YOU.

For some reason I hate everyone now.
I don't like it.

I can't think of a person right now that I can't mentally snarl at. This might have something to do with me sleeping way too late staying up doing work for the past three days. Or.. nights. Or mornings.

I guess not sleeping does induce crankiness.
Oh, and I have finally started to hate "Mrs Ow".

..
Like, REALLY hate.
More than before, that is.

This post sucks. I have work to do here. Ararswsrfewf

-Zan

About Time.

I was thinking about things that I would do/start doing when I become old enough to live alone. Here is the list:

1: Become a lousy vegetarian who sneaks fish into meals.

2: Have my normal haircut be a bald head for at least a year.

3: Have foot-length hair as a norm for at least 6 months.

4: Have a room purely for artistic expression.

5: have a room filled with bubble-pool balls.

And that's all I can think of so far.
NEXT:

More habits shown by other people in public that I hate:
People who stop in front of the escalator to look around with a mock "wtf?" expression, telling the world that they accidentally took the wrong escalator.
..
GET OUT OF THE WAY.
It sucks to be the person behind escalator-cloggers, because people will blame you for being the one causing all the stumbling.
Rr.

I remember seeing a class of students in City Hall, being briefed on how they would be collecting donations. No, not the put-the-coin-in-the-can kind of collecting, but the kind where they show you their papers and ask for the donation. It usually is a Jaws-type of situation.

You are walking towards the inside of the MRT station.
You look around for a garbage bin to throw your can of (some carbonated drink) .
As your eyes sweep around the area, they unknowingly chance upon the looming eyes of another.
In a fraction of a millisecond, those eyes somehow notice that you have looked at them. They look back, and the bearer of those eyes perks up.
Immediately he dashes towards you, holding out his card and papers, speaking with such bullet-like speed.
The following occurs:

*shows you identification card*
"HelloI'mBillyKohFromBlaBlaBlaOrganisation.."
"Uh, I-"
"AsYouCanSeeFromMyCardIAmNotAFakeTryingToCheatYouOfYourMoney"
"but I di-"
"WeArePartOfANon-ProfitBlaThatHelpsBlahsToBla. IfYouWouldJustBeSoKindTo-"
"Shit. Well all I have now is two dollars. Is that okay?"

he gives you some stupid crinkly look with the eyes.
THE EYES.
As if to say "SHOW ME YOUR WALLET, I KNOW YOU HAVE MORE!"
THE EYES KNOW YOU LIE.

And it's all so unnerving and embarrassing and Blegh.
Still, luckily for me the kids were being briefed, and their doom was not unleashed to the public before I hop-jogged my way past them.
Zan 1, Those Students 0.

I really gotta get blogging again. This all looks... sloppy.
I NEED TO GET MY FLOW BACK.
Hm.
Ah, right, the old people.

I hate walking past old people. Even worse, old-people posses.
It's just the fact that I feel so much like an ASSHOLE when they walk slowly.... slowly... sooo slowly in front of me, and when I walk normally past them i look like I'm deliberately trying to show off my superior walking skills. And I'm not! I even slow down a bit, I try my best, but nothing refrains from making you look like a dick when you walk past old people.
Tip: Pretend you're really late for something and just rush past. It should save you the guilt.

Ssssiggggh.
Sigh 1: This evening is the last evening of the holidays.
Sigh 2: Unexpected feelings and wtf-ness arise.
ANYWAYS.
I do have one more thing to blog about (how to cheat the zebra-crossings.), but that'll be for next time. Now, I REALLY NEED TO DO MY WORK.

PS: You'll never guess what Sigh 2 is about.
(Not Van, in case anybody was wondering.)

-Zan

Of Height.

I have flu today. Idunno what it is, but I feel SICK.

..

AWESOME!

except fer the runny nose. That part sucks. SUCKS.

-ZAN DUHRR

Bax

Fortune cookie says:

The God of Fortune is with you today!

Anyways. The last Hongbao has been taken, and the counting shall BEGIN.

...

...

Woah!
More than I expected. Way more. Woot.

Dinner with the Wongs was interesting, and it was interesting to see Andrew after he'd gone through the most significant physical change in one's life - puberty.
Heck, he even had those little moustache-ends.
And his height! He's extremely close to my height, and I shall blame this on his association with basketball and his apparent 'bad eating habits', because protein helps you grow, and with a lotta eating comes alotta protein, I guess.
Rar.
Oliv and Andrew were quiet at the table, though. Quieter than usual, that is. I guess that's what happens when we have teenagers at the table. Adults kept the noise going, though. The conversation, I mean. Vic was the loudest of the children at the table, though. To me anyways. I can't blame her cause my ear was right in front of her..
Edward still a happy guy. Bouncy. The fact that Andrew's been teaching him the stuff he knows is great.
Hey, he'll be of Primary school age next year. Interesting.
I seem to be using that word a lot recently... to the thesaurus!

Oh, right, gotta meet Chris tomorrow.
Commonwealth, 11am
Woah, it's past 12!

I guess this is the last event I'll be having for a while, so I'll be going back to the old observational posting after this.

Two, two and six.


-Zan

The Obligatory Flag Day Post

Flag day was pretty good!
As I look back at this morning/afternoon, I notice how the hours didn't draaag by as one would expect 8 hours of collecting donations to. Maybe it's because I didn't have a watch. Heh. Or a phone. Or any other chronologically informative device. It was also funny how people in the morning were more willing to donate than the afternooners.
Here's my list of people that were more likely to donate:

People on the phone, for some reason.
Suave looking Indian dudes. (Sunglasses)
Old Caucasian couples that are above 60. Those below are less likely to donate.
European couples.
Mothers with children (of any race).
Teenage couples.
People with their friends. (Adult or teenage. Of any race, even Chinese. Bonus points if they are of different race.)
Smokers. (Who knows why, but they seem willing to donate.)
Women friends.
Thin middle-aged Chinese guys. They're always nice!
Families.
People with earphones, for some reason.
Men with business pants. They seem to always have a pocket fulla coins.

And that's all, until something refreshes my memory. Now here's the list of people who were less likely to donate.

Normal-bodied middle-aged Chinese guys. They just give you this grimace.
Chinese teenagers that are female. (They don't even smile. They'll look at you if you're lucky. Friends are an exception though.)
Caucasians. (with the exception of elderly ones, and those with their children. Well, at least they reject with a smile.)
Fathers with their son.
Teenagers that are alone. (With the exception of Indian ones, for some reason. They're awesome.)


Note that the lists are based on my experience, meaning you might have a different one (based on how you look or ask for donations, probably.), and the lists do not apply to your donation-collecting.

All that aside, I'm grateful for the coins and notes I got. The fact that we got anything at all shows us that Singaporeans aren't really the 'typical Singaporeans' we think they are. Some of us, anyway.
And just a little tip I remember:
Do not fill the rim of your can with stickers. Put stickers on one by one, so people will get the impression that they'd be taking the last sticker. Makes them feel special, maybe. It worked for me!
Another tip:
When asking for donations, walk slower a little. Look like you're prepared to stop, because people will just pass by if you look like you're just flowing past.
Another:
If you bang around your can (sloshing around the coins), and people see this, and hear this, you are less likely to get a donation out of the same people afterwards.
Also:
If it is windy and some guy is trying to put a dollar bill in your can, do not help. This will raise the chances that the bill will accidentally fly away.
And:
Banging your coin-filled (coinful?) cans to the tune of "We Will Rock You" is crazy-awesome.
boom-boom-BAP, boom-boom-BAP


Eating with the ex-neighbours in about 45 minutes. Woo.

I will not refer to CNY dinners as money collecting.
I will not refer to CNY dinners as money collecting.
I will not refer to CNY dinners as money collecting.
I will not refer to CNY dinners as money collecting.
I will not refer to CNY dinners as money collecting.


-Zan

[Title]

[Introduction of topic]
[elaboration

[sub-topic derived from topic]
[elaboration]

[random noting]

[dash]
[Zan]

Maybe That Millisecond Isn't Gone

Wikipedia is great. One can go from reading up on Stanley Kubrick to internet memes to April Fool's jokes to Google to Time Travel.
I chanced upon the article on John Titor, and it made me think about myself in a future where time travel is possible.
I would definitely take a visit to see the past Me again.
I probably already have. Maybe I haven't spoken with my future self (yet?) because he decides not to interfere with the past, for he might turn out to be a vastly different person.
Maybe the future me is just sitting somewhere, watching me.

What an interesting thought.

-Zan

Har Har Har.

Eating Banana nut crunch cereal.

And I was thinking.
If there ever was a Mr. Banana NutCrunch, he would have...

... the WORST surname in the history of ever.

Ahahaahaha
Nutcrunch

-Zan

Cynical?

Well, I guess the fact that it involves magicians makes it cynical. To my eyes, anyway. A story about magicians can symbolize that all the magic in life must have a trick, a 'secret' behind it. It's all an illusion. A set-up.

Hey, you think it'd be really easy for a magician to go atheist? Kinda like Penn & Teller. Knowing so many secrets to so many acts that seem to be magic is bound to make one a skeptic. "Naw, it can't be real."
Even the machine that was said to be 'real magic' (in the movie) was later referred to as just being science instead.

And it's strange how I always wake up in the morning with this surprisingly slim body. No matter how much cereal I eat for dinner the night before, all that food takes no place in my body. Or at least appears not to anyway. Maybe all that energy is being used up when I sleep. Maybe my brain is excessively using up more calories to compensate for lack of physical activity. If that truly was so, I LOVE MY BODY. Maybe that's why I go to sleep with strange pieces of music being created in my head. Or wake up with completely random song lyrics sometimes.
Still, I don't wanna depend on my brain too much for my bodily fat-burning. (Or oxidizing.) My body has to get used to exercise. I do have water polo tomorrow. Damnit.

LESSONS FOR TOMORROW:
1MT
1SS
2EM
2PA
1SP
2C4L

The redder the font, the more I don't generally like the subject.


Hm. The weather forecast add-on in Firefox says it will be 'Cloudy with a thunderstorm for the next three days (including today).
It's still pretty sunny out. I'll base today's weather on whether I'll bring an umbrella tomorrow or not.

I wonder what's on Van's blog. Don't think she's updated it yet. Ar.
I bet Ada's updated hers. Off I go, then.

Oh.
Wait.
Just a word of thanks:

Thank you, Hero. I didn't know why you kept barking so awkwardly in the dead of the night, but I do now. I now see that your actions, although selfish, have spared Marang Road from being overrun by that pack of stray dogs. You get a mental cookie.

Hey, why is everything in tiny size? I hate this error.

... And that is all for this morning. Off I go!

-Zan

The Nails on My Leg

Another thing people do wrongly that makes me frustrated:

They confuse their feet with their legs.
I've constantly heard people refer to their feet as their legs, and don't really see the difference when I point out this error to them.
Hopefully somebody sees this:
http://img226.imageshack.us/img226/8673/legfootey4.png

While I'm at it, here's another:
THE WORD 'FILM' IS PRONOUNCED 'FFFF-ILL-MMM.'
IT IS NOT PRONOUNCED 'FFF-LUH-MMM'.

I swear, every time I hear someone pronounce it as 'flum', I get this horrible cringe in my head. It just makes me mentally go 'arrg!'. It's so very annoying.
Maybe it's because they pronounce the 'L' in the word by itself. Assuming that they pronounce 'L' as 'Luh' and not 'El'.

F-I-Luh-M.
Ffffff.....iiiiii......luh...mmmm..
fillum.
flum.


Maybe.

Nothing more to type about for now, except that I find myself becoming more concerned about working on the retreat than I usually am concerned with any project. It's a good thing, but it just seems... odd, for me. I'm usually the one who doesn't work that much.
Your body isn't the only thing growing, Zan.

Heh, I still hear rockets outside. at least I think they're rockets. Making that "pphhhwwweeeEEEEEeeu" sound and all.


The Prestige is AWESOME. Bowie plays a great Tesla, and the plot is great. A little grim, perhaps, but great. Like I told Joshua, the scene where Borden snaps the fingers of an innocent woman just to get back at Angier is the part that really set the movie for me. Makes it so much more serious.

And about snapped fingers:
The concept of having fingers you could never use again is actually very sad. Think about the many things we do with our fingers. The first time I thought about this was when I read a moral-bearing story where a father smashed all his son's fingers just because he was angry. The son asked his father "When are my fingers growing to grow back?", and the father killed himself.
Is that sad or what.

And my mind is already looking for something else to type about. Relax, fingers.
Reeeelaaaaaaaaaaaxxxxxxx.

I 'liked' her again today. Funny how one moment my mind thinks of her and melts like butter. On a frying pan. Above the sun.
And yet thinks about her the next moment and feels nothing about it.

Oh how you puzzle me, FakeLove.

Here's another "And Also":

And also, I've noticed how my past few blog posts are more muddled as per usual.
I need something to blame.
Rawr.

-Zan

You foxy thing, you

ENTER THE FIRE PIG.

News for the new year. Or, rather, today:

FIREFOX IS BACK.
All it took was to completely uninstall my current (unworking) Firefox, and reinstall the new one. That's all it took! And here I was, mourning over how all my history and bookmarks would be uninstalled with the rest.

Kickass.

Smashmouth - Diggin' Your Scene is playing. Corny name, but does it ever fit the mood.

KickKickassass.

Aw, it's over.

Asskick.

Also: WE NOW HAVE 48 CANS OF HEAVEN&EARTH MANDARIN ORANGE.

KICKKICKKICKASSASSASS!



Also...



In honour of the Lunar new year, I shall paste bits of astrology involving, well, my year.
NYAH.

Here we go:

I am born in the year of the Metal Goat/Ram/Sheep.

The Sheep, or Goat, oddly enough, is thought to be the most artistic sign of the zodiac, perhaps because this is a very creative sign. The Sheep is artistically talented and has a great sense of fashion (Ha!) . Chances are that this type will prefer to be a designer or painter, or go into the kind of profession where he/she can make the most of his/her gift for creating beautiful things.

These people are considerate creatures - they think before acting, and try not to hurt anyone's feelings. If it ever happens that the Sheep person causes unforeseen problems, it is very likely that he/she will step forward to rectify the situation (Meaning: If I did anything wrong, I didn't mean it!) . This side of their character helps them maintain a healthy social life (Double Ha!) as well as enabling them to deal with life's ups and downs.

Sympathy is very important to these people as is the approval of people they respect. However, they sometimes require too much attention and impose too much on those who are close to them (I wouldn't know. You tell me.) .

Sometimes they are too sensitive for the real world; they often misinterpret situations. People born in this year are insecure. They need to feel loved and protected. They are easily drawn into complex predicaments. This being so, they usually shy away from confrontation, pull back when faced with heavy decision-making situations, and blatantly refuse to take an unpopular stand in a conflict. (I hate this paragraph.)

Zodiac Location	8th
Ruling hours	1pm-3pm
Direction	South Southwest
Season and month	Summer, July
Gemstone	Emerald
Roughly equivalent western sign	Cancer
Polarity	Yin

(just for the record, I'm a Libra.)


... and I just came back from Mount Faber. It conveniently had to rain when I came back from the hill, though. Rr.

Method of getting past Hero the Wonder dog upon arrival:
Picking up some stick on the way home, and throwing it away from me when Hero started running to me. This diverted him for a while and by the time he started running back to me I'd reached the stairs. Mission successful.

Time of post start: 1545 hrs
Time of post end: 1721 hrs
Hey, I was distracted through the course of writing this.

Hey, this is my blog's second ever CNY. Woo.

PS: To J:
How's this for not thinking too much?


-Zan

Just pointer-outers

Just for those that may not get it:

ONE:
-This blog, as it is called, is a Thought Bubble. If you read these posts or even comment on them, that would be really cool. But for the reader that goes 'wtf did that last one mean, be less vague', be reminded that this is but a thought bubble, and what I think goes in it, vague as it may be.
I may even start a post with

"ARGH. Look at what you did. Now I can't tell them.

I wish you wouldn't show him anymore. Argh."

... that. Because, once again, the posts in this blog represent what exactly I am thinking at the time. So don't be confused.


TWO:

Just to keep people from getting further confused here - see that profile on your right there? That hasn't been updated in two years. Don't let it mislead you.

-Zan

SCORE.

I will never forget that time, and that location until I DIE

laa deedaaaa
GLEAM

And I think it's time FOR ANOTHER...
-Zan

Happy Points.

This morning I pondered about something I shall call 'Happy points'.

Happy points are a unit of your happiness. For example, watching TV and eating would usually have a HP (Happy Point) level of 60, due to its unstressful nature and lack of effort required in doing it. Whereas something such as working on a school project on 'The history and principles of our education system'... or something like that... would be worth 8HP, if not less.

The Happy Points administered are based on how people I KNOW would feel. Meaning they are based on how an 'average person' is supposed to feel.
Meaning not everybody has the same HappyPoint system.
Thus if you are a unique and different individual, sod off. These won't apply to you.

Anyways.
My question is
What is the ideal way to use your Happy Points?

Would it be to save them up and then reap the benefits later?
i.e:


















Or would it be better to remain with a constant level of Happy Points throughout your life, without any lowering (or 'saving') them at all?
i.e:


















What got me thinking about this is the O levels. They led to this question:
Would it be better to work reeallly hard at the start of your life, so that you'll be successfull and work a lot less later on, or would it be better to work at the same rate throughout your life, having an equal balance of work and leisure throughout.
I guess that's what determines the graph lines up there.

Graph one:
WORK+
LEISURE-
after time:
WORK-
LEISURE+

Graph two:
WORK neutral
LEISURE neutral

Heh.
So the question you should ask yourselves today, young readers (I wonder if I have real 'readers' anyway. I need a tagboard, just to see who reads this thing, I guess.) is:
How should I use my Happy Points?


-Zan

O

After observing reactions of my seniors and my friends who have received their O level results, I have made the following instructions on how one should react:

IF YOU DO NOT LIKE YOUR SCORE:
-Only tell your score when asked
-Stay away from friends you know are smart. They probably got a really high one. This will create unnecessary hatred.
-You have the right to hate your friend a little - no, wait, a lot -if their score is higher than yours, ONLY if e tells you without you asking, and especially after e heard your score.
-Always state your L1R4 score with your R5 score, so you at least have a lower mark to state.
-Please don't feel too bad about it.
-Please.
-Turn off your phone. If you don't, you will have millions of people call you with the following words prepared: "SO WHAT YOU GET". And it really sucks when you have to repeat a number that you don't like over and over.

Note:
I have decided that how a student should think for the O levels is to aim for the absolute best and expect the absolute worst afterwards.
anyways, moving on:

IF YOUR SCORE IS REALLY, REALLY GOOD, AND YOU LIKE IT TOO:
-Do not tell anyone your score unless you are asked. Be humble.
-When telling someone your score, do not go into it (eg. 'I really expected myself to get a C for those subjects, surprised that I got an A!'). This will make your friends hate you, unless their scores are higher than yours. Or they are really good friends.
-Avoid bragging to people you know are smart. They might get back at you if their scores are better.
-Do not call or sms or message your friends for their results unless you know they would get good marks beforehand. Otherwise it would be a real downer if their marks were really far from what they expected.
-If you are speaking with your friend on the phone and e has bad grades, do NOT make a long pause and continue with "Aaaanyway, I got really good! In fact, I got blablabla", cause that's really mean.

Well, I guess it's applying time for them folks.
My unexperienced advice to those taking their Os this year:

-Aim for the best (a six!), expect like... a 40. This way your personal standards will affect the way you work during studying, and you won't be all cut up if you get a mark that's really bad, because it's still below 40.

-Really study. Really.

-Bring tissues for results day. Crying will occur, whether marks will be bad or not.

-Look everywhere for O level papers from the past. Ask your teachers!

-It is worth sacrificing your time to study for your O levels (I reckon.). This is purely because if you get a high score, the higher powers will be more biased towards you, even if the skills required to pass the Os will be forgotten by you in, like, 2 weeks. So take the time to study. STUDY.

-STUDY.

Which reminds me of a thought I had earlier this morning, which I shall type about in my next post. Till then!

-Zan

Chicken or Egg

Woah, Ada really blogs a lot.
I love these pants,
I love these socks,
I love this shirt,
I do not love suspense. MALINA, HAVE YOU FOUND OUT YET?!



Anyways, good luck to all y'all Sec 4 and 5's getting your results tomorrow.

-Zan?

Simple Mind = Simple Life?

Came up with this thought at the balcony.

Looking out from the balcony for the millionth time, I wondered if I was really taking notice of the trees right in front of me, and wondered if I would recognise them at once if shown a picture of them.
So I looked at the tree on my right, analysing it in all its glory. Its branches were extremely tangled and twisted together, which made me think of all the complications in this world that shape our personalities and our lives. And at the same moment made me think of how complicated our brains are.
What made me think of these, I think, are the books 'How to overcome your difficulties' (a very Buddhist-influenced book) and 'How To Use Both Sides of Your Brain' (which repeatedly stressed the complexity and wonder of our brain throughout the book), which I had read recently.

I then thought: If our brains were extremely simple, would we lead simple, peaceful lives as well?
And I thought of things which complicated life, one of the first being Race.

Before you read the next few lines, know this to help you understand it better. I believe that our physical and cultural differences are caused by our locations, our surroundings. One of the things that influence me to think this is that most people with darker skin have origins in countries that are mainly around the equator. There are more, but that's not for now. Anyways, moving on -

Then I immediately thought: Why isn't this planet we live on smaller?
If Earth were smaller, there would be fewer people to argue with, issues would rarely be settled by bombing because countries would be too close to each other, there would be a lot less land to argue about, people would look a lot less different from each other, it would be easier for countries to communicate, deadly changes in the planet like, say, the atmosphere, would be easily observed by people, it would be harder for couples to cheat because there would be fewer places to hide, and so much more. Sure, we might become less capable to problem-solving (because of the reduction of problems) and thus become less smart, but we wouldn't have any smartypants people to compare our intelligence with, and thus wouldn't care. Our minds would be smart enough for this new world. Wouldn't a smaller planet be awesome?

Hey, what if we were given these mind-exercising complications for a reason?
I mean, none of us enjoy the complications all that much. Maybe we're smart for a reason of a larger scale, a bigger picture.

I also wonder: What if someone wished for this before, and we do indeed have a smaller planet than before? I wonder how chaotic that world would have been before this one.
Maybe it is true, maybe the world has become smaller, and maybe we haven't noticed because, similar to the adaptation theme throughout this post, everything on the Earth has become smaller with it as well.
Heh.
How funny.

Well, in that case,
Wouldn't it be better if Earth had a smaller planetary mass, but everything on it stayed the same size?

I love that balcony.
The calmness of it just... forces me to ponder.

-Zan

VD

...

Should I?


... ...

Really, should I?
It would be 'sweet'.


It would also be embarrassing.



...
Should I?

-Zan

Grow Up.

Darkgreen,
Who are you to say that when you rejected taking it in the first place, making an excuse by telling ME not to 'joke around' and take it?
In you come with none other than those words, when you never even TOUCHED the damn thing, and she had to bring it to class eventually.
Have you no sense of responsibility?
You may refer to your SeeseA to counter that, fine, there is responsibility in that, but even then you don't do anything, as you boast so frequently to everyone. And even if you DID show responsibility then, do you think that compensates for EVERY OTHER aspect of life that demands responsibility?
It is a fact that for every project you've been in, that I've seen, you did nothing. Nothing for contribution. And the laziness isn't all.
Accompanying this, there still is Arrogance. The gift of the Brag. Hell, you brag and brag, but never really give others a chance to prove you wrong, do you? Nice my ass. "I listen to what people say" my ass.
I haven't forgotten the possiblity that why you act this way may just be 'for fun', or just you 'joking around'. Ah. joking around. Sound familiar? Look at that first paragraph now.
Anyways, you might say that it's all in good fun but, Mr I-Know-How-Everyone-Feels, think about outcomes such as this. Think about the little flames that build up in whoever has to take your arrogant shit.
I guess you didn't think about that beforehand, Mr Forethought.
Also: Caring for one person doesn't make you an extremely caring. Doesn't make you worthy of saying I'm So Caring. So shut up.

If you do know who you are, and feel that if I "want to say something say it to my (your) face",
maintaining the tough-shit aura you have worked so hard to build, No.
I don't want to say it to you.
I just want this to be my time to actually show how I feel right now, interruptions discluded, stupid bigot schoolgames aside, even if it's written in semi-secrecy.
This is all but a thought bubble, anyway.

I may return to calmness tomorrow, maybe even a state of acceptance for you, forgiveness even, but I'll keep this here as a scar. As a reminder that not all is happy and wonderful and great all the time. And a reminder to the mindless Me of tomorrow, who probably will forget about this after sleep.

(P.S: ARRH.)

(P.P.S: To someone else: You were right. You just didn't know how to express it.)

(P.P.P.S: See what happens when I wake up late and rushing?)

-Zan.

EACH BLINK WILL COST YOU MILLISECONDS.

Thoughts on the way home, outside school:

In primary school, the romance system worked this way:
1: There must be someone you 'like'.
2: 'Who you like' will be the most phenomenal secret in your entire existence.
3: If you ever tell anyone who that person is, it will be told to someone else.
4: It will.

Now as we get older, the romance system gets a little different:
1: There must be someone you like, but you are allowed to switch from time to time.
2: It's not that much of a secret, but if someone knows who it is and asks you if it's true, you are obliged to say "Shut up lah."
3: Usually the person is told, at some point.
4: If you're lucky, you'll go out for a while, and then break up.
5: if you're not, then too bad. That person might just go "Oh. Okay." or "Hah?! really?! Shit!"

Still, we get older, and eventually it will evolve to something like this. Well, for the guys as far as I know:
1: You don't have to 'like' someone.
2: Who you 'like' can be anyone, as long as they look good. (eg. "I'd hit it.")
3: That's pretty much it. And if someone stimulates your feelings enough, you get a girlfriend.

I have yet to know what the situation is like as we age further. Bleh.
Note: THESE ARE ALL ESTIMATES.
PS: I follow the third system, which explains why I can't answer all you idiots going "C'mon, who you like one???" "Don lie lah, must be someone", et cetera.

And here's a thought made while sitting on the tree stump up the hill to home:

I typed the full-stop of this sentence at exactly 6:54pm and 0 additional seconds, January the 29th, 2007.

That particular time will never occur again.
Doesn't really mean much, but it's kind of weird if you look at it that way, huh? That every passing second is a fresh, new one and will only exist once, ever.

6: 56 and 0 seconds.

And counting.

They're flying past, at a rate of One Second per Second.
And they're never coming back.


-Zan

Drop 20.

Why Unchained Melody moves me so, I don't know.

It mostly lies in these two:
Wikipedia's description of the 'story' in the song:
"The lyrics, which describe a prisoner's anguished longing for his wife,"

And this portion of the lyrics:
"And time goes by
so slowly,
and time can do so much
are you
still mine"

They just make me feel all sad inside, not knowing if your wife has fallen in love with another man, while you remain trapped inside prison, unable to do anything, going mad not knowing what's going on out there.

And before I got the song, I only heard an instrumental version of it by Mantovani.. and just that little excerpt made me all sighy too. (This was about three months ago.)

And my friend just booked out of NS. He's booking back in today. I think he already has.
This kind've made me think of how maddening it would be, to be in NS for 2 years, almost confined from the outside world and unable to know what's going on out there, and missing the education that the damn girls are getting.
They say females can join NS too.
To any female reader reading this now: Would you join National Service? You do have the choice. Would you?


My friend says they can't blog about NS. Aw. I guess it's to prevent foreign nations from being 'prepared' for what Singapore's army has for attack (or defence).

I told him I was planning to live in extremely lousy conditions: eating simple food, sleeping in smaller periods, training a whole lot more and such two weeks prior to enlisting.
He said the following:

"NO"
"enjoy ureself as much as possible!"
"ENJOY!"

Heh.
It must be pretty bad there.
Well, I've still got a long way to go before then. I'll consider this post a reminder, then.

"And time... can do sooo muccchh... ... are you... ... still.. MIIINE"
: (

-Zan

FABERJOGGING.

Woke up at about 6.05 today, despite sleeping at about midnight the night before. Or maybe... this morning. Somewhere in there.

So I woke up and reminded myself that I wanted to go jogging on the weekend. (I wanted to, after eating so much and all.)

And so I showered.
And I changed.
And put on my socks.
And shoes.

And started running out on the road towards Mount Faber.
Woo.

I also helped this guy find Faber on the way back.

Coming back from Faber, up the hill to home, I thought of some weird little thingy while feeling the sweat in the hair on the back of my head:

Hairsweat means your hair's wet
Skinsweat means your skin's wet
And so on.

Get it?
Yes? No?

Well, have a good morning. I know I have.
CEREALTIME

-Zan

Schlump.

I've been feeling lazy these past few days.

Sleeping easily.

Waking up early on my own.
Waking earlier the later I sleep.

Just because Van thought it was amazing:
ON THE 15TH OF JANUARY 2007, MONDAY, I ("actually") CAME TO SCHOOL WITH SOCKS THAT WEREN'T OF THE SCHOOLS. BLACK SOCKS. TOE SOCKS.

And I thought on the walk up the hill to home:
Why is it that (well, to me,) when an Indian girl speaks English with a European/Caucasian accent, it sounds really... annoying (and arrogant), but when a Chinese girl speaks English with a European/Caucasian accent, she automatically becomes the hottest thing in the universe?

Strange.
(PS: Doesn't apply to Van, in my case. I'm used to her speaking, and only notice the 'accent' when I reiterate what she says with a guy voice. Again, strange.)

Hm. What's up tomorrow?
SS test (study for it)
POA thingy?
Oh, man. C4L lessons. Arrgh. Darn peanut.

And ZEST is in two days.
Awesome, it's gonna end.
More extras-

My religion: Whatever makes you happy. (Though I do favour the Clockmaker Hypothesis.)

About religion:
I think that humans will never really find the answer to the question of How It All Began. And not just the Earth, I mean All. How did God come to be? How did what made God be made (et cetera)? What caused the big bang? Is it all a loop? Why can't people like me just accept "God was just... there."? Will this all solve my easy-sleepiness? Is the answer No?

Which reminds me of an awesome paradoxical question I read once:

Is the answer to this question No?

Tis a muddled up post, 'tis.
Shlumpadump.

I hear their dog crying out from the balcony.
God it's sad.
Hearing it whine every night. Not being able to roam free like the other dogs.
Confined to the locked balcony, only able to see the night sky outside.
I wonder what it thinks.
What it would say.
Does a dog weep?
If it could, would its tears be seen?
Gah, there it goes again. IT'S SO TRAGIC.
All it wants is love.

All this sunken-feeling-ness makes me feel about her, for some reason.
Because she's the only thing I had for teenage 'romancery'? Only one who showed me le mushiness? Probably.
Till we meet again, I guess. Hope I don't forget you.


I wonder what Love feels like.
Why can't those who preach it describe it, huh Mariam? Huh Van?
Hmmm?
All people have to describe it is 'butterflies'. Or 'listening to more love songs'
Rr.

There goes the dog again.

Sigh.
..
Feeling emo sucks.
Thanks a lot, dog. You started it.

-Zan

Journal "Correct"ions.

"I enjoy playing soccer as it keeps me in shape, allows me to communicate with my friends and improves my sense of working and cooperating with others."

Marked version:

"I enjoy playing soccer as it keeps me in shape, allowing me to interact easily with my friends and improve friendship with others.

Why did she replace "allows" with "allowing"? What does keeping in shape have to do with INTERACTION?
ARG.
And isn't it supposed to be ".. and improves friendship.." instead of ".. and improve friendship.."?


I..
am SO self-sudying this year for.. 'Subject X'. Rrrr.
MISS LEE I MISS YOU.
VAN AND I MISS YOU.

But for now, I shall look like a good, untroublesome student and conform. And conform I will, until the hatred within builds a sculpture high enough within me to reach my mouth.

Also: Tonight is the first night ever that I will shave.
Sigh. Goodbye, good old firstbuds.

-Zan

RECALL

I thought of way back in Primary school, when we had one (very rare) conversation about Polys, JCs, and Where-Do-You-Want-To-Go.

It went something like..
"You want to go to Poly or JC after Secondary school?"
"Dunno leh..."
"You know in Poly don't need uniform but JC must need?"
"HAAA... really ah? Ok then I choose Poly"
"Set?"
"Set."

(Note: some of the horrible Singlish here is exaggerated, what with my vast knowledge of the creole language and all.)

If it only it was that simple now, heh.
We know too much to be happy (in short term).

I also realised how much the previous post made me less troubled about the extra 1 year given by being in the NA stream.
Of course, the only reason it's 'extra is because streams with 4 years exist. Grar.

Oh, and this morning (while I was showering) my mind somehow conjured up this poetic-sounding bunch of words which, as much as it will to you, confuses me:

Look past the sun, the moon, the stars
beyond the planets, Venus, Mars
Beyond it all, beyond the dark
Stark void unknown to us, so far
away that we shall never know
what do you see?
I see
me.


What the poem means,
I haven't the darndest clue. It just popped up in my head.

THRIVIN ON THE ABSOLUT RANDOMNESS, BABY

-Zan

Another 'I Just Noticed How..' moment. *exclamationmark*

I just noticed how much age gaps change in the way the are percieved as time goes on.

Around my age, a Sec one (age 13) would be a lot different than a Sec three (age 15).

But as they grow up and become adults, you'll have them be, say, 45 and 43 (the age gap still is 2 years).
And suddenly, they don't seem that far apart.


Still, I guess, that's not much of a surprise, with puberty and different levels of education seperating us at around this age. By your forties you'd have have a developed yet aged body, and had your education finished. You'd know about the same thing as your younger/older peers, only seperated by experience.
But then again, that could just be two years of being a baby earlier. Not much experience there; our memories usually don't go that far.

Hm..

and that brings me to another question: When, really, do we start being conscious/aware of our surroundings? And when do we know enough about them to start actually gaining 'experience'?

Just a pondering.
And a pondering sprouted from a pondering.
And now, I study for the SS that is to come tomorrow.

There's just something about Mr. Ooi that makes the class accept his telling us of a test on the second day we have SS lessons, instead of going "HAAaaaaaA.... WAH LAU EH"

Mm.
Neat.

-Zan

Erosion is Neat.

These are two of the several photos I took yesterday at the foot of the hill that goes up to Marang Road. Neat little erosion formations I spotted after the heavy rain.
I've even resized them to 1024 x 768 pixels, so I, and you, can use them as a Desktop wallpaper, which is what I have done. Woo.

Explanation for the slow:
The rocks were there, on the ground, and the rain came and washed away all the sand/earth that was around the rocks (the rocks/pebbles acted as 'umbrellas' to the sand beneath them), making the pebble/rocks look like they were on these.. hills. Neat, huh?

(FYI: They're not huge boulders, just pebbles that I took reeally close up. Here's a flipped version of the first picture, which I figure would be better for use as a wallpaper.)

-Zan

Small Things That Were Kinda Annoying, Today

What is it with these people that just stand at the foot of the escalators and just... talk there?! Heck, don't they get the clue from people pushing past them going "excuse me" already?

Also, on the roof of Vivo city, when I was entering the door leading to the roof, there was this woman standing right beside the door, smoking. I don't have a problem with that, but what annoyed me was that the wind on the roof was blowing the smoke across the door's opening, so you got a good direct inhalation of smoke when you entered.
I don't know if I should blame the wind, the woman or the clever person who put the garbage bin-with-a-cigarette-disposal-thing right beside the door.

And Christopher, you SUCK.
Even if I don't really feel angry at you now, YOU SUCK.
SUCK!
I WAITED AN HOUR.

Oh, just remembered: I hate it when people block the card-tappy-gates of the mrts because either
A) Their cards don't work, the screen tells them it doesn't work, but they keep trying.
B) They tap the card with their bags (With EZ-link card inside) but have too much stuff blocking the card from the scanner, and still persist to tapping it again and again.
C) They are tourists who don't know how the tappy-scanner (Or, if you desire fanciness: Card validator) works and keep tapping it on the glass screen.
ATTENTION TOURISTS.
I DON'T MEAN TO BE RUDE OR ANYTHING, BUT WHERE YOU TAP IS












(Hopefully, tourists read this blog.)





(Yeah. right.)


Hm. Anything else to write? No?
Oh, just so I don't forget, I want to find the Fables series of comic books.
And Hunter S. Thompson books, if they can even be found in Singapore.
And those veggie fritter things from the bottom floor of Vivo are the SHIZNIT.

And now that I notice it, I really should have just titled this post "Annoying Things.", to save time and fingerwork.
(Fingerworkout!)

Which reminds me,
does anyone know how to train yourself to have complete control of your fingers and toes?
As in, the ability to curl your index toe downwards without moving the other toes.
And how to curl your pinkie completely inwards without moving the other fingers.
And various others.

And I've been starting too many sentences with the word 'And' here.

Relative pronoun

what

1. (nonstandard) that; which
   • 1902, J. M. Barrie, The Admirable Crichton

     That’s her; that’s the thing what has stole his heart from me.

I'm gonna start using the word "What" in that way more.
Sounds so much more... dramatic. And Shakespearean-ey.

"I shall use the cap what lies on the table."

"You are all what is putrid."

I'm feeling fancier already.

*dash*
*Zan*

-Zan

Squidge. Squidge.

Walked back home in the rain today, arrrr.

Surprisingly to myself, I didn't feel the usual Evil Anger that I felt when walking home in heavy, heavy storms.
I guess this is my new shoes' first experience of wetness. Had to come eventually, I guess.

My forehead is having faint traces of the usual Headache-After-Walking-In-Rain feeling. Uh oh.

Body, you better not get sick.
GO AWAY, HEADACHE. LAST THE HOUR. Or.. minute.

Zan

HAPPY TWELVE O' CLOCK ON THE FIRST OF JANUARY.

What I was doing on the first second of 2007:

Adjusting my watch to 12:00 at the exact time the people over at Vivo screamed "THREE... TWO.. ONE!"

Well, like Christmas, this year the New Year countdown was pretty dull. Olivia, Andrew and gang weren't here, there weren't as many fireworks as last year and, well, the 'spirit' just wasn't there.
Also, we forgot to bring the poppers and sparklers and stuff.

I wonder why we all consider the New Year something to be excited about. Something to be hyped about, to be anticipated. All it is is the completion of Earth's journey around the sun. Again. For the 2007th time. AD anyways.
Is it me, or has almost every event had itself some sort of party, or celebrative event.
Christmas party.
Birthday party. (Or are they the same thing, Christmas being the birthday of Christ anyway.)
Halloween party.
Dance party.
Dinner party.
Housewarming party.
Slumber party.
Et cetera.

I wonder where all our enthusiasm for these things went.
I didn't really celebrate (elaborately) my birthday.
I didn't really celebrate Christmas well.
And, as previously stated, I didn't really celebrate the New Year.

I guess we could say that age has made us see things as they really are. Or, sometimes, only are.
Birthdays are only just a mark of another year into your life, a checkpoint of life as time goes whizzing by.
And speaking about time, I've still got my English and Math homework to finish by this Wednesday, which is when school starts.
And that's just two days away.
Back to the uniforms, the fuzzy bumbling background chatter of students, Van and Devar, the teachers, the unspent minutes of recess, the polo trainings, the early sleep hours, the school life.
And I've still got to write that letter.
I hope I stick to my new daily timetable.
And with O-level Math and English planned, I'd better. Cutting my social life and leisure time off for studying, actually living up to Labor Omnia Vincit, actually aiming not to be the absolute best, but one of the top. (If not, better.)
And there still is Christopher's lessons.
And there may be Xiaolu.

Resolutions for 07:

+To complete my resolutions for 2006 in
2007:
- To work on my site more.
-To create an animation that lasts at least 1 minute.
-To learn a third language.
-To further improve my vocabulary.
-To figure out where I want to go and
what I want to do in life.
-To make a weekly schedule (And stick
to it, too.)

+To be in the top 5 in my level at the
end of the year.

+To improve on all my subjects.

+To especially improve on my Physics.

+To make MT passable.

+To somehow make studying enjoyable.

+To replace my leisure time with this
newfound enjoyable studying.

+To print out a Multiplication table to
the 100s, and an Exponentiation table to
the 12s.

+To update my blog more often.

+To prepare. (For whatever is required.)

+To only start watching the Avatar
episodes on Youtube in June. Or September.

+To read the newspapers a little more.

+To watch as little television as
possible, if at all.

+To improve my CONCENTRATION(!).

+To maintain complete abstinence.

Right now, my list of stuff to finish is:

The letter to Mdm Choy
English Asknlearn homework
English N level book thing.
Math TYS work.

And I just realised how annoying polo might seem to be, with the new sudying mentality I seek to adopt.
I guess I could push myself a little more every training, just to be fit.


Time to throw away that timetable.
Time to throw away enjoyment in resting.
Time to throw away impatience.
Time to forget distraction.
Time to save money.
Time to go kill some trees. (Hey, I'll be making a ton of notes.)

I post every 100 years

The four (consecutive) homeless evenings:

One: I think it was right when I came home from camp, and stayed in the Youthhub (JSSC) for a few hours.

Two: When we went to.. Hewtors to celebrate van's bday, and I came back home about 11-ish

Three: I think I had a meeting at the JSSC riight after polo. Which ended about 8-ish. Damn.

Four: Oh, this one is the best. I woke up with Claire passing me the phone, saying she didn't know who this person was. I took the phone: "do you know who this is?" "Huh? No, who?" "Do you know?" "No.." "Mr Ngian lah! Anyways, blablabaskfdasbndfu..."
Hearing that name.. that voice.. IN THE MORNING.. WAKING ME UP.. sucked enough. He told me that the duedate of this podcast we were supposed to do throughout the month had come, and we hadn't submitted our podcast.

So I rushed to the computer and immediately started with the project with Chun Feng and Devar (They were the only people in the group available at the time).
To make things easier, I went to Chun Feng's house, as he had a recorder there and didn't want to do the thing alone.

As for the afternoon, we spent it redoing the damn thing AGAIN and AGAIN and recording AGAAAIN. It was awesome. >:(
The best part: As I finished recording.. FINALLY.. and we thought it was FINALLY done, his com screwed up. And no, we couldn't save it.

And those are the four consecutive days of which I spent the afternoon/evenings outside. And for me -me- to do that is pretty topsy turvy, I'm sure a few people'd agree..

Let it never happen again.
Maybe.

Campteen:

Bandits, go.
*silence*

that about sums up my first experience with my group alone.

ANYWAYS.
It started with me sitting outside the JSSC at about... 5am. Waiting and waiting and staring at the oh-so-beautiful stars. And then Malina came and laid down too. And then Amanda came and they went to get prad- sorry, prata.

And then Syaz came and wondered where exactly they went for the.. prata.
Meanwhile, many many old men and women were starting something in front of the JSSC. About 5 of them wearing white and red were in front of everyone, and Everyone (The other old people) wer in straight lines, getting ready, for something.
And then the radio (Huge, beatbox-type radio) that the 5 people had started playing, and it played National Day music. National Day Music with this guy going "yi, er, san, si, er, er, san si" (1, 2, 3, 4, 2, 2, 3, 4). And all of them started.. dancing. Or.. stretching or something. Exercising.
BUT IT WAS SO CUTE. AHAHA.

And as the rest of the exco came, and the ball was rolling, and the campers came for the registration, the music changed to this soothing kinda.. 'peaceful pond' music. With a woman going "huuuuu........ xiiiiiiii........ huuuuuu......... xiiiiiiiii" (in... out... in... out. Referring to breath, folks.)

After a few minutes they left, and FINALLY we could start the registration.
Being part of crowd control, ahmad and I had nothing to do then, as there wasn't much of a 'crowd'. So we went to the 7-11 across the road and got food and drinks. As we walked back, Ahmad introduced to me the terms Mat and Minah, which I will not go into. :)

Anyways, skipping the registration, Mariam and I were assigned to the fourth bus. The fourth bus was half-filled with Malays (front) and half-filled with Chinese (back). For the first few hours of the trip to the Sarimbun campsite, the malays were talking and talking and taaalkiiing... and the Chinese were all quiet. Mariam and I thought it was gonna be like this the whole way, heh.

But then for the second part of the 'journey', the Chinese campers started taaalking and talking, and the malay campers were quiet. Weird. Still, I liked it when the Malay campers talked more. They were less "chitchattish", and didn't laugh so horribly loud.

ANYWHAA.
This will be a 'to be continued' moment for now. Nya nyaa.

Bake until Golden-Brown.

Saw this on Van's Blogger blog. Couldn't resist making my own.

HOW TO MAKE A ZAN:

Ingredients:
6 parts Random Brainfarts
5 parts Love for Pencil&Paper
1 part Eyebrows
1 part Grammar
50 parts Romance
0 parts Intelligence
0 parts Stupidity
15 parts Age

Method:
Store 50 parts Romance in freezer until 15 parts Age and 0 parts Intelligence expands to size of liking.
Dump rest into bowl, mix and pour into brain mould. Place brain mould into Zanmould. Serve while warm.


[I am so ruining this. Ahahah.]

Unbirthday?

March 30th, here I come.

Oh man, I've got to get updating this thing again.
Lets see... I have..:

The four homeless evenings
Campteen
And one of the shittier days I've had
and of course,
Bangkok

to post.
(Well, Bangkok will be.. after I come back from Bangkok.)

"Top 5 Computer Capabilities I wish I had in My Life"

1. Undo

2. Search

3. Copy & Paste

4. Redo

5. Debug

.. Petty Judgement?

(Note: The names of the people mentioned in this post have been very slightly edited to prevent myself from getting into trouble.)
(It's become more of a.. "You know who you are" kind of thing.)


Had to make this post after hearing about CF's punishment..

Well. On Friday we had our English lessons, work was being done, there were about 17 minutes to the end of the class, and to our dismissal. Our teacher, Ms X, came over beside CF and asked him why his hair was so.. brown. (It was dyed, of course)
He replied with something along the lines of "Mine isn't as obvious as yours"
"CF, are you comparing yourself with me?"
and that's where it hit the fan.

Now hold on a bit. I know that some people may take a little offence in having their hair dye being pointed out. But what I don't know is why. and why you'd get angry if the hair dye was so blatantly... there.

Now, Ms X's hair was one of those. it was very obviously dyed, we knew that, she knew that, blabla bla. But for some reason, she snapped. "You want to irritate me, right?" "Want to get in trouble, RIGHT?"
She walked to the desk while raising her voice increasingly...
"Ms Lee why are you angry"
"CF KNOWS"


So they went to see Mr Z, our school's Discipline Master, about CF's dyed hair, which is not allowed.
Still, many students walk around the school with dyed hair. Mainly because the lessons we have now are outside the official schooldays.
So.
All Mr Z said was "Why is your hair like that?"
..

.. yeah, that's it.
That's all he said.

And now, CF's punishmentis to write down "I will not irritate Ms X" a THOUSAND times.
Yeah, guess who gave him that punishment.

And that's where I get confused. A little angry, maybe.
Shouldn't the lesson be to never give trouble to your teacherS?
Instead of just a specific teacher.
What I'm saying is, WHY isn't the punishment "I will not irritate my teachers"?

Isn't "I will not irritate Ms X" kind of... selfish?
And isn't punishing a student for pointing out hair dye a little petty?

Jeez.

I say the right way the situation could've played out is

"But yours is more obvious than mine"

"CF, I am a teacher. The rules require that all STUDENTS not dye their hair. And if you compare me to yourself again, I'll give you five demerits."

And that would be all.
No petty discipline.
No overcoming anger.
No subtle hate for the student the rest of the class..
Student knows what not-to-do.


Oh, and this is going in the potential-blackmail list for teacherhood.

Walk Thoughts

I pity the one with the good-looking mate who must tolerate passerby stares.

I pity the one that has great power but no place or event to use it.

I pity the one who has been the best at one thing all their life, only to find somebody better.

I pity the one that must suffer for the happiness of others.

I pity the one that is misunderstood.

I pity the one that blindly conforms.

I love the one that thinks by their own judgement.

I love the one who is not afraid to reject.

I hate the blog program that has disallowed me to post the two posts I posted before.

Saw yet another black person today.
They seem to be all around Singapore lately. Meh.

But the guy I saw today was -special-. He had a white girlfriend. I don't know why, but seeing races being friends or more with other races never fails to make me all choked up (To a small degree.) It's just so... BEAUTIFUL. AJAGAJAGAKA It's just such a great thing to look at.

Started reading V for Vendetta - the comic. The comic the movie is based off. And from the start of this one and the last 'big comic' I read, Watchmen, I am now psychologically compelled to SHUN those that refer to comic books as a kids' thing. As a 'childish' thing. Go read the aforementioned books, you'll see what I'm talking about. Assuming little... things.
I've gotta get blogging more.

I'm compelled to.

"The exams are over".


Oh, and a funny thing about that...
Just a week after the exams ended, I experienced two days of unexplained depression, lethargy and sadness. Of course you could blame the haze and it's toxic toxicness, but I blame the fear of The Overall Grade. That thing is FREAKY.

And about the haze. I don't know whether to love it for its polo-training-preventing capabilities, or to hate it because of the eye-hurt it causes Van, and the blockage of my love for scenic views.

Oh, and I went for polo training today.
It's been... weeks. MONTHS EVEN.
And polo was, well, same old polo. which I shall summarize with the following:

Swim
Swim
Swim
Ball training
Game.


Nothing left to write now. I'll just hope this is interesting, hope more people than Van read this and hope that Van gets her 'daily dose' worth of my blog entries.

AND I HOPE THIS GETS PUBLISHED ON THE BLOG... LETS FIND OUT.. O_O

Boink.

I should really get back to blogging.


Yes.


I really should.

Too Bad

See those two words there in the title? Those two words are offensive, rude words.
BAD, BAD words. Terrifying words.
Words that should never enter the ears of another being.They haunt the very fabric of virtue. Thou shalt not waggle thy tongue to formeth them. Shunned is he who utters the phrase.

Jeez.

Anyways...
Brilliant plan!: As an attempt to gain less of a smartass appearance with a certain teacher of mine, I'll differ from my usual criticizing ways in class and let her teach without my horrible corrections - I'll be a good 'ol, obedient 'ol, quiet 'ol studious kid in her class. I'll pass the Interesting Student title to Van. We all win!

I love it when nobody 'gets' my plans. Of course, my motives won't be explained until they take place, which won't be anytime soon. Until then, BE CREATIVE. THINK.

Oh jea.

Highest for Bio.
2nd for Math.

... Oh yeah.
HOW D'YA LIKE ME NOW DEVAR?!/1!!/!1?!


Anyways, I've been feeding myself with Avatar episodes from Youtube recently. It's not healthy, heh.
Went with Van and our form teacher for this Singtel briefing on this...Moblog competition. For blogging. About anything, but knowing the judges, it's going to have to be all CIVIL... and good-citizen-ey... yuck.

"Blog for a Cause" is the theme. Who doesn't blog for a cause? I blog to relieve boredom and vent and give myself false hope that my thoughts are being read. I guess the only reason for bloging without a cause is... wait. No, there isn't a cause... so there isn't a reason. QED.
Gotta say that she (form teacher) was kind of.. childish there. Sleeping, complaining at certain habits of mine, being "Kay poh"... either she IS childish, or she was trying to be, for fitting-in's sake. No idea, but if she had something to say about it, it wouldn't be the latter (even if it was true... or not) .

Singtel makes great pens.
No, wait.
Singtel gives out great pens. Vietnam makes great pens.


Fun fact: There are eight "..."s in the above paragraph. This last one makes 9. Wee.


dotdotdot.

dot.

mrnmmrmn

Teenagers can be horrible things at their worst.

Note: This does not refer to a particular person, it refers to all of us. I say this so my dear friend Van doesn't get the wrong idea about what I type.

SAYING NO TO DRUGS IS COOL [lies!]

Okay, I've got a few things I've been meaning to put here.. one of them is the title of this entry.
On Friday, when I was going out to something, walking down the hill from our house, I saw in the distance... our neighbour. One of our newer neighbours, whom we seldom talk to, but still say "Hi" to(to be friendly).

Well, he was about 15m away from me, I could see him, he could see me, and according to the Law of The Universe, you only say Hi when you're close enough to see his ear detail (or something). So as we walked to each other NOT saying anything... we just tried looking away from each other... looking at each other awkwardly, until we were close enough to go "Hi!" and walk on.

I hate it when that happens. GARHASJSDF


Oh, and on the way home from school I saw, on a van windshield, a sticker with the words (and I kid you not,) "SAYING NO TO DRUGS IS COOL".
You know that's a lie. Drugs are cool. That's the running reason why people take them. You can't lie to us. And saying NO to drugs is NOT cool. "cool" isn't responded to with "BAWK, BAWK, CHICKEN IS IT?!"

Now, don't take me wrong, I don't take drugs. I HATE BODYKILLERS. And my protest is, drugs are cool, but taking them isn't very clever. The joy you get out of them is probably short-lived, and you just crave for more, and MORE, till you go crazynuts.
SAYING NO TO DRUGS MAY NOT BE COOL, but it sure has no regrets.

Oh, and here are pictures from yesterday, Van, Devar, Jeremy, Chun Feng, Joe and I went out to work on the horrible CME project (Which we have yet to complete, TODAY). I taught them the Joy of Wikipedia, which was a big part of our research. HA.
Oh, and I discovered HOW CHEAP THE STUFF AT BREADTALK IS. ONE DOLLAR. FOR EVERYTHING. ANYTHING. YESYESYES

Oh, Jeremy and I were pretty tired after that, but van was still all shiny and bouncy, and WASN'T SUPPOSED TO TAKE THIS PICTURE:














Anyways, most of them were pretty disgusted to learn that I hadn't showered before going out, heh.



One more thing:
Claire has been acting pretty... assy recently. I still blame MTV, especially that Sweet Sixteen show. Showing girls getting EEEVERYTHING THEY WANT. Spoilage. Spoilage.

Then she switches on to a little REAL LIFE, where you actually have to be good to get what you want, and expects us all to serve her.
I pity that. I just.. don't like it.

(I wonder if being a Nihilist has any use?)
(No, not really..)
(Has it?)

Small Observae-shunnnnnn

Noticed today in the mrt station that about 90% of the people walking around have one hand occupied with something. Be it holding a bag, newspapers, someone's hand, scratching their ass, the hand is never free. Only one hand does the swaying.

Also noticed that, for oral exams, or tests, the "Conversation" bit isn't really conversation. More of an... interview really. Teacher introduces topic, student gives opinions. Teacher asks question, student answers, et cetera.

Because I want to post it. I don't care if you won't get it.

Mr Chng was right.
I'll never doubt him again.


IT
This sucks because it's forced.
This sucks because will is challenged.
This sucks because it can't be told.
This sucks because lies must be told.
This sucks because the equality isn't.
This sucks because it has to suck.

*sigh*

Don't ask, and I tell nothing.
Ask, and I tell nothing.
Continue asking, and I tell nothing.

MRT tip #2.

MRT TIP 2

Say there are two seats in front of you. A person is in one of those seats. If you do not take the empty seat at first, do not take it even after the person has left. If you do, you will be forver thought of by the surrounding people as a jerk who won't sit with people. The situation will be worse if the person who left is of a different race. Then you would be the racist jerk who doesn't sit with [insert race here].

MRT tip #1.

MRT TIP 1
In the MRT, if you wish to fart in public, do NOT do it while standing still. Do it when walking past people. This way there are two outcomes:

1: People will suspect the person beside them, as you have already passed the people.

2: If the person knows it's you, at least you've walked away far enough to avoid embarassment.

ARGH. NO. NO. NOO. Just.. NO.

Here I am, broken hearted to realise that school reopens on MONDAY(?!) and not the END OF JUNE?

SHIT.
SHIT.

Pride of the Ones

I've been searching for the following things on Ebay, but if any of you have them, and don't want them anymore, FEEL FREE TO SEND EM OVER:

=Lego blocks. As many as possible.

=Silly putty (that stuff that comes in a plastic egg, kinda like dough.)

=Prismacolour markers. *drool* (Doubt anyone has these. Besides, they're too AWESOME to give away.)

In other news.
Inform the presses! I've found another Friendster trend:
More and more users are using the term 'Single and proud of it!' in their profiles..

Methinks.. no, meknows this is a clever ploy for other people to consider them. Cause nobody admits they're single, PUBLICLY, for nothing. Especially with a long line of photos of your face looking up at the camera with sparkling eyes and pursed lips. Jeez.

PS: I'm single, and proud of it.
call me.

I don't speak that dialect.

To the person who directed the commercial with the following sentence:

There's one language we all speak.
Football.

CURL UP AND DI-
I mean...

.. I don't like you.
Stereotyping piece of poopoo.
On that note, WHY DOES ALMOST EVERYONE SEEM TO LIKE FOOTBALL SO MUCH. ARGH.
Leave comments. I need a good answer.


Now, for Part 2 of this magically happy entry.

I've gone through the Friendster list, and noticed that half of the 'Friend's on it are people I barely talk to. Sure, I've seen a few at school, subtle glances while walking past each other, but that would be the highest form of contact I have with these people.

Most of them add me. I really can't brag about this, because I can't add who I don't know. Now, when I look at the same peoples' profiles, they have about over 300 friends, 100 at minimum. This scares me. This means people are going around Friendster adding and ADDING people for no reason... yeesh.
This also drives me even further to my 'theory' that people only use Friendster for seeing peoples' pictures. Sneaky little weasels.

Part 3:
I would fill this bit in with my dreams of last night and the night before, but certain people I know read this blog, and it's just too embarassing (The corny kind.) to let em out. So ha.
So all you get is this wonderful video, which is definitely compensation enough if you ask me:

Going for an English.

READ BEFORE WATCHING:
For those who don't get it..
In Britain, English people usually go to Indian restaurants (I hate the way that word is spelt) on Friday nights, and call it 'Going for an Indian'. This is the Indian version.

Part 4, because I keep coming up with stuff to add:

I've noticed a trend going 'round Messenger, where people (usually girls) have scary, fear-striking nicnames like "SHUT UP ALL OF YOU, LEAVE MI LIFE ALONE :'("
but when you start talking to them:

"Hi."
"hi"
"What's with the nicname?"
"nth la lol"

There are names with a suicidal gist too, like "nobody luvs mi, sumtimes gonna feel lik killing myslf"
But they still speak chirpy and sunshine-filled on conversations.

.. Creepy.

Pondering.

I was wondering why every country in the world (except maybe China) uses the same 'year system' as Christians do? The whole B.C and A.D thing. Not all religions have Christ in them, so why does everyone judge the current year from each year counting from AD?
Pondering, pondering..

and why don't more people use solar panels? UNLIMITED ENERGY, MAN. FEWER ELECTRICITY BILLS.

Just a few thoughts.

PS: I miss playing with silly putty. I wonder if anyone sells it any more..

Ouch.

Cycled to Sentosa with my dad and Claire yesterday. Used my elder sis' (Vic) bike cause mine was getting too small for me, proven by my knees touching the handlebars.

Does anyone else think that bicycle seats are too... thin? Who designed these things?
Anyways, because of the very uncomfortable bike seat, I woke up this morning with a very painfully aching 'rear-end'.


Man this hurts.
Ow.

The Pleasure of Sucking.

I just can't help but laugh at the Chupa-Chups' slogan that appears, ON TV, everyday:

"Chupa Chups, the pleasure of sucking"

AHAAHAHAAAHAHAA

Oh wait, there's more on their site:

"Sucking is good for you! Find out why!"

AHAHA, I am SO finding out.

"1: IT'S natural
2: IT STIMULATES your immune system
3: IT MAKES YOU feel good!
4: IT STOPS those bad habits!"

AHAHA. LETS ALL GO SUCK ON THINGS MORE. IT MAKES ME FEEL GOOD!
AHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHA

Short message to the Annoying.

MY LAST NAME IS NOT B__N.
It is M___l.
B__N IS HALF OF MY MIDDLE NAME.
A________ B___ S____ M_____.

B___ S____ IS AN ENGLISH INTERPRETATION OF MY MANDARIN NAME, 'W__ X____'.

My last name is M_____.
M_____.

Got it?

GOT IT SHAUN?!

Another thing, I don't have a list of people whose blogs I know of... BECAUSE I can't work the html.

[July,2,2009 - cens0rzed!]

Post fuzzy time.

Today my fuzzhead was revealed to the world. At polo training.
Not much, but they like it. :D
Surprisingly, I didn't get any

"OH MY GOD"

"YOU STUPID IDIOT, AHAHAHAHAA"

"YOU, AHAHAHAHA... AHAHAHAAHAHAHA YOU LOOK LIKE A COCONU-"

Yep, I didn't get any of that. Lucky me. Yay!
(PS: To that guy-playing-football-with-trunks-and-SHOES-on, you looked... REALLY gay. No offense.)

After polo I went out with Van, Nat and DEVAR.
I can't believe I didn't foresee Van calling the new haircut 'CEEEUUUUTE' tho. That was a shocker. She even shouted it at first sight!
Oh, and she is, as of my counting, the second person to rub my fuzzy head. First is me.
So Devar didn't know it, but he looked very.. very VERY corny. Hip-hop corny.
He had pants pulled down so far you could fit a balloon between his crotch and his pants-crotch.

(Sorry Devar, I know you don't wear that kinda underwear.)
Chains on his wrist, hair styled to the maximum, eyes squinted, head cocked up, and to top it all off, the subtle rubbing of his... DAMN EVER-GROWING GOATEE. You dick, you.
(PS: Hair growth post-mortem DOES NOT EXIST, DEVAR.)

We had fun popping bubble tea bubbles from the straws. Van and Devar were kinda disgusted-looking tho. Damn their mock-maturity. You know that shit is fun.

Fuzzy.

I just went to get my baldy haircut. It feels... fuzzy.

So I walked to the barber, in the hot sun, causing the back of my neck to go all itchy for no reason. What kept me going was the fuel of having that ever-wanted-by-myself buzzcut.

When I got there I explained the cut right away, "everywhere, same length. No, not just hair on top and nothing on the sides. Everywhere, same length."This barber has been cutting my hair for years, and keeps saying stuff like "You can do really nice stuff with your hair", and so on. I guess he wasn't too happy about doing a fuzzy, short, short, SHORT CUT on me. So he gets out the buzzer, puts the little comb on it, and mows it off... except for the fringe. The fringe he cuts short with a comb and scissors.

So when he's done with the fringe, I tell him I 'don't want a fringe'.
He holds my head and pushes up my fringe with his hand and goes "That's what you want? It might look quite ugly ahh..hh..."
I look at him and go 'Yep!'.
He stares at me and dark, billowing clouds of rain form above his shiny head. He doesn't like this. But he does it anyway.

So he's done with everything, my hair is really short, comprende for him, and I go 'Uh, just a biiit shorter.'

He stares at me with a facial expression that can be described as "WHAT THE HELL. YOUR HAIR WAS NICE AND YOU WANT IT SHORTER?!1!11!!"

He does it quick. I pay 'im, and get outtathere, beaming and brushing my head. Weeee!
Fun fact: hair grows at a speed of 0.44mm per day. If I let my hair grow during the holidays, I should get just 1.32 more centimetres of hair. Yay!

AHAHAHAHA I LOVE MY HAIR:
HAIR BENEFITS:

I get lesser dandruff.
I know what the shape of my head actually looks like now.
I DON'T HAVE A HUGE PUFFY COWLICK. WOO.
Don't need to go to the barber for months.
Hats are easier to wear.
Blows of wind are easier to feel.
The skin on my head won't be pale-white all the time.

:D

(Gosh, I wonder what my sister's gonna say when she comes back from camp today..)