Crazy Kids
So we had Service Learning yesterday, which was horribly exhausting but fun. We were already expecting a group of really hyper, noisy kids (we had to go to a primary school and carry out some activities for “challenging kids”) but MAN, they were seriously crazy! They screamed and ran and screamed and ran, it made me feel so old when I couldn’t catch up with them. They most probably watch porn as well, judging from the suspicious video they were watching.
Then some guai kids came to join the programme, so I made friends with them instead.
I guess it went better than I thought it would. There was one particular boy who annoyed the crap out of me with his big-talk-but-no-walk, but then again he’s only 10 years old… But my group had really cute kids too. Some of them reminded me of my K1 and K2 friends.
There was one particular kid who was SUPER-DIE-DIE CUTE:
DOMINIC [forgot his surname] YIK GUAN!
He was totally emo at the start of the day, along with his pal Dylan, who was super duper cute as well. I think they were upset with the heat or something, because they kept shielding their faces. SO CUTE!@#@
The next few pictures all consist of Dominic, so bear with me:
Dominic and Jiexin 
Okay, not a very flattering photo but he’s still cute nonetheless
Dominic and Joyin
Dominic and Joyin again.
Both pictures had one of them looking unglam so I had to post both. Haha.
The kid who annoyed me the most, as mentioned above. It also struck me that he looks rather similar to a long-hated enemy, which made me even more annoyed at him. But despite his annoying character, I think he was probably the most moved by us because he kept hovering around us after the programme ended. 
The arts & crafts session
Ugh I’m dead beat, too tired to go into elaboration.
But it really was a fun day, it turned out a lot better than I expected.
I will always remember Dominic!
Quickie
Haven’t been updating lately, it’s mostly just a whole lot of school and more school going on. It’s not too bad, learning econs and doing maths is quite enjoyable, just hate the long hours.
Things yet to be done
1. Apple-picking poem
2. Study for history test
3. Stop hating GP because of the teacher and get down to studying it properly
4. Study Chinese for the A levels? (tentative)
I think it’s stupid and hilarious at the same time when students liken school life to the sufferings of people during the Holocaust or something. Yep, doing promos is definitely like being gassed and feeling the life being sucked out of you. Uh huh, a cramp in the social life is totally like being prosecuted solely for your ethnicity or religion. Totally. I mean, school stresses us out a lot, but I highly doubt that it matches the amount of despair you would feel if you knew that death is imminent.
Anyway, homework to do. So fare thee well.
MEH-HEH!
This quote from The Simpsons encapsulates what I’m feeling now:
“MEH-HEH!”
Thanks, Simpsons. 
Them Again
Those bastard student councilors cleared our lockers again, and the bloody stupid thing is that I actually paid for the bloody locker, just that those bastards were too slow in assigning the locker number so mine was seen as an illegal one.
Bastards.
That’s right, I paid for the locker (Julien and I), something which I bitched about the first time they cleared it. I don’t know where the money goes, but since the school councilors are so bloody anal about this sort of thing, maybe a bit of money will help them to keep the bloody hell away from me.
Another trivial thing that my school loves to harp on and waste energy on is late-comers. I didn’t get into trouble, but Amanda got called up for being late 7 times this year, which I find is quite little over the course of 7 months. They gave her a yellow form and stapled behind was - I couldn’t believe my eyes - a computerized table which logged all her late-comings, along with citations of whether her late-comings were due to a valid reason or not. That is the sort of crap my school wastes resources on. Maybe it’s like this in every school, I don’t know, but maybe the management should stop whining about how students are “wasting electricity” when they should look the rubbish that they’re wasting their money on.
Can you imagine being around 40-50 years old and still having to deal with trivial crap like chasing after teenagers for being late, for having short skirts, for tucking out their shirts? I think that’s truly a shitty life to live. They keep saying that they “don’t enjoy scolding us”, but if you willingly do something so often, over and over again, don’t tell me you are not deriving some sort of perverse pleasure from it.
Speaking of perverse pleasure, there are teachers out there who love to dig apologies out of students just to satisfy their own sick sense of authority. Just yesterday I bumped into the oh-so-loving teacher of terror and hell who taught me [subject] during PAE. I honestly think she’s sick in the mind, she needs to seek help.
My friend and I were walking down the stairs yesterday. We walked on the right, students were walking up the stairs on the left. Teacher of terror and hell was walking behind us. She said,
“Excuse me, girls.”
I didn’t know what the heck she wanted me to do because there wasn’t anywhere else to move except down the stairs - I couldn’t shift to the left because there were a class of students walking up. So I kept walking down.
At the bottom of the stairs, she tapped my shoulder and said,
“Did you know that you 2 girls were blocking the entire stairwell?”
What the fuck? Was she blind and did not see the students walking up the stairs?
And I knew that bloody look on her face - it was the face waiting for an apology. I know it well enough. During PAE, I saw that face 5 times a day because she’s always picking on a poor student for some what-the-fuck reason such as the one above and expects an apology. She wouldn’t budge until she has received one. Literally. She engages in a bloody STARING CONTEST with you and waits, no matter how long, for an apology. I am not exaggerating.
She couldn’t overtake me so now she’s wanting me to apologize for that?
That’s it, it was confirmed - she has a sick desire to abuse her authority. I am serious in saying that she needs mental help, or perhaps just a good kick in the ass.
I gave her a flippant “sorry” to make her go away and I can’t believe she actually accepts apologies which are coerced and insincere. It just makes her so pathetic.
If 30 years from now you’re screaming at teenage girls for having shorts skirts or boys for having hair which touches the collar everyday, you’ll know that you’ve made some wrong turns in life.
They keep wishing that we would stop shortening our skirts or being late for school - I wish they could see how trivial these matters are in the grand scheme of things.
Clearly I’ve unleashed a floodgate of hate for authority.
School really does suck, no matter how immature it sounds.
Homework-ing
Quickie:
I’m totally frustrated and stressed out right now thanks to PW and the mountain-load of homework which is drowning everyone in class. Currently typing out a GP essay which I don’t think I can finish by tonight. Which is why I shouldn’t be typing this.
I particularly loathe PW by the way.
It brings out the misanthropic side of me.
On the bright side, I pulled my first prank in SAJC today.
Hopefully it succeeded, it could go badly. Shall find out tomorrow.
B.I.T.C.H.Y
Okay, sometimes the students in my school can be so bitchy.
Not just annoying or stupid, but just plain bitchy.
My (Julien’s and mine) locker got cleared by the student council today.
Complete shit, right? She had her graphic calculator in there, I had “Dante” and “Brave New World” in there. If these books are gone, I’m seriously going to give them hell.
Sometimes I really feel like slapping them in the face.
Okay fine, technically all the lockers which were being “illegally” used were cleared, which was like 75% of the lockers. But come on lah, there are so many lockers available and if you’re able to get out of paying for them, you would. I bet they would too. Don’t get all holier-than-thou on me.
I don’t understand the concept of paying for a locker. You don’t need any money to run these lockers, they just sit there, they don’t require electricity to work or whatever. So where does my money go? It doesn’t go to the maintenance of my locker, that’s for sure.
Anyway, the point is, they have no right to grab our belongings and throw them into a pile in a corner.
I’m particularly ticked off by their claim, “The Student Council will not be responsible for any loss of belongings.” What nonsense, you took our stuff and if it’s gone, that’s your fault. By claiming that it’s not your responsibility doesn’t mean that it’s not, if you get it.
I was feedback-ing to Renee, the new President (yay), “Hey Renee, here’s some feedback, they’re being really bitchy.”
So Julien, Jiexin and I went to the Student Center to collect our stuff but guess what, it wasn’t opened, even though the notice said that it would be open from 9am to 2pm today. It was only 1pm.
I’m ready to slap some faces.
Creative Writing
I think it’s funny how whenever Singaporeans are encourage to think outside the box and go controversial, they immediately turn to either a) Homosexuality or b) Some juicy sex secret. Which kind of defeats the whole purpose of thinking outside the box or going controversial.
My sister and I bumped into this hilarious looking book in Borders the other day:
I know I’m not supposed to judge a book by it’s cover… But alamak, LOOK at that cover! LOOK at it’s title too. It can’t possibly scream ‘cliche’ more. When I saw the title, I spat, “What the hell?!”
So, of course, seeing a hilarious looking book, I proceeded read the back cover, which served to emphasize its hilarious-ness even more:
A mother finds out her son is gay; a daughter finds out her two mothers are lesbians; a niece stumbles upon the body of her dead uncle dressed in his wife’s sarong kebaya; and an old man’s nascent feelings for a Filipino maid lead him back to his suppressed art.
First of all, “a daughter finds out her two mothers are lesbians”. Well girl, what did you think?! Your mother’s just living with her best friend? Your second mother is your aunt? Throughout the entire course of your life you never once suspected that your “two mothers” could possibly be lesbians? Maybe it’s your own fault then, your mothers probably expected that you knew already.
The rest of it is pretty self-explanatory in terms of its stupidity. It’s as if she tried to stuff as many juicy things as possible into a story. Kind of like a “controversial” soap opera.
Let me try making up a similar plot:
“A husband, after discovering that his wife is a transvestite, falls into depression and a whirl of confusion, and reverts back to his old homosexual tendencies by having an affair with his old lover, who works at a male brothel. A pedophile, after discovering that the last victim he raped was his own long-lost daughter, is washed over with horror and grief, hence leading him to make a human bomb out of himself and bombs up the whole of Ah Tock Street. A hawker, in a desperate attempt to salvage his business in order to pay back a vicious and menacing loan shark who is holding his gay son hostage, sneaks opium into his food to attract more customers…”
I can go on forever. I think my pen name could be something fancy like… “Adelaina Love Tang WanQi” (Can’t come up with a Chinese name so I’m sticking with mine) Then my protagonist’s name could be Wan Si or something, a variation of my Chinese name, which is exactly what this author did. And it must be a Chinese name because only then will the book overflow with local flavour.
I think issues like homosexuality are becoming safe, I mean, I would like to see someone write a book with its plot revolving around a protagonist who is a pedophile, or a necrophiliac.
“The Lies that Build a Marriage” *jaw dropping fabulous book*
Magic Looms and Bullets!
Lessons I Learned from “Wanted”:
1. There are magic looms which generate names of people who should be killed
2. People actually listen to this magic loom
3. Bullets can go round in a full circle, and have the velocity/force to penetrate about 10 heads while going in a circle. I’m know nothing about Physics, but something about that makes me think maybe that’s not very possible.
4. Morgan Freeman’s response to James McAvoy’s question (”Where do all these names come from!?”), “It’s been working for a thousand years-ears-ars…. *cut to scene: Hooded thousand-year-ago-men using the loom*,” is very informative and apt.
5. Bullets swerve at a 45 degree angle to the right, then swerve back to the left at a 45 degree angle. Again, no Physics God, but…
6. James McAvoy looks remarkably like Frodo or Spiderman.
i.e Elijah Wood or Toby Maguire
All in all, “Wanted” was a more vulgar/violent and less funny version of “Karate Kid”
Tired
I totally forgot I owned a blog for a while, hence the absence of recent posts. I wanted to blog about the chalet like last week, but then I was so tired from it that I underwent some out-of-control sleeping, and I talked so much my braces rubbed too much against my lips and caused abrasions. I hate braces. Anyway, chalet was fun and I love you guys, you know who you are…
Last night, I was thinking about who was going to be in my future. Just a year ago I was convinced that some of the people I was close to were going to be in my future, but now I’m doubtful. Right now I am convinced that a group of people I know will stick with me for a long time, but that might change. It’s scary to think that I’ll be losing these people in the future and that I’m actually probably going to feel okay about it then, just like what’s happening now. Then I thought about the future friends that I’m going to make and it’s weird because they could be in proximity right now.
I finally talked about my fear and put it into perspective, but it didn’t really help much. I don’t know why I get so scared of things so much. I used to think it was just the dark but it’s much more than that, I get bloody scared of everything at night. I start thinking of death and it just makes me feel so hollow and sick and every horrible emotion you can think of; and I keep thinking of things that will never happen but I still keep thinking about them anyway.
I think about how tiny I am, curled up in bed when there’s an entire universe out there, everything is so much bigger and it is all happening so fast. I think about how there just has to be some connection between time, shapes and the planets, there just has to be a connection but we can’t find it, but I know that ultimately it would be such a simple explanation. Circles, everything has to do with circles. It’s so crazy and there’s always something happening a billion miles away and there’s always something happening right there and then beneath my skin, everything is just happening too much too fast. And I keep thinking about how we’re just a tiny bump on the evolution time line, nothing matters but yet everything does. Anything could happen any second, a blood vessel might burst, something might break, someone dies, someone is born. Who’s going to be in my future? Every night I feel so drained and wasted, but my mind just can’t stop running and thinking about everything.
After 17 years, and I feel so damn tired…
Okay I think I just typed the word ‘everything’ about 10 times.
That’s a great load off my chest.
Now, to get started on my heavily procrastinated revision…
Bus 143
Today, a curse fell upon me.
Every time I stepped into a bus, something bad happened. Okay not THAT bad, but still worse than usual.
This morning. It was like fate when my mum told me to walk to the other bus stop which was closer to the bus interchange even though my usual bus stop and that bus stop were of equal distance from my house. Why? Because I missed bus 10, the always nice, cosy, empty bus 10.
No. I had to board bus 143, the stinkiest, gross-est, most crowded, most uncomfortable bus is the history of SBS transport (You see this, Land Transport Authority?). It’s always stuffed with a gazillion people, and 90% of the are the elderly. I’m not discriminating the elderly, but something about a bus full of them makes it eery and depressing. It’s the sad bus, I should say.
So today, it was crowded, as usual. As I was standing, an elderly man sitting on one of the seats tapped my arm and asked, “Xiao jie, ji dian ah?” (Girl, what time is it?)
“8.10am”
“Xie xie.” (thank you)
3 seconds later, the bus is passing by Haw Par Villa.
“Xiao jie… [mumbles some inaudible crap]… Hen piao liang, wo gen ni yi qi zai Haw Par Villa pai zhao ba. [Mumble more inaudible crap]”
(Girl… [mumbles some inaudible crap]… Very pretty, you and me take picture together at Haw Par Villa? [mumble more inaudible crap])
I was thinking, “Oh fuck.”
“Xiao jie… [inaudible crap]… Xia ge nian xing nian de shi hou wo gen ni qu Haw Par Villa ba. Na bien hen piao liang de”
(Girl, we meet at Haw Par Villa next year on Chinese New Year k? Haw Par Villa is a pretty place.)
I was so fucking scared. Plus, there was no where to move because that stupid 143 bus is always so bloody full. And here was this crazy man tapping my arm every 2 seconds to get my attention and saying creepy shit.
So he kept on going about how nice Haw Par Villa looked and a bunch of other crazy shit, I couldn’t really hear him.
Whenever I think of scenarios like these in my mind, I would always say to myself, “Yeah Julia, you’d totally kick his ass or slap him or something. Crazy guys? Just ignore lah. Yeah man, I’m woman, hear me roar!”
When that happened on the bus today, I nearly cried.
Damn you, Julia. You and your independent woman nonsense.
Today I realized that thinking it and actually experiencing it are two totally different things. When I told my friends this story, it was really funny. But when you’re actually there, you’re so alone and helpless and trapped by this crazy dude, it’s seriously not funny. It’s fucking scary.
Plus, everyone saw what the crazy dude was doing and how I was about to burst into tears, but they just went on staring and watching. Some girl even gave me these annoying knowing looks, like, “Geez, what a baby.” Yeah, whatever sister, just wait till you get harassed by a crazy person one day. JUST WAIT.
Eventually a man helped me out and stood between Mr Crazy and me, so Mr Crazy stopped tapping my arm and talking to me. Thank you, whoever you are.
That was on the way to school.
On the way back, nothing too bad happened except I tripped on the stairs up to the upper deck and there was this cheena secondary school couple making out like rabbits at the back of the bus.
Bus 143. The cursed bus.