One of the earliest life rules I've learned to enforce is that looks can be deceiving, only because as a socially awkward nerd throughout my schooling life, people would had plenty of reasons to always pass me over. It didn't matter that I had something worthwhile to offer, but at that age, looks, or at least what you portray on the outside matter more to people than the person you really are.

So over the years, I connected with those that suffered the same fate. Whether it be people easily judged by their covers or objects shoved into a corner because they looked worn and used, I gave them all a fair chance. In a way, it gave me some sort of solace to know that I'm doing what I can, never doing to others what they have done to me. On the other hand, it's a constant reminder that even today, appearances still do play its part in dancing the social game; and as for someone whose social skills are still lacking, has a slight disadvantage in any situation that involves playing nice to people.

Ultimate, I've learned to live with my awkwardness, still collecting and empathising with those that feel like they have been cast away. It is my own treasure trove of hidden gems. One that I so jealously guard from the prying eyes of those that never appreciated them before. A place I can always return to when I need a reminder that I am not alone, and there is always a deceptive beauty in the things and people we take for granted, waiting for someone to appreciate them for who and what they are.

It should be said that when I asked if there was a Godfather picked out yet, I was only asking in half jest. Now, holding this frail odd thing in my arms, I wonder if they made the right choice to bestow me with that honour. It's not that I doubt my capabilities in taking care of the next generation when my role is called for, but there is also the part of me that can't help but think of every moment and every experience as information for a giant experiment.

Ultimately, my role would probably be down regulated to taking care of the child should the parents want to get away in order to find time to themselves in a world perpetually out of time. I can live with that, even if that means imparting some of my more geeky mannerisms to their child at whatever chance I can get. The rest of the time, all I have to do is to make sure I play my part well by doing my best Marlon Brando impression, and putting a horses head in the bed of whoever bothers the kid.

It's sure to be a hit with the other parents. I think.

I have obsessive compulsive disorder. Thankfully it isn't a condition that debilitates my daily life. In fact, I can go as far as to say that it goes hand in hand with the work that I do. I like things to be neat, ordered, symmetrical and for the most part, germ free. The kind of habit that anyone who works in a laboratory should have to begin with. There is nothing better than a freshly disinfected lab bench, or kitchen top with the same stuff you use to sterilise your lab with.

That doesn't stop be from filling my room with bugs though. If anything, I tend to follow the saying of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. Although, to tell you the truth, it gives a whole new meaning to sleeping with Chlamydia and Gonorrhoea. I've got to stop telling people I do that.

If you can't learn to enjoy good food with people that matter on a day where you're meant to be doing nothing at all, then there is no hope for you. Life's too short to be spent without savouring the little things even if you have your own big plans. It's a perspective that's worth making a point for.

My love for penguins is well known among my peers. The only people that I know who love it as much as I do are my ex and Cas. That being said, we all have our own reasons for loving these cool customers. I love them simply because they are an oddity amongst its own class. Clumsy on land, magnificent in its natural hunting grounds and perhaps one of the most understated animals in the world; if you don't count the fact they are featured exclusively in at least 2 documentaries and several movies to boot. Yet even if you do, some of them are still very much the underdog (underbird?) trying to survive in desolate places where few would dare thread.

All this of course, with their inherent cuteness and their seemingly awkward clumsiness in the public eye gives them the perfect smoke screen and opportunity to slowly take over the world. Well, I for one welcome our tuxedo dressed future overlords. One can only hope that my aspiration and respect for their kind, along with my seemingly endless number of paraphernalia, will spare me from their onslaught on the chosen day. The day the penguins will rise up and claim the world as was rightfully theirs.

The day they finally get their opposable thumbs.