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*

i hate to admit it, but it is true and i can no longer deny the niggling truth.

we, iPod Lusters are victims of superb advertising and marketing. *sighs* it pains me everytime somebody brings to light the significant flaws and lackings of that byootiful white cuboid.

..not unlike mcD, i suppose. or fastfood in general; which i would like to point out does NOT include icky kfc. the food isnt great, you can get better at a hawker centre/food court for around the same price but no - we herd to the familiar comforts.

you see, food courts and hawker centers do not offer free toys to easily bribed tots. and the fact that before the birth of foodcourts, the latter was a nightmare of either sticky or slippery [but always dirty] floor and toilets that are the subject of of horror stories. the smell the smell! and erk, unidentifiable brown sludge! -let's not even talk about the loos in wet markets- and the heavy, thick humidity that descends during lunchtime and the unpredictable quality of the food there.

we have been conditioned to accept fastfood.

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

chemistry practicals are very amusing. or was, before we had to take them seriously because of the O's of course.

 

especially the precipitate tests.

 

ooh bubbles. pretty.

wait - gas! gas! *jams the mouth of the test tube with thumb*

splint splint, where's that frocking thing??

*sticks the Glowing splint into said test tube, crestfallen as nothing happens* relight damn you RELIGHT. 

 

you know what's worse? when the litmus paper falls in and instead of the nice azure blue, it turns pukey-brown.

 

or hurhur, worse, during one titration practical, the technicians confused X and Y resulting in a whole lotta chaos as we vigourously shake the flasks wondering it REALLY should turn pink be now and later on, a general state of blurness as we stare at two containers of X/Y wondering which should go where and eventually falling back onto the time-trusted method of making decisions; 'eeny-meeney-miney-moe'

 

we scrapped the entire practical that day *beams*

 

and PE is even more..traumatizing.

sadly and embarrassingly, i have this underlying phobia of flying balls. i don't mind being tackled, pushed to the floor or elbowed in the ribs but augh, propelling balls!

 

so anyway, i normally have this fear in control, maging to play an active role sorta during games. but a recent incident has erased any form of decent competency resulting in me regressing to the pathetic state that i was a few years back.

 

we were playing captain ball which is basically a game with no rules whatsoever lol. this makes it fun because the lack of rules allow a lotspace for absolutely comic scenes of ball-grabbing and struggles, and strangely, it was a co-ed game we were playing.

so there's this guy whose habit is to throw the frocking ball full-force but with NO AIM at all. thrice in the span of 15 minutes, he had managed to throw the Thing over the fence, leaving us groaning/eye-rolling.

 

some time later, i was busy laughing at something i just saw when WHOMPH. the ball had slammed straight into my face, i think i only managed to squeeze out an erk!

 

it hurt like fuck okaaay especially since i was wearing glasses. =P i stood there with my eyes squeezed shut because it just hurt so much to even try open them and tears were actually running down my face!

it really was a funny sight, i imagine. me ow ow ow-ing in a completely deadpan voice with tears running down my cheeks.

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

my english common test essay:

The most boring day of my life

My neck had a painful crick in it, the result of having been too long in bed trying to sleep away my fever. The constant naps i had taken for the past few days left the distinction between night and day, Monday and Friday, disconcertingly and confusingly blurred.

There was a full-scale microscopic war battling in me, a fight to the death between the Evile Foreign Pathogens and my white blood cells [equipped with Amazing Engulfing powers]! At least, that's what the remnants of last week's biology lesson offered me.

I was sick.

Physically sick, but also sick with boredom.

I was now in the stage where the horrid effects of said germs no longer left me blissfully, deliriously, half-conscious.

I was on the uncomfortable and hence, detestable road to recovery; horribly aware of my migraine and the thin sheen of sticky-sweat on places i did not know had sweat glands.
Aware of how every time i tried to read a book to defeat the boredom that was slowly conquering my every cell, my eyes burned and seared although i could not think of a scientifically logical reason why my eyeballs were behaving so.
Aware of how everytime i closed my eyes for another nap, my eyes felt swollen, too big for their sockets. And so, i would have to toss and turn, lulled by my creaking fan, nesting in my sweat-dampened bed linen falling into a fitful slumber and slightly disturbing dreams.

No doubt the effect of the unfamiliar chemicals running through my bloodstream. i gazed at the ceiling. There can only be so many times one can try to count the azure dots of paint spattered on it. For texture, the interior decorator said. Oh i roll my eyes in disdain.

At the last count though, of someone out there is even interested to know, it's 376. That was as far as i got before spinning out dizzily into medicine-induced sleep.

i sat up to whomp my pillow into its original state of puffiness and for a nanosecond, the world seems to have been thrown off its axis, catapulting me into a sickening combination of nausea and light-headedness.

i groaned. i really wished those blasted germs would hurry up and die. i wonder whether they had a colective mind, planning diabolical schemes of invading unknowing and unsuspecting people, essentially robbing them of precious time that could have been spent doing anything but this.

Pictures of Hitler-esque amoeba sprung to mind, as i conjured up images of an amoeba legion marching and singing war songs with gusto - we will break down the mucus membranes! create globs of phlegm and thundering migraines too!

wait - do amoeba have mouths?

This sudden spurt of thought with a semblance of logic stopped me in my delirious tracks. i giggled at me ludicrous behaviour, and then am alarmed by my amusement.

Throwing off my blanket, i lay spread-eagled on my bed. So this is what boredom does to you. Slowly, like guerilla forces in the velvety darkness of the night, it creeps up to you, corrupting every shred of logical thought until you either become stark raving mad or evolve - no, degenerate into an empty husk of what you were.

Headline news! Girl found catatonic; Boredom burns away her soul and intelligence (not that she had much of that)! Imagine that in the newspapers - what a laugh indeed.

And so, slowly i lay there, rotting away not because of the violating germs, but out of sheer boredom. An evanescence of logic evaporating into smoky wisps before dissipating completely.

I would rather be in maths class, i think. i gasped as i fully grasp how telling of my state of sanity my prior statement was.

boredom may really be killing me.

 

*hurhur what a load of rambling junk. ye olde suzie was not amused though but i don't care! dumdeedeedumdum, stupid common test, stupid essay. am so sick of writing Predictable and therefore more-Proper compositions.

 

i do like being bored sometimes.
it results in rather....interesting things.
 
for example, on sunday during religious class, i discovered that the walls are the same colour as masking tape. *impressed* how about that? now here comes the Big Question of course: which came first, the masking tape dye or wall paint?
 
and today, oh oh today.
today's resulted in a a number of male butts being pinched much to mah amoosement and the owners' horror. nadya nadya nadya. hurhur, go rate the different butts on my tagboard =]
__________________________________
 
i heard on the radio yesterday, WKRZ i think [don't ask.], and i heard the news segment and the dj was saying something about how the french government have 'advised' their jewish population to MIGRATE to israel in view of the recent rise of anti-semitism sentiment.
 
can someone confirm this news with me?
 
cuz if this happens to be actually True, than i am very shocked. it seems almost surreal; such a drastic measure. another exodus.
sounds like one of the post-apocalyptic, incredulous fiction novels i'm wont to read. if things continue this way in the future, can you imagine what might happen? 'colour'ed people and/or any religion that is not christian-based expelled from their country to ease the tension that their presence causes.
 
how ridiculous is that? very, i tell you.
 
this is why, once again, i say - annihilate humanity and let the amoeba [amoebi?] take over!
 
till then, we'll have to deal with reading the newspaper saying how unwise it was for the philippines to think about their fellow filipino who could oh so likely end up with the same fate as the chickens you see hanging at the hawkers -
 
oh No you shouldn't have done that p, tutted the Big Kahuna, see - now the buggers will think that you guys DO care about hostage's life and will now use it against us all!
 
b-but, phili stammered, it's not that we wanted to disappoint you..really, we didn't mean it that way! it wasn't that we were fed up with you pushing us around and th-then, when you're in deep shit, you ask us to pull you out a-and in the process, you pull us in the cesspool too! it's just that we CARE about our citizens.
 
big kahuna smirks.
 
chewing her lip, phili admits: okaaaay, so it's also because it's the overseas citizens who bring the biggest piece of bacon home. but still!
 
phili and big kahuna sip their mocha frapp, contemplating the mess they were in. what to do what to do?
 
after all, Big K ponders, the korean brouhaha was really such a bother. tsk, expected them asians to be more stoic..especially after watching the last samurai, i would expect them to be more prepared to make sacrifices to rid the world of terrorism.
 
sir, that was in japan sir, phili interjects, hiding her smirk in the frozen peaks in her cup.
 

yeah yeah sushi kimchi, Big K drawls, same difference! yellow is, as yellow does.

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

well, i really am perturbed at the whole matter.

 

honestly, i cheered over my cup of milo when i read the headlines that morning. my immediate response was: thank god. a governent that won't be bullied.

 

i recognized the irony of that statement now of course.

i had a niggling doubt over the RightValue of their decision but pushed it away to cope with the dread that a horrid day of school oft gave me.

 

and now. and now, i don't know what to think.

 

again, [it's been happening a lot recently] its a fight between idealism and pragmatism. i just really wish in my idealism that the terrorists will keep their word but i feel bitter articulating this in my head because i know that all eville villains often don't.

and even of they do, they'll know their tactic works. and the violence continues.

 

it's terrible, really. why why why do we want to bring children into this world. is there much that can compensate for the sheer ugliness so prevalent today?

 

and for the love of pantyhose, you can't consistently count on hope blue skies and fluffy clouds. you can't.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

what say you?

 
 
 
 

entry No. 222!
 
applause and cheers all, i'm not sure of the significance of this numeral alliteration[?] but i'm just making a point of this one cuz i missed out on doing so for the 200th entry.
 
so go on, tag like crazy to this inanimate, digital representation of izyanti.
 
you'd be interested to know [or not] that if you google my full name, hurhur, my name comes up third for the CAP thing in the skule webbie and later on in bern's and kass's blog. but none for me cuz my archives have gone nutso-kookoo, very much like everything electronic and gadgety in my life recently.
_____________________________________________
recently during malay class, my teacher came into class with a woeful face. now he's generally a nice guy but can be irritatingly zealous in his opinions on religion and political conspiracies and more often than not, lacking logic as well.
 
and times like these, i never find myself agreeing with him so usually i do the Smart and Wise thing and shut up, occasionally nodding in a non-statement way.
 
well, too bad. i was cranky that day.
 
that day's Topic was the video of the Korean guy who got beheaded. he was all pitiful and sorrow, saying "have you seen the video? it's so horrible...it was terrible..[you get the gist]" which is all fine and generally Normal.
 
then he suddenly perks up, with this like, morbid energy and asks us in a serious and somber tone, "do you want to see it? i can show you, it's on the computer. or maybe i'll send it to your e-mail."
 
which of course, got me riled up. it just screams the media's exploitation of such a horrid event, does it not? so i told him that out of respect towards the victim and his family, it shouldn't be used for one's morbid entertainment.
 
he then predictably went into denial citing painful statements like They Have The Right To Know and It Happened, We Must Know What's Going On In Today's World.
 
well, excuse me. i think someone forgot to read the memo reminding people of the fine line between actual news and sick entertainment, and told him as much in more polite terms of course. c'mon, the website he got the video from confirms the sick nature of it all - freak(something).com

 

the Germans have a word for this morbid fascination: Schadenfreude, the very human pleasure taken from seeing other's suffering.

seriously, would you like it if you knew thousands of complete strangers are playing the video of your son's death over and over again? incessantly and more terribly, needlessly. what's more sickening is of course, his complete delusion.

___________________________________________

hurhur. here's a true Mat story. said mat is a friend's brother and for obvious reasons, their names shall remain undisclosed.

The Mat, his attempt at domestic life and the Quest for the Mat Weapon: Tapered Pants.

for several nights, the sewing machine whirred. it was not the mother nor the sister at the helm. it was in fact, Mat-boy.

unable to find the Secret Treasure-hold of Tapered Pants [and can someone tell me if there's an actual place specializing in said pants? i need to see it, to believe it], Mat-boy decided to garner his resourcefulness and embarked on a plan to Transmorgify a perfectly normal and acceptable pair of jeans into the Object of Horror.

i do not know how Mat-boy figured out how to use the sweing machine and the trials and tribulations he faced as his sister did not tell me, but surely, we can assume. that was his sheer determination to create the last object to complete his Mat ensemble. he had already of course, mastered the lingua franca. and lest others think otherwise, its faar more complicated than the cliched rilek one korner laah.

finally, the pants were completed. pride probably surged through him as he hah!-ed his home ec. teacher.

and so, he put them on.

and found them..a tidge too tight. oh dear. he wondered which of his inaccurate measurements had caused the predicament. then he wondered whether he had actually bothered to make any form of measurements.

but no matter, he thought, tight is good. they like tight. despite being horribly aesthetically-displeasing, it followed the code of Mat-ism. it didn't matter that said pants in addition to just being offensive to the senses, they also made the fat guys look like mutant chicken drumsticks and the skinny ones like anorexic cousins of said chickens.

so anyway, he probably started to feel a certain loss of blood circulation and wisely thought that it was time to get out of them.

but he couldn't. it had formed a vice grip on his thighs and refused to let go! no no, the pants cried, you must stay with me! we make The Mat, you are nothing without me - we shall assimilate to create one creature!

Mat-boy's heart panicked. he hadn't known what he had been getting into, and now his Wise but often Hiding Voice told him, you need help.

he refused at first. i must maintain my dignity!, he cried desperately, i will not, cannot, must not!

but he DID.

which was why my friend found him on the floor writhing, trying to get out of the pants that had clung on to him like shrink-wrap, stuck mid- thigh, crying help aagh they're too tight!

*snerk*

__________________________________

i am happy to announce that i last friday night, at school studying, i looked over across the room [as i have been prone to do so recently *snerk*] to feel a familiar long-forgotten feeling of heady endorphin warmth.

aw man, it's just that he's so sweet and Nice Boy. not cute in the typical sense, but he has this endearing quietness about him.

haha.

and he was listening to his discman, bobbing his head. then he started doing this goofy half-dance. *beams*

to be honest, i've been *cough* innocently half-observing him for a loong time, for my own amoosement.

ah well. it's fun having a mild crush again. but like my friend says indignantly, 'i only window-shop for guys okaaaaay!'.

true for me too.

and no, don't give me the crap telling me to go talk to him lah, get to know him better cuz dearies, that is exactly what always ruins it for me. i don't want to find out what's he's really like - i like the way i see him now.

hurhur, let me just enjoy the endorphin rush.

 

 

 

toodles all!

  
  
 

first of, a funny anecdote a friend relayed to me. unfortunately, for the love of pantyhose [credit to charmaine here!] i can't remember who so don't sue me for um, copyright infringement of sorts.

"so there i was in the cinema watching prisoner of azkaban. before the movie itself, they were playing the typical slew of movie trailers including the one for Spiderman2.

suddenly, in the middle of the movie, this kid asks LOUDLY, 'where's spiderman? how come he haven't come out yet?'"


hurhur.
 
#EDIT: my math's tutor told me this one.
_______________________________________________

i think the movie reviewers have been too generous with their stars recently.
 
i watched spidey2 and it's definitely NOT worth the 5 stars it got.  it was good, maybe 4?
 
to me, a 5 star movie would have the epic proportions of Troy, the laugh-inducingness of Finding Nemo, the tear-jerking and camerawork of Moulin Rouge and the plot intricacy of Eternal Sunshine.
 
i of course do realize as my friend so cheerfully pointed out that such a movie would take like 5 hours.
 
bummer.
 
tsk tsk. and other than the shirt-ripping-off scene, ol Tobey was damn ugly in this movie man. well, not ALL of the movie, but there were this two scenes where he looked so HORRID that i had to close my eyes. erk! Flared Nostrils and Scrunched Up Grimace is not becoming of you maguire.
 
as usual, it was the villain that i found more..interesting i suppose. despite it all, i've always been more intrigued with the layers of the  Mr. Bad-and-Eville Guy rather than the Good Guy, though admittedly, spidey does offer more depth than the typical 'i'm good because i want to save people and it's the right thing to do' concept.
i suppose that's why during the short period of time when i used to watch smallville, i never cared for pretty boy Clark. it has always been lex lex lex for me.
 
like draco and spike. ooh, WHOT a co-incidence.
there is an uncanny parrallel-ism between the three.
___________________________________________________
 
a moment of sheer Horror yesterday:
 
we were studying at school yesterday, so Herr Hitler was making her rounds as usual as if our moment of hard-workingness was of her doing and she was our motivation. oh puh-leeeze.
 
so there i was, studying with a sort of sadness how the greed for power had corrupted Mao into launching the Cultural Revolution when i felt an arm around my shoulder and that already alarmed me because well, i'm not a very touchy-feely kinda person.
 
but lo and behold, when i turned to see who's arm it was, it belonged to HITLER!
 
oh oh how i bristled fumed and seethed as she saccharinely smiled at me and said in her equally sickening voice "are you studying hard, izyanti?"
gag puke gag.
 
i cannot believe her hypocrisy!
 
 
 
and not long ago, she wanted to make sure i knew that i was dispensable to the school and that oh yes, i was a liability to the school's image and that augh augh augh!
 
with much effort, i kept my face blank and said tonelessly, "yes."
huh at least she's not that thick not to realize the prickly vibes i was sending out.
 
the biyatch.
_________________________________________________
 

Famous Last Words: "but it's the only shred of me left in this..this..costume!"

i was talking about my yellow zip ear stud which i might add, was only there because i couldn't find my more inconspicuous one in the morning.

what happened was that yesterday, was rmun day. i was therefore in the blazer's skirt+shirt combo when the principal [i snort in derision and complete dislike when i say this] gave me the typical head to toe scan and was greatly horrified by said stud.

this is despite the fact that otherwise, i was PERFECTLY in order.

and so, in her typical fashion, she over-reacts. here, i admit that i was in the wrong but apparently, she does not want to hear that from me either!

she completely pooh-ed all my um, i suppose, apologetic placating. and if there's one thing i should know by now, is that no adult when in a strop wants to handle a teenager seemingly more calm and collected than it.
this behavior seems to offend them greatly as it perhaps, makes them feel..inadequate. and here i say this not only referring to her inadequacy as a *snerk* principal but also in all principles, as a normal person with a normal capacity for logical thought.

by this time, my torso seemed to have been replaced by lead because never EVER have i felt it so heavy. i knew what was coming of course, that ruthless idiot.

she did not want me to be in rmun.

one word: flabbergasted.

it was horrid. all my hard work and effort just gone KA-PUT. just because, again, she wants to use me as an example. does 'suspension for doodling on the table in pencil' ring a bell?

ooh deja vu.

and i felt even worse cuz i knew this time, for sure, it was completely and irreversibly My Fault and the WORSE thing is that it was over something so trivial.
i felt like stabbing my heart over and over and over and over..well, you get the drift.

to mildly put it actually, i was distraught. how do you define this feeling? let's see, a crumbling of every shred of hope.

she hates me, i'm sure of it.

i hate her, with much passion.

for the first time in my life, i actually felt an painfully sincere wish that it was all a nightmare and that yes, oh please god, let me wake up! but yeah well, it wasn't. besides, my nightmares are always freaky, not the unreasonable ocurring in reality.

so there i was, [shall not describe my state] in the classroom when charmaine and matthew came up to me to tell me his Great Plan.

i was - am, shocked.

almost awed.

i didn't know you had it in you, you diabolical thing! i was almost..disturbed at his EAGERNESS to uh, blackmail. don't deny it, and pretti-fy with more tactful terms, you KNOW what it was lol.

he was all hermione-on-a-mission and we went around the school like an inverse Trio with me shifty-eyed and going 'are you sure you know what you're doing? what if it backlashes?', 'i don't think he knows what he's doing charmaine', 'this is the PRINCIPAL, the ultimate, ruthless uber-hitler - are you SURE? she'll end up hating you too you know!'

such an act, so fiend-ish; and to the principal no less! i am so proud of you *beams*. i didn't know you actually had a smidge of actual Eville in you -

too bad you didn't actually get to commit the act because the principal had gone out and ms. tay managed to settle it with a whole chunk load of persuasion.

technically, as punishment, i wasn't supposed to wear the blazer or speak to represent the school. hmm. *snerk*

i thank you all *sniffs* for standing by me; charmaine, matthew, my team [even though im not q sure whether you meant what you said to mrs.j] and everybody who gave me hugs and asked me whether i was okay, even though i was clearly not, I LOVE YOU ALL.



you know, it is rather symbolic that i got nearly pulled out of rmun because of such a thing. no doubt it was an abuse of her power, and unreasonable at that. but still. it seemed to prove to me that there is no compromise in real life. i have NOT been getting into trouble and generally, i think improved a whole lot conduct-wise compared to last year. and yet, over such a TRIVIAL matter, she doesn't even recognize my attempt at reforming.

therefore, it leads me to one question: what IS the point?
they won't even leave me a shred of individuality. no allowances given. i want to scream, you can't do this to me! but of course, they can.

i wish they would just leave me be.

i mean, one of the chung cheng guys yesterday had an EAR STUD on. pfft. AND, he was on the student's council in one of the leadership roles. how cool is that? i wish i was there...-wait, it's a guys school isn't it?

today, as we were on the way out of school, we went pass the uniform groups practising the marching [pointless] and being yelled at by their seniors [pointless AND masochistic] and i couldn't help but yell "uniform groups are organizations of brainwashing!". huh, their a microcosm of our school itself; how very apt.

you may say that, hey it build discipline and uh, team spirit! it cultivates a strong bond between the students! true, i cannot deny. but you can't deny either that what I say is tru as well. and that in addition to the mass brainwashing, there's a hell lot of unhealthy politics as well.

it is the introduction of the concept and practice of bureaucracy and heirachy.

the corruption of the generally simple and innocent mind of 12 year olds. *sighs* i hope my siblings and kids in the future will never have an inclination for such activities.







i am also very very smug to add that hah, hitler told mrs.j that she didn't want to talk to me because i have the habit of being able to talk myself [her exact words were 'twist words'] out of this kind of shit.

i say, I HOPE YOU DIE LONELY [WELL, YOU'RE ALREADY UGLY] AND HATED [quite taken care of] AND THAT THE MOE SACKS YOU CUZ THEY FINALLY REALIZE YOUR INCOMPETENCY YOU FROCKER. I HOPE THAT AT LEAST ONCE IN YOU LIFE, YOU WILL HAVE THE OPPURTUNITY TO BE CHASED BY AN ANGRY MOB CARRYING POINTY OBJECTS AND HAH FLAME-THROWERS! IF YOU'RE KEEN, DO CALL ME. I'LL ORGANIZE ONE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

I HOPE YOU HAVE A MISERABLE LIFE SHIRLEEN ONG.

DIE! JUST DIE!!

69 231.

the number of words i've put into this blog. tis only a rough estimate, but still. a bit less than 6 month worths of entries and rants.

that's a lot is it not?

i was transferring my entries to Words with the idea of printing it out and binding it, cuz well, i keep my diaries and 69 000 words are a lot that i dont want to be left rotting in cyberspace. i balked however at the thought of printing out 205 pages of at times, incoherent ramblings.

and it occured to me then, that my thoughts and rants would convert into a tangible form - for some reason, i am..appalled/awed by this concept.

translucent wisps nanoseconds of thought immortalized by ink and paper. i've never really realized the awesome factor of writing. imagine writing something today and a century later, still being read by people.

all the Great Authors, weilding such power in their seemingly simple pens [keyboards now i suppose]. the ability to evoke tears, wrath, pain and even more wonderfully, waken the conscious AND conscience.

i wonder how anne frank feels.
violated at first. then flattered, i'm sure.

and i wonder, when they first invented words, did it ever occur to them the impact and simply, the possibilities within these mere letters?

the power to sway
to seduce with melodious cajoling words of love
to provoke with caustic scathing remarks of disdain
the possibility of creating laughter
to make war

to brainwash too.

hmm.
am bored with this musing and am starting to think i am delving too much into the matter. must stop before brain self-combusts from an overload of sudden introspection.
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pondering my mirth at being casually [read: unconfirmed] asked to emcee Speech Day. as my friend pointed out, its all very official business and uh, as we all know, is a LOT [again, read: majority] reading out names of various over-achieving frreaks.

it is a very very Establishment event.

[a whole hour has passed cuz i drifted off tangent to read the transcript for eternal sunshine. haha joel. a bit messy at times when you can see where editting has done much good but LOTS of unseen scenes and in a way, the tying of loose threads. still moves me, reading the flick. *ponders*]

anyway, yes, my perturbing mirth at being involved in said event.

i suppose in a way, i am happy that i've been accepted by the majority. more like, they know my worth.

i dont seek approval, what i want -always have, even as a kid- is recognition. or are they the same thing? i'm not very sure, i wish someone would tell me. tell me the Truth; that i'm no more than the attention-seeking, self-centred actor that i fear i am.

though i like being different -adore it, breathe it and live by it-, the feeling itself irks me at the same time. Metaphor Moment: like a sweater that's so soft and cuddly but really uncomfortably warm.

i want to be accepted by the majority, but not be part of it. yeah, i think that's it.

how very annoying.
the way we all are. organisms [i've always thought this word's similarity to the word orgasm funny. i see a link between the two somehow] of myriad facets..how very complicated and befuddling.
see, one facet does not maketh a person. i don't see how you can understand a person, cuz to do that you would have to assimilate ALL the facets don't you? and honestly, even if you had the time, patience and mental capacity to do so without a smidge of the very annoying Judgement, which person in his right mind would ever expose his core and every fibre of his being to you?

some facets are clear and shown, displayed for all to see.
and some are left and meant to be smudged shadowed and hidden. rusty. to try change this - that would change the person too would it not?

i suppose this is why i always hold the way people say I Understand You with much doubt and yes at times, disdain.

how can you?

and i'm really rambling. but no matter.

my point is, you can't understand a person because you don't know what follow his train of thought since its linked to so many things that you cant possibly fathom because he himself isn't aware of it.

*sighs* and yes, i am aware that my ending point is COMPLETELY different from the starting point of my ramble. again, to you it's illogical cuz you can't see my train of thought but the direction where this is going makes perfect sense to me.






you know, i wanted to blog about a kinda funny anecdote of my childhood. but yeah well, another day i suppose. too bad hey, you had to endure my philosophical phase which i believe, is muchos less entertaining than me being irrelevently ludicrous.

i am in deeep shit.

for the entire night yesterday, i had a rock of forboding settled deep in my stomach, so charmaine told me to sleep it off cuz according to her, i'd feel better when i wake up.

nuh-uh.

the sleep was nice and free of problem-related dreams but when i woke up, said rock had now become a lump of lead.

this is horrid.

crisis: couldn't find my IC and proof slip that i need today for my listening compre today. realized that i left it with my oral examiners on thursday. in my rush to escape the oral room, i just grabbed my bag and more or less, ran out. they were busy marking down my notes and ddn realize that my stuff was still on the table.

what's reallly churning my stomach is that they somehow did not even realize it there and out in their big pile of papers and its now somewhere ouut there in singapore.

location unknown.

oh god oh god.

or WORSE, from the constant interrogation my parents treated me with, i have a niggling doubt ovre whwter my above story actually happened or did my brain come up with a convenient tale with the most logical value.

i was sure, with conviction that i DID leave it there. but now, i'm not really.

oh geez, thanks a lot. now i have something to add on to my already wanting to but undecided Feeling of Wanting to Hurl or Cry or Both.
____________________________________________________

and don't be a doofus, of course you matter; you're a friend aren't you? *rolls eyes*
____________________________________________________

#EDIT: hah (i'm right!). i found my things. the HOD actually got them yesterday but obviously didn't consider it an urgent matter.

indeed.

it really is disturbing that the mind is so easily nudged and swayed of it's axis of confidence.
a bit of 'are you sure??'s, 'maybe you imagined it laah' and 'seriously, check again - just in case you're wrong' is enough to make my version of events waver.

am i so easily brainwashed?

apparently not, since i can be obstinately defiant for trivial matters like not wearing my nametag and boycotting if this season's Mango sale [see previous rant] and yes, my now famous among my posse and family, refusal to eat shark's fin...and more puzzlingly, fish roe.

don't ask. the more people try to inject logic into my seemingly unreasonable decision, the more i WILL stick by it hmph! you may prove more logical, but i don't care! pfft i am right! nyeh-nyeh-nyeh! =X

and yes, i know that i reaaallly just contradicted myself but poo to you.
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harry potter and the half-blood prince, huh.

i hope harry's less angsty in this one..or not. i dont think rowling does good angst - she just makes me want to slap him, tell him to get a grip and please, STOP TALKING IN CAPS. ITS ANNOYING. REALLY.

a HILARIOUS satire of Angsty Harry.
it is of course, centred around the very funnily vain *squeal* draco and a sluttay ginny =P. must must read. its ROTFL-worthy.

anyway, back to the NOT soon-to-be-released potter installment. apparently, it's not ol' voldie. and i think neville's a pure-blood wiz.

(oh oh let it be draaaco)
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*The Official Anthem for the BimboClub*

i am Cow, hear me moo
i weigh twice as much as you
and i look good on the barbecue
yoghurt, curd, cream, cheese and butter`s
mde from liquid from my udders
i am Cow, i am Cow, hear me moo (moo)

I am Cow, eating grass
Methane gas comes out my ass
And out my muzzle when I belch
Oh, the ozone layer is thinner
From the outcome of my dinner
I am Cow, I am Cow, I`ve got gas

I am Cow, here I stand
Far and wide upon this land
And I am living everywhere
From B.C. to Newfoundland
You can squeeze my teats by hand
I am Cow, I am Cow, I am Cow
I am Cow, I am Cow, I am Cow!

-the arrogant worms [the name of the band. no, i'm serious]


our Motto: "we're like, not bimbos okaaay - we're just, uh. *twirls hair* pretty stupid."


______________________________________________________
Listening to: accidentally in Love, counting crows
let me entertain you, robbie willaims
killing me, robbie williams
time is running out, muse

fare thee well.

an epiphany slammed into me recently. i would want to apologize to those i dragged down with me into my panicky abyss but well yeah, it's all for our own good.

this is my official Goodbye note.

i have decided/been forced to drastically cut down my online time. specifically, thrice a week for only and hour or so. this would mean of course a drastically shortened if not non-existent talktime on MSN and blog rations.

oh oh i feel like dying.
how i hate the O's. with a fervour.

the Izyanti's PANIC NOW Plan also includes severe rationing of my supposed social life. i suppose gradually, i'll properly kill it but i might just go mad and i dont think losing one's sanity is a good strategy in tackling the Big One.

or maybe, more conveniently, the constant mugging will eventually kill my social life without any conscious effort. i mean, how fun can i be if i'm constantly muttering various properties of non-metallic elments and suddenly interjecting conversations with a lecture on genetics and hereditary?

*blinks*

oh oh i hate these emotional goodbyes. *daps eyes with scratchy lace handkerchief* and uh, the fact that it is possible this might just be a one-sided teary affair makes this uh, rather emabarrassing. but care i shall not!

so this is it.
goodbye [kinda] all.

i am brave,
i am disciplined,
i am a WARRIORRRRR
against the eville O's -

i am gone.

[madCAPpers: keep 3rd/4rth July saturday free!! WE ARE GOING BUGIS, I REPEAT, BUGIS!!]

i want to rant.

i have a lot to say, but the moment i see the words materialize on the screen, i feel sick in the stomach - let alone say it out into actual sounds.
despite the fact that i have friends, that i have a BEST friend, i feel compelled to stay silent somehow.

i don't like it.

am not liking feeling pissed with literally, the whole world.

i hate the way i am so aware of my snerk! idealism and being even MORE aware of the foolishness of it all. the way that i KNOW that i have to give up things i love like taking lit and art [and now, CAP] to go poly because well, that is where my career whatever it will, be.

i hate the knowing that one day, i'll end up a faceless drone in singapore's workforce, my life driven to make money to survive. to pay the bills and the kids' tutor.

the inevitability of it sickens me.

i hate the way re-living communism's death in history makes me actually SAD. because essentially, it is the death of idealism and the proving in all angles that pragmatism rules the day. the fact that we can never live in goodwill, that its beyond human nature.

what are we?

i hate the way i looks at my friends and other's in general and marvel at their immaturity and idiocy. then i feel guilty because at the same time, i'm aware that i too am guilty of said behaviour.

i hate the way when i read the article about the poor korean guy who ended up beheaded [what an ugly word, fitting in today's world] the opposite page was a full-page glamorous poster of this gorgeous blond girl with her hair artfully blown by the invisible photgrapher's fan and make-up immaculately applied with the finest brushes and richest pigments ADVERTISING MANGO'S SALE.
it disgusts me.
the insensitivity of such a grave event, and they COMMERCIALIZE it. seriously, no prizes for guessing it was strategically placed there beside a headline news.

and i'm going into mass communications?

to learn how to grab painful events and to interpret it into the language of money and sales? to forsake ethics and what-not because that's how the world goes, until finally it ends.

this is the slow and gut-wrenching death of idealism and it hah negatively nauseates me.

it makes me feel even worse that i find a smidge of comfort knowing that sooner or later, i would be what they call jaded and be numb to all of it. because then, i would have grown up - to become the jigsaw piece we all are supposed to be to make this twisted, warped world where countries submit themselves to the Big Kahuna for conveniece and security and the fact that this behaviour is logical is even more sickening.

like the vanda miss joaquims they all want us to be according to today's CAP jcdrama.
well guess what? i want to be a rafflesia but know that doing so woukd be immediate ostracization and suicide.


to sum it up, i'm disgusted at the world.
and myself.

at kino with bern, matt and hazri:

[browsing through the stationery section]
H: *pointing at mysteriously there skipping ropes* hey look, these plastic ones are really good. their of much better quality than rope ones. you should always get plastic ones.

[stifled laughter as he continues]

H: aiyah. *dolefully* but i can't skip anymore.

I: why? because you're a 16 AND a guy?

H: no, because the rope's too short.

[reaaaaaally finding difficulty at stifling laughter at his blondeness; matt interjects]

M: [tries to defend hazri, i think] but we used to skip rope in pe!

I: matt, that was in SEC 2.




LOL.
okaaay above dialogue may not be very accurate so dont kill me. and dont kill me for slander either; i LOVE you all, honestly!*beams*

and bern's 'silence'?
well, she was laughing too much.

above scene was also made funnier by hazri's earlier admittance of his primary school ECA. heehee. shall not be meaner and risk ill-will and possible violance by revealing it.

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oh oh and bern and i staked out uncharted territory there too: the Trashy Romance section.

domain of the half-naked protagonists wrapped in passionate embrace embellished by painfully cheesy cliches.

to us, it was also the Humour section cuz we took turns reading our exceptionally bad bits out loud. mwaha much to the weird look of fellow patrons and embarrassment of haz and matt.

we found a passage that was rather funny and not so cliched:
a convo between a guy and a girl,
"you're hungover. what you need is sleep, food, sex and two Coke with lots of ice in it - not neccesarily in that order."
"and you're available?"
"try the strawberries, their locally-grown."

how we laughed and laughed and laughed.