i've always thought a good regression to your childhood is an effective cure for the blues. right now, all i want to do is stay at home and watch disney movies. classic cartoons like cinderella [yay!], sleeping beauty and the little mermaid. and the lion king is good too.

i suppose its the same logic when slightly psycho people hide in That little corner in their head - seems like a good idea now. i really wish i could forget being 16, taking the O's and other crappy stuff that just contaminate your life with the uber kill-joy factor.

don't you?

i do.

let's all be kids again! read books revolving around watching jack and jane climbing a tree and going on a picnic at a cold dreary beach with their dog spot. school was a mere 3 hours spent colouring playing at horror of horrors, practising your writing.

i can't remember much of my childhood though. it couldn't have been just about watching seseme street and trips to the library. i don't think i played at the playground much, i was pretty anti-social even back then. hmm i remember going to the botanic gardens. i never enjoyed that much other than feeding the swans and ducks.

i had imaginary friends. not that i actually believed in them, i had them because i heard that children my age normally had them and decided to try it out. i'll set up my plastic crockery and have picnics with myself and the air. i would try to imagine said friends but couldn't. i couldn't even try imagining imaginary friends! it just made me feel stupid because i knew that it was just me, myself and i.

sometimes, my cousins would come over, then we'd play school. we even had an attendence list! and we had spelling tests, and i always give nice stars to all my students even when they didn't actually write. scrawls were good too *nods*.

and sometimes i played cook. i'd take remnants and scraps from the kitchen like veggie stalks, mash it up and add 'condiments' like baby oil and talcum powder, wrap it up neatly in brown paper [the kind used when you take-away your food] and give it to my mum, and she'd smile. thinking about it now, she probably grimaced and threw it away the moment i left *snerk*

anyhow, i think its safe to say that it was muchos funner than handling the big O's and biyatch principals.

...............................

hurhur you know when i went back home thoroughly drained from trauma after the biology practical, i took a nap. and i dreamt.

i dreamt that i was in this weird Amazing Race thing with white water rafting [which seemed so fun and real] and going through this crazee wet market. but the mainpoint that dtruck me was the through out the whole dream, i was trying to catchup with my bio teacher, mrs wong.

i would spot her in the crowd and i'll go mrs wong mrs wong waaaait, i need to ask you something aand she'll pause and wait for me to catch up but when i came near her, she would suddenly have to go and i'll be waaaait, i need to ask you something reallly important! mrs wong! but she'd be gone. then i'll see her again and the whole routine repeats and it's just horrible.

talk about surpressed frustrations.

i've been doing a lot of that recently. i think whatever i vent out to people is only a whisper? of the surpressed scream.

i haven't blown up at anybody in a loooong time, that used to help. somebody would tick me off and i'd scream and rage and fume and seethe at said person and afterwards, i would feel all better.except now, if i do blow up, i feel guilty afterwards. so that's no fun either.

find me something fun to do people! cuz i for one can't think of any shiet that will leave me with decent euphoria. but then again, things in life don't usually happen in extremes, it's always the tiring boring mediocrity. so why look for euphoria when it's unlikely?

i'll tell you why, because the possibility is still there! just like there are pots of gold at the end of rainbows and you can marry a prince when the day before, you were sleeping with the ashes.

O HAIL THE OPTIMIST.

am slightly happier now that i've burned a cd of soothing oldies to accompany my mugging.

this morning was traumatizing.

i even came up with a song as a soundtrack:
-sing to the tune of Tomorrow-

the sun won't come up tomorrow!
cuz we we flunked our prelim practicaaals,
now we're dead.

the sun won't come up tomorrow
you can say goodbye to rjc,
there's no hope~

chorus:
we've flunked it!
its all screwed!
why didn't it
change colour?
there was nothing
that we could do!

we kept shaking the thing
stupid test tube
why the hell was it stiiiill bluue?
dumb enzyyymes

we've flunked it!
its all screwed!
why didn't it
change colour?
we'll spend first three months....
slacking awaaaaaaaay

*sighs*

what happened was that we were supposed to time the duration that the different concentrations of enzymes digested the iodine-stained starch solution.

sounds easy enough right?

oho but 10 minutes passed and still NO decolourization at all. in the next 30 minutes, only /some/of us had one test tube decolourizing and geez if that that too half an hour, what about the double triple and quadryple dilutions?? huh huh?

we were all in a silent frenzy, furiously shaking the test-tubes. we asked the teachers in wide-eyed panicky tones why it was taking so long? is this supposed to happen? and she just gave me this benign look and told me to the next experiment.

augh.

the unlucky one re-did this experiment over and over thinking they mixed up the solutions and had no time to do the rest of the paper because they were to caught up in their uh, frenzy.

near the end of the practical, i was so frazzled [like others] and knocked down several containers of liquid, thereby soiling my paper. augh. bio practicals are supposed to be EASY.

later on, amid the panicky exclamations of everybody who were on the same shift as us, a teacher finally came to explain What Had Gone Wrong.

the enzymes had been in the refrigerator and when it was time for us to use it, the bloody protein things had NOT WARMED UP TO USABLE TEMPERATURE.

am not happy. it was uber disastrous. i walked out of the bloody lab stunned.

today, i woke up with heart palpitations.

my first thought was fuck it's morning!

the last thing i remembered was lying in bed waiting for the click of the door closing and therefore, daddy dearest has left the building. i would then be able to stay up as late as possible cramming and finishing the threatening inanimate objects called homework.

• 1 lit essay
• 2 chemistry papers [uber tough ones no less]
• completed art prelims
• malay paper
• and um, random e.math

well, that 'as late as possible' turned out to be 5 minutes [or less, i suppose]. all i recall is visualising the format of my last preliminary studies board for art and the next moment

my mum flicked on the lights and yelled at me to get up.

panic panic panic my heart was hammering from the sudden onslaught of even more stress. it was 6 am and i had done NOTHING at all which meant i could NOT go to school because all the lessons that day required the presence of completed homework. oh no oh dear what what shall i do?

i did not go to school.

it's a beautiful thing when you get to pick and choose which lessons you go to and how you spend your day because hey, we know that when you're at school, you just do not have a choice.

the weather was nice and cool. i spent the morning sitting in my room right in front of the fan doing my art at my nice slow diddly pace. sneaked into school at 1400 for art [avoiding teachers] and learned pottery [extreme beginner's stuff but it was new to me so YAY].

muchos cool. AND i managed to skip a e.math test that i had forgotten about! uber coolness. i haven't had such a pleasant day like this in eons,

thank you. i needed it.

............................

i just read this very vehement anti-Lee post from someone i know.

all i have to say is, why?

i'm not falling for propoganda here, i'm not blindly following the government. its just that honestly, i cannot see the cause of this person's wrath.

i think they have done a fairly good job with our country. not great and there is a LOT of room for improvement but so what. it's not alone in that characteristic.

why are you so wrathful O Angry Idealist?

.........................

i've been spending alot of time in the library.

its Izyanti's Quiet Time.

i've been needing a lot of that recently. my nerves are not frazzled, their frayed and the commotion of people just make it worse sometimes. on the other hand, when i'm alone a lot i risk my tendency to be indulgent and sink into DepressionAbyss.

What To Do When Izyanti Turns Metephorically Blue:

note to Patrick Star:

• do not leave me alone when i'm in a funk. i hate being alone when i'm in that state, i feel abandoned. unless of course, i ask to be alone then that's a different matter =P

note to Everybody:

• please please do not ask me why i'm crying. i hate that. better still, don't acknowledge the salty tracks! this includes the whispering of why is she crying? what happened? did she break-up with her [non-existent] boyfriend?
• buy me candy. sure i could do this myself, but hey that's absolutely less fun.
• do stupid stuff hurhur. i love stupid stuff. besides, i get warped and will then have an even stranger sense of humour ohohohoho.
• send me home in a taxi with my fuzzy green sweater.
• uh, don't put me near a mirror? *snerky snerk*
• kill all annoying people. [hmm. just occured to me that that would include me and most of my buddies. oh well]

What to Do When Izyanti Turns Literally Blue:

• CALL THE AMBULANCE DAMMIT!
• if it calls for cpr, make sure its not a fugly guy. or a fugly girl. ooh-er.
• oh oh and i happen to have a suicide note on me and its uber pathetico, please throw it away. i do not wish to die remembered for painfully angsty writing.
• and make sure i wasn't murdered.

i digress [a lot].

ah yes, libraries. it's just a simple pleasure that i have not experienced in a long time - being surrounded by books in a quiet place with no leg cramp yet and a bag of candy all to myself.

oh whot peace.

all those books waiting to be read. soon my dearies, soon. i used to go to the library twice a week, 4 books a time but that sadly has stopped. the bookworm in me has been resurrected.

yayness after the O's [my life is now on a pre-O's and post-O's calander] i'm going to hog the library and vcd rental shop. it is pathetic that a thought like this fills me with euphoria but it does anyway. so hah!

advanced invite to chaaarmaine nadala2 gennie and co.

- movie marathon, my place! dumdeedumdum! soon!

i have emptied my bladder and am happier.

......................

i have this urge to blog but not much to say.

this is the fourth entry that i've written, the rest were quickly deleted away when i saw the whiny tone it had.

i should probably Write. i have tried, but fear that continuing with the half-baked thing might only serve to add on another item on the Confirmed Incompetent List.

it's been growing that one.

if it helps, i managed to do my bio practical really well today. i finished first yay because the rest were all befuddled by the befuddling instructions [just like the time we were asked to carve up that stick of celery] *beams* haha i rock.

pfft who am i kidding? i do not think there is anything more pathetic than this.

biology practicals.

recently too, i have discovered other imperfections i never knew i had by very helpful friends and a PARENT who pointed them out with much enthusiasm and mirth.

apparently, everybody but me knows that i have sticky-out elbows.

can elbows do anything but stick out? that's what i want to know. i thought mine were perfectly normal but hey, guess not. *nods wisely* you learn something new everyday.

sooner or later, i think someone will come up and tell me, with no offense meant of course, that i have weird [add insignificant body part here] oh haha you mean you never noticed it before?

one day, maybe soon, i will go down to orchard road with an entourage of buff intimidating beefcakes. i shall go up to random strangers and cheerfully impose Izyanti's Let Me Tell You What's Wrong With You service for free. with scathing sarcasm, i shall deliver enlightenment and revel in pleasure to see them crumple on the floor with their equally shattered self-esteem. oh oh what power i shall behold!

and um, if they react with violence, well, that's what the beefcakes are there for.

somehow though, i don't think singaporeans are that mild. if they were not to fling profanities at me, they'll probably glare at me in a mixture of horror/amazement before dismissing me. and you know rejection leaves me all sulky.

it would be an interesting social experiment nontheless.

..........................

i want to rant about something but this being a blog that people actually read, i don't think i shall lest i walk out of the house tomorrow to find people with pitchforks and blazing torches waiting for me.

thing is, i can't tell anybody either but i want to. that's why scribbling in my diary won't work.

solution!

i'll go stand in front of the mirror and have a deep conversation with myself. *nods wisely* you can only count on yourself. hmm. but what if i get annoyed with myself? i'm not very good at ignoring random thoughts in me head.

you know what i need? a random stranger.

someone i've never met and will never meet again. hurhur i need a burden loading bay person. let's see, if someone were to suddenly come up to me and unload their Poor Sad Life Story on me..i would be freaked and annoyed. and i'd tell them off.

aha hence and therefore, i shall find a docile meek person with a hint of intelligence and well, if i end up traumatizing them, heck, ain't mah problem.

or i could just try the wall in my bedroom.

why, how do you do, wall? it's amazing that despite having been with you for a whopping 12 years, i have no idea who you are! tsk tsk, please forgive my habit of ignoring inanimate objects.

so, what's your life story? not much huh, well, a whole lot sure has been happening in mine! just yesterday, something happened that left me horribly and terribly perturbed . . .

etc etc.

....................

on a more happy and irrelevent note, cassandra claire [the muchos best fanfic writer of all fandom] has secured herself an agent! she's writing a YA novel and augh augh i bet it's going to be awesome.

yayness *beams*

you know what's better than caffeine? [heads up aini!]

2 mega multi-vitamin pills and chicken essence.

that's what i had for breakfast -not to mention nutella YUM- and i arrived at school actually in a state of perkiness and brain not caught up in the remnants of somnolence.

which i believe is rather good. after all, fully functioning brain equals to maximum absorbtion of supposedly crucial knowledge which will then ensure me good O Levels grades and yes yes, i'll live happily ever after with a wardrobe full of glass slippers i never wear because they give me blisters and singing mice to entertain me. and of course, the essential Charming toyboy.

oh whot a perfect life i would lead!

but well, you know, not gonna happen. i don't think i could stand another 2 yeara of 'academia' ie. jc. despite all my qualms about mass comm, i think i would suffocate. a friend suggested going to a Hip jc. hurhur, there is no difference buddy when the A's come rolling by. tis all the same, too soon and too similar.

i sense that i am rather incoherent to[night]. i suppose this is because that i am tired and therefore, have reverted back to my usual state of um, living and all the excess vitamin B that i had ingested earlier on has either a) been fully made use of b) been fully peed out.

i don't know. maybe i should stop taking them? but i like the rush, despite the fatigue that comes later on. and it doesnt give the the queasy buzzy feeling too much caffeine gives me.

ah yes. i did quite crappily for my malay O's. merf. a grade lower than what i expected but no matter really. i'm not that affected. what i am annoyed about is that my mother told her friend who told her son and he was like 'she should work harder'.

pfft! it is irrational annoyance i know. i shouldn't be bothered but i am, mainly because i don't think it was Nice of mother dearest to tell her friend. just because i seemingly am non-chalent about it does not mean i want the whole world to know or at the least, make it free knowledge to the gossip/what's-new information network. augh can i say privacy?

ironic that i am ranting this slight discourse on privacy on my online diary but pbbt to that!

why i am writing this i do not know, but i got my hair cut. i am not muchos happy. i would shave it off to spite the world, Eville Hairdressers and yes, myself but fortunately, my family has the sanity to keep sharp pointy hair-altering instruments away from me when i am in a stroppy mood.

aha now i remember why i mentioned this in the first place.

Once upon a time, a silly girl with hair that she was impatient and sick with went to the hairdressers. She went in with half amoosement because the tacky counter lady kept speaking to her in chinese despite the fact that she had repeatedly and tiredly pointed to herself and said malairen [or however you spell it]. then, Lady in horrid black spandex hybrid outfit asks her to wait for half an hour and, so with much stupidty, she does.

time passes and she finally is escorted on to the faux leather seat and is handed a stack of magazines full of photos of doe-eyed japanese 'cute' things/sultry caucasian women. but tis all right, this happens everywhere.

the Scissors-Weilding One appears, and yes, again speaks to her in chinese. she asks her to converse in malay and well, she can't speak malay that much better chinese and does not trust her linguistic skills in this particular languange to handle such a delicate task as Instructions for the Haircut.

the girl calls over her conveniently chinese best friend and entasks her with the very important role of translator. things ought to be fine, no?

absolutely not.

now we have an impatient hairdresser rattling of chinese hieroglyphics, tugging my hair, complaining about how i canNOT cut my hair that way, talking over my head [and i uber HATE this] infuriated because she obviously thinks that they are stupid and should listen to HER because well, look at her hair.

thing is, if i wanted a helmet-headed fringe thing, i would not have bothered. i would have simply simpered up to the principal ie. Herr Hitler and ask her for her hairdresser. no doubt i would have to descend to the the seven levels of hell to get my hair done by her's but pffft

i am digressing.

and as a parting shot before she lfet to blowdry somebody else's hair, she sighs and says, you should go rebond your hair. it would be much nicer then.

so in a huff, i left. if i had stayed, i might have just broken my record for levele of stupidity and patience and honestly, i am not sure which one would have been more awe-inspiring.

so we trooped of to another salon. their nicer to me, and the shampoo girl was nice and chatty without being overly and disturbingly intrusive so that my Social Recluse walls will go up. but ah yes, still, later on, the bloody hairdresser tells me [exact words here], oh you have natural wave. you should go rebond your hair. it will be much nicer then.

oh hey man, thanks a whole friggin lot. in a span of an hour of so, i have been told that my hair texture of all things is a considerably imperfect characteristic and that in the name of pantyhose, i should conform and join the rebonded hair troupe because you bet your gumballs, that is the only nice kind of hair there is!

fucked up narrow-minded people.

next thing you know, i'll start listening to SHE and 5566 and watch trashy Taiwanese variety shows [variety cuz they for hell can't make up their mind what they want] and hey, to make sure i don't ignore my malay ethnicity, i'll transmorgify into a full blown Minah. huh huh? i will track down the Source of all Tapered Pants and subject my ears to the torment of trashy music they call mainstream hip-hop.

pbbbbt!!!!!!

look, i am back safely from the chalet.

the first half was okay i suppose, a semblance of fun that we used to have. what brought it was actually a literal regression of our childhood; we went to the playroom on the pretence of baby-sitting the little ones but oh oh the ball pit was just to tempting. so in we went laughing feeling like we're 10 again and i think hey, maybe it'll be fine after all.

sadly, the next day was near disasterous i think. ah well. if it helps, i somehow managed to take a 5 hour nap! something quite impossible at home with mother who just hates to see me stumbling off to SlumberLand, the selfish woman that she is hurhur.

meanwhile, i am in a general state of un-mirthfulness because of:
a. the impending Exams.
b. the prospect of coming up with decent choreography and making sure they all will be able to 'dance' by next um, tuesday.
c. the monstrosity that singapore idol was.

you know what i want to know?

which strings were pulled or who slept with who so that the bloody radio producer woman was made judge. pfft! pathetic. you were awful..awfully good.

*CRINGE*

it's not that the other judges didn't sound painfully scripted as well but shit, the person who wrote that line should be condemned to an eternity of watching reruns of Living With Lydia, Daddy's Girls or hahaha VR Man.

yeah. that would teach the bugger.
its just that there is something seriously wrong when i'd rather watch spongebob. although i would not be quite sure which to pick if it was CatDog. painfully lame vs. painful?

i was arguing with my father dearest who was in his usual style, defending singapore's incompetency which somehow lead to the topic of he-who-will-be-hung and the media people guilty of leading him into the life of a a media clown. the manipulation that the Eville Creatures took part and it would be very much amusing and not so disturbing to visualise them wearing dark hooded cloaks of heavy black cotton around a fire of a worrying shade of emerald plotting Schemes for World Domination.

and i want to take mass communications?

i am not quite sure whether i want to join this cult or not. first off, hoods are like, total no-nos for hair and geez, who can look good in that shapeless sack of a thing?
haha.
NOT.

the thing is, i definitely forsee compromising of principles and manipulating needed to succeed in the media, whether tv or press. and i don't want to do that.

maybe i'll become a kindergarten teacher. but then again, my short return to the ball pit has reminded me that some kids, like the people belonging to the media cult are just born EVILLE. some kids are just frocking assholes! and see, if they were kids my age, i would have hurled scathing sarcasm or at the least, good ol' profanities and vulgarities. but no, can't do that because of watching (and ironically, oblivious) parents. my restraint was leading to an increase of volume for the voice in my head. it was telling me to kill the nasty little bugger! i honestly felt compelled to sit on him, pin him down and stuff the bloody balls down his trachea. better still, stuff it up his head where there is an obvious cavity.

i hope that kid will grow up fat and ugly and miserable and unloved (easily done).

hence and therefore, i do not have the patience to handle these hell minions and cannot be a kindergarten teacher lest i end up in jail for first degree murder of an underaged youth.

.........................................

yesterday's national day did not [surprise surprise] leave me bursting with patriotic spirit or tearing at the sound of our national anthem. i am proud to say that yes, the latter has happened to me before! oh oh i was standing watching the flag being pulled up the rusty pole and hey, whaddya know? a dust particle decided to take a tour of my eyeball. the goodness of foreign intervention to leave one all patriotic.

doesn't count because it was caused by an external factor? you saying that *gasp* i am NOT patriotic?

well, there was that time i yawned and gee, i weeped! so there.
*snerk*

........................................

ah yes. i've wanted to rant on this for quite sometime.

Supposedly Singapore's [or asia?] Best Blog.

this blogger has been featured repeatedly in the newspapers. recently, in the New Paper i think. if this be true, it is quite expected seeing what is published in Singapore's No. 1 [and ONLY doofus!] Tabloid. If i am mistaken, and it happens to have been in the Straits Times, i am seriously doubting the judgement of the reporter then.

in your duty as a journalist, are you not supposed to be in search of truth and expose and condemn falsehood? *rolls eyes* i suppose someone is not doing his job then, because clearly, said blog is NOT the best in singapore and if said reporter [since that is all that he does - report] thinks that is our standard, well, shame shame SHAME ON YOU.

her's looks like it was written by a 7 year old compared to say, karen's. and no, *wags finger* i am NOT not liking it just because it's pink okaaay.

of course, i am not condemning the blogger. it's not her fault that others are amazingly competent at misjudging. the more disturbing underlying current here is that where has all our talent gone? we KNOW it's here. where art thou where art thou save us quick from the disaster that thy disappearance has condemned us to.

i have returned from my religious classes and if food for thought was literal, well, i'd be too stuffed to eat for the next few days.

the most important thing to note is that I DO NOT LIKE GOING. i wake up in the morning, all draggy feet and intentionally cold showered. then i spend the travelling time unintentionally thinking/wishing for things to crop up so that omg, i don't have to go!

today's Fantasy struck me into a fit of guilt. my mum was driving me and we were going through a junction where this old ah pek was crossing the road when the man turned red [the traffic light, not the old guy] and my mum waved at him to encourage him you can do it! cross the road we believe in you!

i digress.

the thing is, when my mum did so, my brain threw itself into fantasizing what if we had knocked him down, or someone else did? then oh dear, we'd have all this drama and have to send him to the hospital then oh NO i wouldn't have been able to go to class..seriously, i was SO in it i was thinking of us crouching beside him and rushing to the hospital not caring about the blood stains on the seats

and primarily, so i could get out of going. it hit me then.
oh geez, my over-active imagination is a terrible monster. a few minutes later i confessed to my mother what had went through my mind and we had a good laugh, but nonetheless the underlying current is terribly disturbing =
but today's class was different.

i'm not really a deep-in-faith kid of person. i've always thought that religion and your relantionship with god is sacred and therefore, a private thing. hence, not something to be publicized on the internet. but, i will be slightly hypocritical and say that i think today's Difference had something to do with well, god.

the teacher that i loathe did not come today. instead was this sub who was really nice she gave us this non-peppy pep talk that left me thinking. it was disconcertingly uncanny because she said stuff that i was just grumbling to myself about 15 minutes ago.

cut: yesterday, my mum out of nowhere said that hey, maybe with your O's and everything, we could stop your classes for awhile. which is amazing because i've been tryng to get her to do that for eons and trust me, that equals to a hell lot of whining. and there she goes, without any prompting.

so now, considering all the unmentioned factors, i'm starting to think i shouldn't take up my mum's offer and stop the classes. it's only 3 hours a week and it isn't much. and it's my fault that i don't give a shit.

i don't know.

to be honest, i just finished my tuition and the fervour that i started with writing this entry has left. probably dissipated into all the trigo questions.

*sighs* here's another dead-end.

..................................

in a few hours, i'll be in a chalet with all my relatives on my fathers's side at pasir ris.

whee yay whoopidoo!

not.

it's annoying times like this that i suddenly go all panic-eyed Social Recluse. with a huge sense of dread, i know it'll be an intense painfully prolonged period of awkwardity and toilets too small to cope with that large an influx of people without going into a state of ickiness.

yay prodding questions from aunts over my academic results and even worse, love life and BOTH are embarassingly lacking.

yay sitting around with cousins i don't know what to say too so we'll all condemn each other to a loong period of silence and cries of help to other friends via that wonderful invention, handphones.

yay the possibility that they'll all be fine and i'll just condemn myself to being alone, serving only to pique the curiosity of my aunts who will then broaden their Question Topics to include what are you doing? and how come you're by yourself?

oh yeah. cheers all!

i am in pain.
i feel so tired fatigued
i ache
hurts so bad everytime i move
i never knew i could hurt this way




hurhur nope not TeenAngst. i'm being literal this time =]
remind me to make sure everybody stretches next time before we practice for the concert. *winces* it feels like i'be done too many sit-ups and *gasp* my not-so-existent biceps are whining as well!

i blame it on all the dips we were doing. but oh oh its so funnnn. buble in the air and us twirling and dipping. i would love to learn swing dance professionally.

............................

i've noted a certain decrease of quality in my entries recently =\

ah well, not many musings when life starts to revolve around the O's. sorry all! i vow to do something remotely interesting like maybe kidnap a giraffe and ride it down orchard road and scream out hah! hah! i am tall!! bugger you little people!

hello all.

i have started wondering whether i was a Snob. and as much as i hate to admit it, i think there's a significant smudge of it. isn't it snobbery that i drip disdain whenever i talk about mats/minahs/bengs/lians? apart from their truly ludricous characteristics, i suppose they might not actually be so bad right? =
i feel the weight of my karma. it's true, i kinda do diss partly because its just oh-so-Fun. maybe i've been wrong all along?

*recalls ugly incidents involving hostile minahs*

pfft, Naaaaah.

huh, see this is why we'll never attain the beauty pageant ideal - world peace. despite it all, our favourite way of working is still an eye for an eye and hell, we don't really care if we end up blind!

i was watching tv with my mudder and this Mango ad came on, so i was waaaah, i wish i was gorgey like Her! and she patted my head and said, it's okaaay, you're gorgeous inside.

[i think all mothers are programmed to say cliched stuff like that but this not the point of matter here -]

the thing is, i'm NOT gorgeous inside. how can i or anyone say that? certainly and especially not me, thinking back on how i cackled when i found out my two disliked persons -jamie yeo + tata young- were appearing on tv together and were supposed to hate each other. petty bitchiness like that, how imbecilic *snerk*

but anyway my point is, um. we're imperfect. woohoo what an epiphany.

bugger it, i hate it when i launch myself into these bush-beating discourses and end up with a conclusion that i've known all along
: i should have better things to do. like study.

...................

speaking of which, a funny Event in school today!

while lining up to buy what they call 'healthy' food, we saw a friend who for some reason was dressed completely geek-O! we asked her why, and she said she just felt like it. so hurhur we thought oh whot fun! let's have a Geekazoid Revolution! and so, we tucked in our shirts aaaall the way so our skirt bands can be seen [just like dahling mrs. ee wants] and pushed down our glasses to the tips of our noses and started our geek laugh

hur-hur-hur-hyok-hur-hyok-hur-hur.

and we pranced around amid horrified stares and dropped jaws. oh what fun attention-seeking is! later on, we came upon our buddy-teacher and stood in a row of 5 and bowed deeply to her like all teachers crave causing us to erupt in peals of laughter. almost hysterical, we went up the staircase only to find the DM glaring at us, searching for something Wrong with us so that he can give is detention but nooo, he could not do abything despite the ruckus we were making because well, we were specifically following the school rules!

*chortles madly* i love it.

note: we have three teachers who pick on our uniform law-breaking. we have mr. osgodby who is fixated on our 'missing' ie. ankle socks.
mrs. ee [assholic pe nightmare in dreadful track suits and boobs+bum that have surrendered completely to gravity]. she specializes in catching us for 'untucked' shirts and um, coloured bras. the thing we hate about her is that if our shirt looks untucked, she tugs it until it becomes UNtucked and the she'll hurl us to Herr Hitler who is another case entirely!
and there's good ole' tiger, who basically does everything else but we like him anyway cuz he's actually a Nice Guy and is only doing his job because og Herr Hitler [whom he hates too]. unlike the sagEE one, they don's victimise and pick on us =]

i did a very Teenager thing yesterday.

i told my mum i was going out to study, and went to a gig instead. oh oh the GUILT! but maaan, if i hadn't gone, i would have so missed out and was it worth it? absolutely. *sighs* what a dilemma.

standing right in front of the amplifiers and you could just feel the reverbrations in your throat heart belly jeans it was just woah. i wonder whether i looked stupid bobbing swaying and 'head-banging', i probably did. ah well.

the field was all muddy and i was wearing sandals. it was a bit gross at first but i ended up actually liking the slick squishiness of the mud in between the toes. splish splosh splishy splishy splosh.

it was a great place to people-watch. people who were the epitomy of Cool [aaah! i am going to get white/cream hair extentions after the Os] and erlack, we saw this skanky girl. micro skirt, tiny top and stilettos.

anyway the music was awesome. kinda The Vines-ish, a bit of Switchfoot and i hereby pledge my allegience to local bands! it makes me furious thinking of how they're not getting the credit they deserve when manufactured things like tata young [yes i still very much cant stand her] are painfully being broadcasted through all forms of the media. it is simply unfair.
we came while Gloria were playing and afterwards was Sky of Euphoria which was a bit too screamo for my liking and after that was Vertical Rush who were just jaw-dropping.

and not only because of their music.

the lead singer was singing this song he wrote for his girlfriend who was in the crowd and then he paused and asked her to come up on stage. his voice was cracking and he was tearing, he said, "i am just so happy.". there was this tension in the air and nadya and i felt something bubbling under but i thought naah it can't be. it's too perfect for reality but he did.

he went down on his knee and proposed to her.
it was so sweet i nearly died of diabetes. =]

the next band was from KL, Her Reverie and it was uncanny because their sound was this really mellow and sublime..it just fit the mood perfectly. closed eyes, atmosphere bathed in their music and pure happiness for two strangers.

and there was this Beautiful guy. he was, you know. i was actually struck by his profile, deep-set eyes a beautiful nose and this long lopsided grin. i could have just drawn him right there and then. he was this tanned caucasian guy but with a taint of roman-italian facial structure. dark mahogany hair that looked so soft and silky that if he was a girl, he would have his own shampoo ad.

he was beautiful.

but ah well, he didn't seem to have a crazy or quirky personality. he was rather..subdued during the whole thing. haha he was looking our way once, i think he was looking at shi han who's really pretty with great legas and she was wearing this shorT skirt *smirks*

typically, they were like go get his number laah just for the heck of it! but again, typically, i didn't. and i shall explain you why other than the more obvious are you nuts?? i'm not THAT sad!

my theory
we have a population that we can categorize and in this case, we'll use supermarkets.

the low-lifers are found at ECONMinimart and the little shops you get at the void decks. and there are those who belong to the higher-end supermarkets that i don't bother remembering their names for. the minimum will be like, Liberty and Cold Storage.
and the rest of us, we're NTUC hurhur.

Beautiful Guy was on the shelves of unnamed branded supermarket *nods*