Friday, December 28, 2007

--

omgosh, omgosh.

:D


| so spoken! @ 12:49 PM|

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Tuesday, December 25, 2007

-merry xmas :D-

MERRY XMAS :D

--

Things that make christmas the best holiday of all time:

-walking down orchard roads as slowly as you like
-jostling people walking along orchard road
-singing and dancing to old carols
-staying out late
-spending two hours on your outfit and face
-camwhore-ing as much as humanely possible because you actually look good, for once
-poking your head out of the sunroof and screaming 'MERRY XMAS' to random passer-bys, causing many people to stare back and drop whatever they are holding
-eating (because the food is all good)


I love Christmas.

:D



| so spoken! @ 10:38 PM|

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Wednesday, December 19, 2007

-literary blockage-

oww, sorethroat ):

ow ow ow ow ow.


| so spoken! @ 8:53 PM|

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Tuesday, December 18, 2007

-haha!-

Real smart, people :D


| so spoken! @ 10:10 PM|

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Thursday, December 13, 2007

-stupid bra ads.-

I was in a horrible mood, I wanted to go home. I was in a horrible mood, the MRT station was crowded, I was going to overheat and die, and I wanted to go home.

What was in my way? People. And more people. They were all bunched up at the MRT gates, moving really slowly. Like they were moving in water. And unless it flooded and we turned amphibian within the hour, it shouldn't take that long to pass through the bloody MRT gates. I wanted to scream at them. I wondered moodily what was wrong with the lot of them, then happened to glance up. And then I realised.

The TV-thingamajiggy that usually screens videos about public transport safety and terrorism? It wasn't there. Instead of some serious-looking guy in a white shirt telling us to please inform our staff or call 999 about suspicious articles, there was a woman wearing nothing but a black frilly bra, pouting over her shoulder.

It was a freaking Triumph bra-ad.

At the MRT station. And the reason why everyone was moving so slowly was because the men were watching the ad. They were glancing up every nanosecond or other, and thus causing the gush of slow traffic behind them. What the hell.

After I got over missing my bus and fuming at SMRT, I thought over the matter. And I have a question.

So you advertise your product over the MRT gates. As much as I hate that, I have to admit that it is somewhat a good idea.

The only thing is, your ad contains a half naked woman brandishing skimpy clothing. Who will look at half-naked women in skimpy clothing the most? Men. And hello world? Men don't buy bras. Unless they have boobs. And if they do then they're not considered men.

I say, if you want to get the attention of women who actually buy your products, get some men to swing bras around.


| so spoken! @ 11:35 PM|

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Wednesday, December 12, 2007

-i wants.-

I WANT A PUPPY :D


| so spoken! @ 10:26 PM|

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Monday, December 10, 2007

-how i realised the reopening of school would be almost hell.-

I went to get my books on Thursday.

I wore one of my best shirts, my best jeans, and matching heels. I figured, hey, I'm going to school. I might meet somebody I like there and knock their socks off. Or more likely, I'll meet someone I don't like, and then knock their socks off because they'd be in uniform having CCA (and I'll be the hot stuff).

Anyway, point is.

We passed the oh-so-familiar roads. The traffic junctions I know almost as well as I know the back of my hands. The front gates of my school. My mood dipped, dipped some more, and then some. I didn't realise just how generally upset and negative just going to school would make me. It totally sucked, even though I was really just going to school.

I moped my way out of the car, scowling darkly at the stark familiarity of the everything around me, and up the steps to the general office. I didn't care how I looked anymore, and I wasn't looking out for people to spite either (as I had fantasized about). I just wanted out as soon as possible, so we could get to my sister's school and buy her books, after which I could go home and sleep my terrible mood away.

The less time I spent at the bloody phrontistery the better. It was, after all, eating away at my holidays.

When the security guard saw me approaching along with a thunder storm, however, she told me the bookshop was closed and that I should have read the booklist more carefully, it clearly stated the specific days in which the bookshop would be open.

It took awhile for the words to register, and then I beamed up at her and asked (chirped, rather) her where I could get my IC.

My bad mood slowly slipped away on the way to my sister's school (so many memories, I love primary school), and by the time we got to Popular to get my books and stationery, I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed again.

I won't pretend I understand why my stupid secondary school has such an effect on me, because I really don't. I never liked going to school and I don't think I ever will. Sure, the lessons can be interesting. Sure, the people can (notice the word and the italics) be nice. Sure, there are some very few days in school I actually recall enjoying. Sure, I feel good being an actual student and living (I will highlight in another post the difference between living and surviving, if I remember).

But I hate school. Point-blank.

If there was a reason why I don't need to drag my sleepy, uncooperative ass out of bed every morning, throw on my uniform, then get myself to a place full of people I don't want to know, I snatch at it with my full body weight; and I do.

Well, don't I need an attitude adjustment. I tell you, the moment I realised I wasn't enjoying secondary life like I visualised myself doing, I sat down in my little bernice thinking corner and thought of all the reasons why I wasn't enjoying it, and what should be done in order to correct that. If it worked at all, I would be looking forward to school reopening.

In the end, I thought, well.. fuck that. I don't have time to figure it out. I'll just get through it, and then everything will be perfect. Who cares about enjoying myself, it's just four years. And then I'll be free to do whatever the hell I want to.

After the O levels (I'll study hard and do well, you'll see), I'd gather a few friends and we'd go overseas. We'd save and scrimp, then go for a long vacation at some beachy island. Living off cheap hotel food and skinny-dipping in the beautiful sparkling waters. Snogging hot strangers and then leaving them hanging dry. Waking up at three in the afternoon and watching the sun set every evening. We'd be living the life.

Take that, you controlling, manipulative bastards.

I tell you, there are so, so many reasons why I should never even consider going to JC.

(And I wonder how long the determination to do well will last, it'd better last long.)



| so spoken! @ 12:07 AM|

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