleeping and food habits, exam pressure and not to mention bad hair. (I always have bad hair during exams, it's some kind of condition that I'm forced to suffer with) I have actual dark circles below my eyes, my first dark circles. I'm not to sure whether to be proud that I'm an adult now because I have dark circles or get wound up like most people about them. I think, I'll wait a few more years before they start worrying me.

I'm not a very 'sitting up late night to study' person. My eye-lids start drooping as soon as the clock touches 11.00 p.m and I just can't keep myself awake, however desperate my exam preparation is. Now because of this terrible 'early to bed' habit I'm forced to set the alarm early in the morning. The problem with alarms is that I have to set the alarm at least an hour in advance in order to get up at a particular time. (The person who invented the 'snooze' button on alarm clocks should win a Noble prize). As a result, I've been setting my alarm at 3.15 - 3.30 a.m in the morning to be up by 4.00 to study the things I haven't finished the morning before the exam for the last two days. This 'early morning getting up' thing has got me into a 'napping in the afternoons' habit. I love afternoon naps. Aren't they the bestest thing ever? (For people who are mentally correcting my bad grammar, I'm quite aware that 'bestest' isn't a word, and that doesn't stop me from using it.) I know, I'm getting into my grandma's habits of going to bed early, rising early in the morning and having afternoon naps.

My desperate examination situation makes me wonder what the hell was I exactly doing for a month of study leave before the exams began. I can't say I didn't know that it was going to be like this. I knew exactly what I would be in for, if I didn't revise properly before the exams, but now I just feel like an idiot. Knowing me, I am well aware that even if I did have a time-turner, like the ones they use in badly written Harry Potter fanfiction, I would have still not revised properly because apart from several other things I also happen to be the queen of procrastination.

I can't believe I'm almost two thirds done with the IB. It used to feel like it was going to last forever and now I'm almost done with it. Suddenly my whole world seems quite empty right now. I remember the psycological torture we had to undergo before we actually started the course with lectures from teachers which went like quote, "You think you're going to do well, but you're all going to fail." unquote.

Under these warnings our disillusioned selves began this course two years ago and I have to agree with most people in my grade. Yep, they've been hell alright, but I guess the satisfaction one derives from doing courses like the IB is that you actually feel well versed in your fields of knowledge and that makes it worth it. It's nice to feel intelligent, isn't it? One doesn't get that feeling too often these days.

My bladder has been running out of bounds these days. I'm sure not too many people over here do care or are interested in my urinary habits, but I shall mention them in any case. I'm telling you, it's gotten out of control. Like today, I had a two hour, writing intensive Economics exam and after an hour, I had to pee and not just pee, pee badly. But I was forced to sit there for another hour and continue writing wildly, while pretending that my bladder was not going to burst out any second. This was when I went to the bathroom right before the paper. I'm not even going to start discussing both my English papers, when I actually forgot to go to the bathroom before the exam began.