Thursday, August 18, 2005

(written on a internet-less laptop, while computer was being sent to Reformatting Land)

18 August, 2005 02:23AM

Right. I’ve realized how much I miss rambling without the worry of an audience like I used to in a similar computer journal before I was attached to the Internet, blogging and the subtle (or not) exhibitionism that comes with it. I’m writing on the school’s laptop by the way and shit, I need to go shit but I want to finish typing this sentence before I go – heaven forbid I forget to delete this off the desktop before I return it IF ANYBODY IS READING THIS BECAUSE I FORGOT TO DELETE THIS, DO TRY TO CONTAIN YOUR LAUGHTER AT MY SELF-ABSORBTION I KNOW YOU’RE JUST LIKE ME TOO, DO NOT TRY TO DENY IT.

Besides, it’s not as if I don’t know how ridiculous the previous entry sounded.

This is really quite liberating, I like the laptop’s keyboard – it makes nice, soft and gratifying clicks. I realize how little I’ve written recently, and GP essays are just hell, and lit essays! Well, they’re not that far behind either. I was telling my mum earlier on, how I don’t know whether I can do brilliantly enough to get a scholarship considering how recently, I’ve been screwing up so badly in just about everything! Other people who listen to my similar griping are quick to say, “No laaah, you! Retain! It’ll never happen” and so on, but my mother (bless her heart) didn’t say anything. I’m not quite sure what that means but at this point of time, it’s nice to hear something that is not the mistaken positive conviction of my scholarly aptitude. It gets tiring you know, and I know this does sound trite and again, self-absorbed, but its tiring and trying to hear people convinced that you are doing well when you’re actually not! It’s embarrassing, and it’s not like they’ll ever let themselves be convinced otherwise too because they’re (and rightfully so) are too caught up in their academic nightmare as well.

But then again, my mum not saying anything might mean that she can see me failing.

But then again, this would also mean that my mum doesn’t mind me failing. Of course she wouldn’t want me to fail, but there is a fine line between wanting and minding.

I suppose its times like this that we have be reminded that failure at one path does not equate to the end of the world. It isn’t after all. Right? Even so, you can hardly blame us for being so afraid of failure. In a time where the word fuck isn’t quite a profanity as it used to be, f****** might just be the new F-word.

Randomly, here’s a justification for the…mushiness emo qua-(ok I have to go shit)lity: I have a need to purge it out you know, I don’t think I should let it be quiet and simmer by itself because it might lead to a mutation of god-knows-what, and that I can bet, will not be very healthy. So yes, purging. I mean, besides, nobody that I’ve told, seems to grasp the gravity of what I’ve told them which to tell you the truth, is a trifle annoying.

I mean, seriously. To be unrestrainedly and unabashedly emo: I am trying to tell you the deepest depths of my feelings here (cue: melancholic face). I don’t know why, and can imagine why people would find it far from fun, but I want to talk about it. But everybody is so busy trying to finish their essay outlines and what-shit, and I don’t really blame them for not really veering towards being the passive half of a session of self-indulgent navel gazing. But still – darn!


August 18, 2005 09:41AM
Let’s talk about food.









Or rather, the lack of it. I have not been in eating much, and it’s not as if it’s a conscious effort to diet. It’s a lack of appetite and maybe, boredom at what there is for me to eat and the solution for this, is to not eat. This isn’t very difficult to do in school where the range I have is minimal and well, not that great.

But that is not the point here. With this lack of eating, and being constantly hungry, I cannot help but hope that hey, maybe this will help me lose some of my squishiness! When I first realized this sentiment, it made me quite wary because it was the start of joining the ranks of the legions of women who are obsessed with weight – it’s stupid, and silly but God help us, it is almost something that we cannot avoid. Maybe the answer lies within our extra X chromosome.

Do you know, whenever I come across those Beautiful People mini-articles that cite their healthy habits, what I check is not what they have for breakfastlunchdinner (which usually, amounts to nothing or should be nothing considering how bad it must taste), but their height. I look at their height, see that their much taller (not that difficult, really) but weigh THE SAME OR MUCH LESS than me! Which only makes me want to go,

“Guh.”

Or worse, they are my height, and still skinnier. I’ll explain the logic behind this: You see, if they belonged to the willowy waif-like demographic, it would be more all right because they’re not like me at all. But when they’re my height, it hits closer because well, they’re short people like me too so why aren’t they squishy and a little stumpy like me! Tres unfair.

But the even more significant point here is the fact that I am actually bothered. It’s not that extreme until upon reading such articles, I immediately rush to the loo to puke (and heaven forbid I ever end up like that, someone slap me silly really) but come on! It’s just weight.

You know, bone flesh and fat. It seems ridiculous that everybody is so concerned and pre-occupied with the amount of it. Achieving the perfect dress size has almost become the Holy Grail and I cannot understand our obsession with it.

#EDIT: HAH I'VE LOST 2KG. not that it matters anyway, because these things have a funny way of coming back to haunt you - usually in the form of the peanut butter sandwiches that i'm eating now yum.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

This morning, it took me fifteen whole minutes to realize that my father had woken me up half and hour earlier, and this resulted in my face contorting into a befuddled and annoyed scowl which i suppose, is rather amusing when you consider that i was sitting on the toilet bowl, fully clothed and doing nothing because i was too groggy.

Then, i spent another ten minutes being more annoyed, and uh, doing nothing.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

because we forgot to bring a camera today, and this mistake proved VERY irritating and regrettable as the day wore on with more Kodak Moments cropping up, i am blogging to try commit to memory at least, the seemingly insignificant, but brilliant moments had today,

a Picnic at the Istana.

the grounds of the Istana are really beautiful, to the point of looking like tellytubby-land. we walked in, where there was a pond and charmaine yelled quite befuddlingly, "flamingos!" why do i consider this outburst of emotion odd?

because they were swans.
*pauses to remember hysterical laughter that ensued*


and she took 3 seconds to realize her slip. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT CHARMAINE. i might know why she said flamingoes - because thinking back now, the landscaping of the pond and the non-pink birds looked uncannily similar to the flamingo enclosure of the singapore zoo when i was little so *that* might have i suppose, triggered something, yes. and don't ask me how i can remember such things, it's a strange but pleasant odd feeling in the gut.

MATTHEW GOT SNUBBED BY MR. PRESIDENT! this was hilaaaaaaaarious. personally, this can only mean one thing. that this benign, affable (see, positive adjectives kiddies) man has Sekrit Superpowers. why do i say this - because on the way to the istana, what charmaine and matthew spent a considerable amount of time saying Not-so-nice Things about said man. when matthew offered him some pasta, what i'm theorizing is that Mr. President has the supernatural ability to look into a person's soul and know whether you are a fan of him or not! aha.

but then again, obviously he doesn't like half-hearted defenders either because he ignored me too x( you wait, mr nathan! one day, i'll pop over the istana from under the giant flower bushes and steal your prata! then all you'll have left, is a bowl of fish curry. just because we didn't want to fangirl/fanboy you by joining your growing entourage of (oddly) enthusiastic singaporeans. of course, there were all the parents to attend to, what with them shoving their little kids into your arms and all - someone should tell them that Personal Contact With President on (insert date), (insert time) for a duration of (insert negligible number) minutes WILL NOT get said kid into a prestigious primary school after he progresses beyond monosyllabic words.

let's see, what happened next. there was massive eating, and the realization of economical it is to eat/make home-cooked food. lying down staring at the clouds through the backlit pattern of raintree leaves. sketching, bumming and an attempt to do schoolwork on matthew's part because he read an ENTIRE CHAPTER of his lit book. also! charmaine and i made friends with this cute boy.

Vernon, age: 0ne and a half years.

after playing with said little boy, who was quite shy awww, we trooped up to the istana! this turned out to be a smart move indeed.

it was getting quite hot by then, and we heard the inspiring sounds of a bell tolling - the bell, of ice cream. this made us so so so very happy that we started singing,
"DO YOU KNOW THE ICE CREAM MAN
THE ICE CREAM MAN
THE ICE CREAM MAN

DO YOU KNOW THE ICE CREAM MAN
WHO -"
because we didn't know the following lines, but you know, we've never let a bout of ignorance ruin our fun! and so, continued the wailing. we then found out however, the extent in which capitalism ruins such joy BECAUSE THE PRICES THEY CHARGED WERE DAYLIGHT ROBBERY. it was exploitation of the People! who, in all consideration, are the patriotic ones since they were at the istana, of all places.

as such, we whined a little about the prices, but hung around the booth because matthew doesn't mind being exploited for some chocolate ice cream. charmaine however, went to ask the Old Man to lend us the bell that he was ringing to lure in unsuspecting victims of enterprising capitalism and with the Power of the Bell bestowed upon us, we decided to help (no not out of goodwill, just because you all should know by now that i have an inclination for doing inane but insanely amusing things).

and we rang the bell, going, "ICE-CREAM ICE-CREAM! GET YOUR ICE-CREAM HERE itsreallyexpensivebut BUY YOUR ICE-CREAM ITS REALLY GOOD daylightrobberydaylightrobbery ICE-CREAM ICE-CREAM!" twas hilarious fun, and it only got better when we passed back the bell, and the nice Old Man gave us a free cone to share -

HURRAH FREEBIES. this of course, caused a spurt of guilt considering the um, subliminal messages in my short advertizing stint BUT CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM ON A HOT DAY KNOWS NO GUILT.

much satiated on ice-cream, we proceeded to the customary trip to the istana. much opulence yadda3, but hey air-conditioning! and no, i am not going to describe in detail the shiny pewter or the velveteen curtains (although the flowers were quite pretty) because since you've read this far, i am going to reward you with the exclusion of boring details! how's that for a magnanimous gesture.

matthew: "the curtains are really nice."
we toddle off to examine said curtains that hang over huge french doors. the situation here is that i am already quite giddy on endorphins and the golden doorknobs of said doors are hard to resist. fumbled with the first one, locked - BUT THE SECOND ONE YIELDS WITH A SATISFYING CLICK and an oppurtunity to skulk in areas that are out of bounds

and honestly, which self-respecting adolescent who has not stretched out her mischief bone for a looooong time not take it up? it was given to us, dammit. so we slipped out, under the noses of grandly uniformed guards who were pre-occupied with ensuring that the legions of toddlers didn't put various pewter objects in their mouths.

to be honest, i was quite at a loss on what to do once we got out. and i suppose, most of the endorphins came from the fact that it was absolutely clandestince, and it didn't matter that what we did was actually quite inane, like avoiding the pool attendant and laughing at room signs that indicated the Butler's Store and Flower Arrangement Room. but you see, the essence of doing classic adolescent things like this is the stupidity! and that, kiddies, is the beauty of it.

also, we learnt that while it is lame, the "sorry i didn't know we weren't allowed here, we kinda got lost how do we get out?" story *does* work. so! they didn't even check our bags to see whether we stole the butler's..shoe polish or something. shoddy work Mr. Policeman sir, shoddy work. but all is forgiven because you were so nice to and affable and accepted our story without blinking an eye.

i mean, really. do you THINK we actually *accidentally* got lost.

but you know, if there's one single moment that i would like to remember about today, it would be us sprawled on the dense carpet grass, barefoot by the water fountain with the beautiful architecture of the istana looming above us. yes the skulking and creepily hospital-like corridors were quite cool, likewise what lead to resulting free ice cream.

charmaine and i, after waddling in the fountain for awhile sprawled on the grass. at first, we were all just sitting down but you know, it was just so beautiful and UN-SINGAPORE that you just had to lie down on the grass. and then we had one of those Brainwaves (not neccesarily intelligent), i looked at her and said, "let's roll on the grass."

"what?"

"let's roll."

"no!"

"yes."

and we did! it was brilliant! three seventeen year olds, rolling around on the grass (while none of the um, other little kids were doing so) and i am telling you, tumbling around was so LIBERATING. can you say, stressedjcstudentsregressingintochildhoodandindulginginactiviesthathaveneverbeendone?

and this is the Perfect Moment that will be what carries me through the ensuing weeks of inane academia, kiddies: the seconds laughing and laughing after we stopped rolling, giddy on endorphins, feeling every blade of prickly grass through my polo shirt, eyes scrunched shut because i was laughing so hard, the sun on my face, with my two best friends close by my side






it was, for lack of better expression, a flash of what experiencing a utopia would be like, and that, is worth everything.

Friday, August 05, 2005

OMGTHISBLOGISSTILLALIVE.
i surprise myself sometimes.

today, in GP or wait no, it was ethics class -which, we all know, is just half an hour spent bitching about the dire state of the human condition- i said something which perhaps, has been the most apt thing i've said in a looong time:

"i'm sorry we're not suffering."

the context here is that we were talking (ONCE MORE) about the complacency, hedonism, indulgence and lack of intellectual strife in singaporean youths. it is getting to be a very tiresome topic that surely by now, has exhausted itself! i know i am. vell, at the least, i have come up with my stance on this issue (i.e. the above sentence) and whenever this topic comes up, as i am sure it will, i will repeat it in my head over and over and over again until i drown all the other voices out so that all i'll here is the silence of the cows coming home.

speaking of cows! today, was steffi loe, our very own Vegetarian's birthday. the day was quite brilliant because birthdays just have the tendency of inducing endorphins, even if they're not your own. i was therefore, rather hyper and mind you, this was before the onslaught of chocolate and willy wonka. THE MOVIE WAS ALSO AWESOME CHARMAINE DON'T KILL ME I'M GOING TO WATCH IT WITH YOU I PROMISE REALLY. you know, one of those days where everything seems to go smoothly even when they're not actually because you're feeling nauseous from the spray paint and your feet are wet because of the hole in your sole but you insist on wearing said tattered sneakers anyway and there's lots of work but you conveniently ignore it AND THAT BAR OF CHOCOLATE DISAPPEARED MUCH FASTER THAN YOU EXPECTED seriously, like where did it go! but none of that matters anyway, because for some reason, everything seems to be going so well today from the inane like blowing huge bubbles into the gray sky and witty repartee with Eville counter-part/anisha and walking around with a ridiculous (and not very good) british accent because the movie was just so good and i ate a packet of tomato sauce in the cinema, on its own, yes it was quite nice shut up i do NOT have a tomato fetish and i wonder when this sentence is going to end, no, i suppose not yet, let's see what else can i remember that was good and endorphin-rushing about today well AH YES i have finally noticeably defiled a piece of school property and yes, i know this is rather long overdue considering the events of 2003&2004 but give me a break yes, it is rather difficult balancing the whole I'm A Geek Really Act and surpressing the Die Establishment, DIE aspect but indeed - the blue door of the art room now has strong vestiges of limey green spray paint i wonder what annoying Operations Manager will say oh the day was charmed even for the bubble that we blew which took a fascinating and much emphasis must me placed on this, LONG-LIVED journey whereby it narrowly escaped the spikes of the roof, floated up and then paused in mid-air absolutely still as if musing what next to do, which by the way, included floating over to the next block and all Punsters with substantial experience with the Livelihood of Bubble-blowing should know that this, is nothing short of miraculous but it did after all, after some time and much joy in this corporeal world, go *pop* fare thee well, little bubble that brought us much joy and laughter, your achievements, though seemingly trivial, will not be forgotten and wow this IS a very long sentence isn't it, i wonder whether anybody's still reading this by this point, IF YOU ARE, you are quite silly indeed because i'm sure by now you would have realized that this is simply a mass of incoherent rambling that is even beyond my usual level of well, incoherence and you all really must find something to do with your life, ambition is the key IT IS THE KEY and perhaps, you should find a hobby, like like what is really passive and inane ah yes, mountain-climbing without ropes and a knowledgeble, if hobbit-like guide oh all right i suppose i'll allow you to bring some raffia and geez this rambling this is quite exhausting, i used to be able to do this for ages i must be getting old, in fact i am feeling an odd sharp pain below my ribcage, in addition to the chronic neck and backache - oh yes i've forgotten the entire purpose (yes there was one) of this rambling: happy thoughts!

because after matthew's sms and the subsequent checking of my e-mail inbox, only to find more suggestions on how to make my penis larger thankyouverymuch, endorphins that had coursed through veins dissipated quite significantly which, leads me to the conclusion that endorphins must have some alcohol-like property since it can hit you in the head so fast, but then, evaporate so quickly as well. according to the wise words of willy wonka, and yes this is the accursed accidental alliteration, endorphins make you feel like you're in love. all i have to say is, well! i've always known about the endorphins but just thought that it just made you feel generally happy but noooo. love, indeed. all right then, close all the dating agencies, re-write that Beatles song (dontkillmejanice) because it's not love, but all you need, is chocolate.