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Wednesday, December 24, 2008

While I was looking through Youtube today, I found this:



Before seeing this, I'd never realized that film had been around for so long; I always thought film was a creation of the 20th century, but apparently it's been around since the later years of the 19th century. But there's technology for you: the camera obscura has been around since 1685, and I didn't know that either.

The fact that fragments of human history are still around like this, preserved and made available to the public makes my heart go pitter patter. I mean, how amazing is this? A little over a hundred years ago, there was already film. People lived lives then, and before then, and we're still living it now. Then, film was a tedious process. Now, we take videos of anything and everything from tiny little camera phones. Special effects were limited and considered ground-breaking. Now, we have software that create almost human-like animation (like FF7: Advent Children).

There was some quote I read some time ago, about being in this world and yet not believing in its wonders; it would have been appropriate if I'd actually remembered it, pfft.

Anyhoo, merry Christmas to everyone out there while I'm at it. ♥

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written at 9:50 PM

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Christmas is coming up in two days, and seeing as I greatly dislike the artificial, commmercial cheer that's generally prevalent around this unfortunate time, I'd rather blog about something else than how pretty the decorations at Orchard Road this year are, or how crowded but lovely the shopping malls are. (Okay, so the decorations are pretty, but. Whatever.)

Still, I guess Christmas is a blogworthy thing, so here I go.

Santa Claus (aka Sandy Claws for those enlightened ones who have watched The Nightmare Before Christmas and actually know who Jack Skellington is, other than a random skeleton decorating so many purses and bags and etc now) apparently appears in many sources.

The most common one that people know of is Saint Nicholas, a Greek Christian bishop who lived in a province of the Byzantine Anatolia- which in modern times would be in Turkey. He was famous for his generousity- a story of his in particular records him giving gifts of gold coins to three extremely impoverished sisters so that they wouldn't have to become prostitutes. (There is a lot I could say about women's rights in the past, but this post is about Santa after all.) In one version, he throws the purse down the chimney, and it lands in the stockings which one of the sisters had washed and left out to dry, which would explain the tradition of leaving Christmas presents in stockings. (Not like we practice it here though. And there's no chimneys around here. Meh.)

Interestingly enough, Saint Nicholas is not only one of the theorized origins of Santa Claus, but he is also the patron saint of quite a few things: children (well, duh), sailors, fishermen, merchants, repentant thieves, prostitutes, pawnbrokers, the falsely accused and of many cities. Santa Claus is a very busy man, it seems, even outside of the holiday season.

Another source draws similarities between the Nordic god Odin, and Santa Claus; both are portrayed as bearded and wise old men, and Odin apparently gives gifts too, though less selflessly as Santa Claus. Before Christmas, there was a Germanic holiday called 'Yule' (this is where Yuletide comes from, guys), and on the eve of Yule, children would leave out things like carrots, hay and sugar in their boots near the chimney for Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged horse. In return, Odin would gift the children as thanks for Sleipnir's food.

This practice was continued, but meshed into the existing Christian traditions of the time as Christianity continued its growing influence over the rest of the world.

Actually, sometimes, I think it's amazing how Christianity managed to convert so many, by taking the holidays of other religions and making them their own. IMO, it's a smart and tactical move, since it's a compromise on both parties' part (i.e. the Christians and the 'pagans'), and well. You just have to look at the world's current stand on religion to know hw effective that has been. Doesn't mean I like it any better though.

For example, recently there has been an article that says Jesus' birthday may actually have been on the 17th of June; however, to the Joe on the street, Jesus was born on the 25th of December. But originally, as mentioned above, the 25th of December was Yule, and less famously, it is the day after winter solstice. In Greek mythology, the 25th was a day when people held a feast in Apollo's name to implore him to bring the sun back after winter (and therefore spring). There was a similar festival for the Romans, who apparently had this day marked for Sol Invictus (who's basically the Roman incarnation of Apollo, but created by a king, and anyway, I have no love for the Roman culture), but that is just repetition.

So. The origins of Christmas in a nutshell; there are various other sources for this, and Wikipedia although not always accurate, is a very good starting point for research. Oh, and Christianity is apparently really good at appropriating other dates too, since they were pretty much downtrodden and unpopular in the past; Easter is another date that they snagged from the 'pagans'. (Eostre was the goddess of the spring, and Easter was her day originally. I think if the gods were real, they'd be fuming so much right now.)

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written at 9:06 AM

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Christmas is a totally overrated thing for one, and for another, the 'goodwill' that festivities seem to force out of people in general is a little... well. Forced.

I've started work as a part-time admin assistant of sorts in my mother's office recently, but apparently sales have been slow, so I get stuck with all the lame things that nobody else in the office really wants to do, like replacing the addresses ('cos the company just moved) on their various catalogues and stuff, and sending out e-cards.

Yes. E-cards. I am so not kidding you.

People who work in offices might have gotten those annoying e-cards already, since it's so close to Christmas. You know, those generic free ones you get from say, 1-2-3 Greetingcards or somesuch site, with tacky animation and tacky music and generic messages of good wishes and all that jazz. On my part, I privately thought that I might have to strangle anyone who sent me a card like that from their companies. Hopefully, I'll never get to work in one of those companies. Getting cards from NTUC and companies and etc is already bad enough, because it's just an automated thing that you get since they have your birth date on record, but getting tons of it from other people in companies you barely see a few times a year to liaise with and people you don't really know? Pfffft.

It's a little insincere and it just reeks of office politics, which I don't really care for.

On the other hand, have a happy, corporate Christmas with all its capitalist overtures and overrated and tacky music and festive cheer. <3

But, cynicism and etc aside- I never really liked kids. Actually, I still don't really like kids, and I can't handle people below 15 or 16 quite well. Still, I have to admit defeat to the class of six I'm currently teaching, 'cos they're way too cute. *flail*

Right so, I tend to wear a lot of rings usually, and kids being kids, they were all like "TEACHER TEACHER! Are you married?" (I have no idea why, but students apparently like asking their teachers and lecturers and etc really personal questions. XD)

I was halfway through writing a question on the board, so naturally I got a little surprised. But I kind of got out a reply that was something like, "I'm nineteen, I don't think I'll be getting married anytime soon." And they, being twelve year olds and precocious things, shot back, "But you have a ring on your ring finger! YOU MUST BE MARRIED!"

Even I am no proof against such childish adorable-ness.

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written at 11:45 PM

Friday, December 12, 2008

Okay, I'll admit it- I'm pretty much close to having the mouth of a sailor's, and well. I don't give a shit about it. Apparently other people do though, because I keep getting lectured on it.

My mother tells me to be more ladylike with my language. Okay, I can understand that because she's my mum and I know she feels obliged to keep me from swearing at least in her presence- I'm pretty much sure she doesn't care though unless it's done excessively, and my basis for this is because I've let slip 'fuck' in front of her a couple of times when she doesn't remember that she has to be some sort of model mother, and she didn't care. :D

On the other hand, I feel deeply indignant when other people tell me to shut the fuck up in an informal situation. Hello. It's not even like I swear that much (fucking shut your own fucking mouth, you fucking fucker), and furthermore, you are not people that I'm meeting for the first time. You're supposed to be (kind-of) friends right? And I was just saying "Goddamnit, it's fucking hot today". It's not like I was all "KNNBCCB" over some minor thing like getting served the wrong drink. (Yes, it's a different thing altogether. I might sound hypocritical, but I have clear labels in my head on what means what and what's appropriate for what. I think it might have something to do with swearing at other people and trying to be cool as opposed to using the word as an emphasis for your feelings. Or well, something like that, idk man).

And then recently, I wrote a drabble (Poltergeist at my sparkling-new writing blog, to be shameless), and it contained the word 'fuck'. Twice. (Only twice, JFC.)

One of my friends read it and she said that she liked it, but she really dislikes having said word in her reading material.

Now, she's a really nice person, and I think she's very sweet, but sometimes I think people like this are unbelievable. How do they exist like that?! And to boot, if I remember correctly, she's like what, thirty? HONESTLY.

Or maybe I'm just too vulgar for my own good. I like being this way though, so fuck off, all of you people who insist on virginally correct English.

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4 bullets shot

written at 12:29 AM

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Oh my god, it's been a totally busy fortnight, and damn, do I need my sleep. No rest for the wicked just yet though- I still have costumes to make and Christmas cards to make/send out and homework to finish before January rolls around. Whooey, some sort of holiday this is turning out to be- not that I can really complain, because it's half fun and games, and whatever work there is, isn't something I detest either. I just wish I could grab a bit of a break, but eh. I guess I'll have all the time in the world when school breaks for 'summer' vacation in May. Seriously man, THREE friggin' months of holidays. I can hold out.

Anyhoo, I took up jogging some time this week, after three years of non-regular exercise ever since I left secondary school, and surprise surprise- my stamina's better than when I was sixteen. Huh. I'm not even sure how it works, but I guess I've been more active lately. My sister and I are nowhere near 'fit' just yet (although she's running to achieve her bikini bod), but I think we're on the right track. D For one, we're running more consistently than in secondary school, and isn't secondary school when you're supposed to be more fit and all? I feel accomplished, but we'll see how long this streak of insanity lasts until I give up again.

I should stop being so horrible about exercise. Whatever happened to healthy living?

Oh, and anyway, last last Friday, I managed to snag an sms invite to Zirca, the new club in town. I've never been clubbing before, and my opinion has always been that clubbing is boring. I mean, I have better things to do, like sit at home and paint/draw, or write, or talk to friends and well- more productive things. In general. (Although I can't really say that reading fanfics and etc is productive, but whatever.) Zirca totally changed my opinion though- and I think Cynthia was a huge influence too.

Actually, without Cynthia, I probably might have never gone clubbing in my entire life. As it was, she organized a huge outing with the ex track team of our secondary school, but in the end, because everyone was broke, she shifted it to the 6th of Dec. I won't be attending that because meh, I'm broke.

But. Back to the clubbing thing.

Since I got the sms invite for free entry, I thought, what the heck, and threw myself headlong into it; I called Cynthia, only to get dragged into a fiasco involving wigs and thicker makeup than I usually wear (i.e. none) and clothes that I've always wanted to wear but don't because everyone else around me usually dresses so casually (we can't help it- we're sloppy designers/artists). I had some wigs from cosplay, so Cynthia picked up a neon-red one (don't ask really) and I wore a blond one. At first, I was kind of worried that blond would be too obvious, but when Cynthia's wearing neon red, I figured I couldn't really complain. And plus, she wanted to dress up as a trashy whore at first, but then we couldn't go that extreme, so she just went like a rock whore.

Rock whore is totally a profession btw.

Oh, and this is entirely unlikely, but we scoured Chinatown of all places to get Cynthia's stuff- and we found sequined tops, sparkly suspenders and hot pants at OG and People's Park. Dayumn. I mean, usually you think of Chinatown as fuddy-duddy and then suddenly you have these getai-esque clothes staring you in the face. We wanted to get a gold bra for her to wear inside her hoodie, but then it looked too trashy even for what she wanted to dress as, so we ditched that idea.

We tried to camwhore in the taxi, but it was way too dim, and our camwhoring skills sucked, so no photos there.

I was kind of nervous when we started queuing, but then the bouncer saw our wigs, and he was like "Hey I like that", and somehow I felt better. I mean, I don't really mind being outrageous, but somehow, wearing a wig to a club reeked of otaku-ism to me because I've always associated wigs with cosplay only, and I was tempted to cop out of my promise to Cynthia at first that I'd be crazy with her and wear wigs together. Fffft. And it helped that the door bitch who let us in was really pretty and nice.















Taken after the event.

I was totally impressed when I went into the club though, and kind of apprehensive at the same time. We met Cynthia's friend Skylar when we entered the club, and we walked around for a bit. Rebel and Yello Jello weren't open at that time yet, I think, so it was only the trance floor and the VIP rooms (which obviously we couldn't enter) that were open at that time. Still cool.

And ooooh, I squeed so bad at this. Fucking adorable please. <333 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-e.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v695/210/78/768042305/n768042305_1592436_6310.jpg">

Zirca has fucking awesome decor. I really love the concept of the place, the interior design and everything. They had a stage next to the dance floor, and there was a screen there that flashed LED lights in words- 'sexy', 'lick', 'caress', 'move', and etc. It was waaaay amusing.
The DJ, and the pink neon lights there are the LEDS flashing saucy words at the rest of the club. They weren't kidding when they said they were burlesque style too, btw, because. Just have a look at the female toilet.



I think it's just me, but I adore checkers like this. The colour seems a bit off here- it looks a little pinkish in the photo, but from what I remember, it was totally black/red.

Also, lazy to upload more photos, so this is the end of the photo spam- I've been writing this entry since the Monday after the event (i.e. I've been procrastinating for an entire fucking week), so I'm just going to zoom through the rest of the entry and my night.

Cynthia dragged me onto the dance floor because hell, I'd be one of the first people ever to admit that I can't really dance. But I saw some dorky people there, and no one was really looking at them, so I just joined in. :D It's always better to know that there are people worse than/the same as you, especially when it comes to something this public. Makes the whole experience more endurable.

The music was pretty awesome for the first part of the night, and it wasn't bad as time flew from 11 to 12 to 1. And OH. THE DANCERS. Fucking amazing pls. There were two bridges above the dance floor, and occasionally a couple of dancers would appear and move their way through the entire bridge, side to side. First up were some really hot ladies with huge feathery fans, and then there were guys in hiphop gear. They paraded on the stage too, and everytime the dancers did, the entire dance floor just stopped to gawk at them. Well, I mean they were still moving, obviously, but no one was really dancing anymore.

Stage: needs more sexay and appearances, kthx.

And that wraps up the thing- except for one last complain, which is mostly about the clubbers than anything else. Alright, I know it's common to see people snogging their hearts out and groping each other in clubs, but for a person who FUCKING DETESTS PDA? God. I almost never want to step into another club. Cynthia says there are other clubs whose patrons are way worse- like, she saw unclothed people before, but this is just. JFC. I saw this really cute guy who reminded me of Louis Garrel, but guess what. Do not need to see you playing tonsil-hockey with your girlfriend everytime I turned my head. I settled for turning to face the stage instead.

PDA. Ugh.

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written at 2:01 AM

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

So, I have a review for Drawing Development on Friday, and I haven't gotten the requisite work all done yet, so I went off to the ACM today to finish up my piece of a boddhisatva statue. It seemed a little cloudy when I set out, but otherwise okay, so I held my hopes and didn't dash for the ACM as fast as I should have.

KNN.

The skies started pouring on me like halfway through from Clarke Quay station, and in the end, I waded through the puddles to ACM. I didn't really dare to look at anyone, because my sneakers were squeaking something awful on the floors, and they were leaving wet prints all over, to boot. Luckily no one came to bitch me out about my sopping wet shoes and the water that'd accumulated all over my portfolio. Ugh.

Rain aside, I got the picture done- and boy, do I regret not going earlier with my classmates. As awesome as the place is, with all its porcelain statues and stuff, the gallery is kind of creepy. And knowing that there are equipment from a headhunter tribe (complete with a carved-on skull- which looked really cool despite it having once belonged to a living and breathing person) did not exactly help.

Anyhoo, went off to the airport afterwards- I was supposed to get another picture done, but I was partly all flopped out because of the earlier three hours spent on my boddhisatva picture, and partly disgusted by the thought of drawing humongous architecture, so I gave up, took a picture and went home.

The joys of slacking. I love procrastination.

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written at 9:53 PM

Sunday, November 16, 2008

God, what is it with bigots and their stupidly narrow-minded view of the world?

Oh, wait. Yeah.

So I have this friend right, who's gay, and who had one of the worst encounters ever. Some guy befriended him over MSN/Friendster/I don't really know actually, and my friend being the open and trusting person he is, was like "Oh hey, he's kind of cute and he seems nice. :D Why not give it a go?"

Then that jerkface, after some conversations with my friend (who shall be named G here), dared to tell G things like "G, I just can't stand how capriciously you CARRY OUT YOUR ACTIONS and YOUR LOUD ANNOYING BEHAVIOUR. Plus, you're over random." and "Well, if you have pimples and all that, at least cover it with makeup alright. I can't be seen going out with an ugly guy."

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, DUDE?

But anyway, not the point here. G cried a bit, then got mad and then bitched him out. Good for you, G! 8D

The point of this post is to highlight the bigotry of certain people in SGCafe. So what if G is gay? This is the 21st century, when people should have stopped being "eeee, you're a homo? What's that? Is being homosexual a disease?" (Some people might argue that yes, it is, but that's them, and they're bigots. <3)

"He only meet guys, so how will he be able to agree that girls are superficial as well? Anyway, So does that mean that if this guy isn't cute, you won't give him a chance? 90% of men are superficial. They go for looks. You aren't the 10% consider from your post. Don't act like a girl, you are a guy, you just crossdress only." (Puh-lease. Everyone's superficial when they don't have enough of anything else to judge. Looks are just easier to go by. And he's not acting like a girl, you motherfucker.)

"don't mind me but. This two points seem to hint that ur a guy, and that Bryan is also a guy, and that u both are gay? O.O" (Er. Yeah, he's gay. What's with that face? Is it so shocking to know that there are homosexuals around you? Please don't flatter yourself that they want to jump you.)

"lol i cant understand wat the heck r u all talking bout ...so its bout a guy dating a guy n i cant understand anymore omg" (Do you need a brain transplant, dearie?)

"guy love guy = .. .. .. ERROR. lawl" (No. It's called homosexuality, you great ninny. <3)

Seriously, guys. What is it about homosexuality that makes people think that you can ask anything of a homosexual/bisexual and expect they'll answer? Like, I used to have a girlfriend, and that just brought out all the perving instincts in guys- one of them just straight out asked me what I did with my girlfriend, and that he wanted to know because he wanted to fantasize about two lesbians. Why would I tell you anything at all, in the first place? You're just some random guy I just met, and hell, that is just plain rude. It's like being bisexual or gay means that random people get to ask you stupid stuff or make stupid declarations. (Like, my classmate? Said that homosexuality was a hormonal problem. Fuck you. Said classmate and I are now on good terms though- it was just him blurting things out without thinking, and not him being a bigot, as I soon discovered, so. Yeah, I can be prickly, I know.)

Fucking closet-minds.

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written at 1:20 PM

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Blargh, false alarm. Turns out that the secondary/adult English class won't start til there're enough students to form a class. Primary class starts next week. I'm still not quite sure how to teach them.

But anyway. So Cynthia came over on Tuesday night, and we pretty much spent part of the time reminiscing on our secondary school days. (Fuck, do I feel old.)

I don't really recall much about my class really- secondary school was one long blur of tediousness interrupted by my occasional bit of social life (mostly outings with fellow cosplayers and etc). I slacked a lot, rushed my homework, was on vaguely friendly terms with most of my classmates, and I think to them, I was The Girl Who Likes to Draw. Like, a lot. Which was fine by me anyway.

So yeah. Then Cynthia mentioned that one of the popular girls in class- she commented sometimes that my art was nice, but Cynthia was of the opinion that she was partly condescending too. If you read between her lines, it really said "Yeah, so what if you can draw well? You're a nerdy wallflower without any real friends and I'm popular."

On hindsight, maybe it's a little harsh to say that she thought that way, but I can't help but feel that she had been condescending on some level- as blur as I was, I'd like to think I'm not perpetually oblivious to like, everything. I don't think I really care though. Maybe in some weird Jungian subconscious way, I do care, but consciously? Well, not really.

I think secondary school popularity contests (whether or not they are consciously treated as contests or not) are really quite lame and juvenile, but I guess at an age where everyone's struggling to find their self identity and prove their worth, popularity is an inevitable stick to measure it by. Which is... kind of sad.

Still, I guess everyone grows out of it sooner or later. You certainly don't see much of that crap in poly, or at least, I haven't come across it.

I used to think that only stereotypical American schools were like that. You know, with the jocks and the nerds and geeks and misfits and whatever else labels they have for themselves. The jocks were at the top of the caste system, while the geeks and nerds were considerably nearer the bottom, and that sort of thing. It seemed that Singaporean schools never had that kind of discrimination, because popularity seemed based on something else that I never quite identified. Was it general coolness? Or maybe it was because a group of beng-wannabes decided they wanted to be popular. I never knew, and I'm okay with not knowing. But I think I'd really like to know anyway, so I guess I should start asking around, starting with Cynthia. |Db

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written at 7:36 PM

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Augh, I'm so tired. I think I might be falling sick soon, what with all the sniffling. I swear I thought I was going to have a nosebleed last night too, because I could feel the constant drip of blood down the back of my mouth. (I seem to be getting a few posterior nosebleeds recently. I think it's stress.)

It didn't come gushing out of my nose though, for which I'm quite grateful, because I didn't quite want to be bleeding all over my sketchbook while I tried to finish up photography.

Anyway, having Cynthia over is really quite fun even if it's 3.37am right now, and I have class at 9am, not to mention the project that's due then. I think I'll be given some extra time to finish up my sketchbook. I hope her boyfriend comes over soon though, because as fun as it is, my eyes are closing and I'm sniffling really badly and I have a bad headache.

/whining

Starting tutoring in English on Thursday. I'm still not quite sure what to teach the adults, but I guess I'll just wing it. Start off with asking them their goals in English, what they wanna learn, yadda. I think the greatest obstacle will be communicating with them because god knows my Mandarin sucks. I asked Cat, and she doesn't know who exactly is enrolled for the English class just yet, but hopefully it'll be just Mandarin-speaking people, and it really might be a good idea to separate them into total beginners and intermediates.

At least the upper secondary school students will be easier to teach. I think.

I mean, at least I kind of know where secondary school students are coming from. =/

0 bullets shot

written at 3:31 AM

Monday, November 10, 2008

Actually, I already have a Livejournal.

But I think my friends are a little sick and tired of seeing loooong posts about things that they might not necessarily want to know, and yet are obliged to read, because hey, what else are f-lists for, right? You read, and then you feel upset/angry/wtf/whatever else at your friend, and then if you're passionate enough (or bored enough, if the post was a cracky one) about the topic discussed in the post, you leave a comment.

On the other hand, I think a blog like this is a little more obligation-free, because I really doubt that I'll know many people who're reading this. If there's even anyone reading this for now. (There'd better be at least a few unique views a day though, because otherwise that'd be really sad. There has to be some bored soul out there.)

And er. This being the first post ever, I feel kind of obligated to make some sort of comment about the skin and the title of the blog. "Violent Frontiers" is a completely random name, from a misheard lyric, hur. I love Incubus, you see, but I mishear lyrics like nobody's business and it's led to a few 'what the fuck's over the course of my music-loving history. (I know, how did I even fall in love with musicals in the first place? Dude.) So there's this song by them called 'The Warmth', and one part of the song goes "Do you think I should adhere/To that present new frontier/And leave in my wake/A trail of fear, hey..." Or well, I think that's how it goes.

I misheard it as 'violent new frontier'. Do not ask, because I really do not know how I did that. Violent Frontiers it is, then. I might change it again, because I am fickle, fickle, fickle. As for the blog skin, er. I'll probably get to doing my own one day. I like the current one though, by Enirtep, d/led from Blogskin.com. It's so summery, and it makes you feel all chill and stuff. I love summery photos that've been treated to look like some photo from the 1950s, all cyan and faded. It makes me happy and fuzzy inside, and. Well. ILU SUMMER, I'M SO GLAD I'M SINGAPOREAN. It'd be a lot better if we had nicer beaches though, pffft. I'd even go to some ulu part of Malaysia if it meant I got a nice beach. >:

So anyway. (Totally different tangent here.) This post? Is going to be bitchy. When I was thinking about making a new blog a few weeks back, I wanted to make my first post kind of interesting and feminist and kind of intellectual (or as intellectual as a dork like myself can be. I try to be, but really, all attempts at being smart and academic have turned out more to be dorkfests than anything else), and this post would have been.

Then I went on a date last week that I wasn't even sure about in the first place, and now I'm significantly pissed, so I'm just going to bitch about my first ever (and spectacularly horrible) date. <3

So I got to know this guy online. Let's call him Joe*. Actually, I didn't like him about ten minutes into the online conversation, but I tried not to be judgmental and arrogant, because I always am, and I'm trying not to be so sharp and harsh even though it just chafes at me terribly. But well. He was kind of annoying and cheesy with his lines. He could have been a lot worse, but this is about as much as I could tolerate without openly rolling my eyes and snickering. So, lucky for him, I suppose. He said that I was the first girl in ages who understood everything he said.

At that time, I thought privately that it was because I was way above his league- it's kind of like a teacher understanding what a student's trying to say in his essay. Not very difficult.

I talked to him a bit more, but as the time wore on, I got more and more tired. I think that was partly why I didn't appear online for so long- I didn't want to see him, aside from schoolwork and stuff. He asked me out for dinner actually, and the day of the date, I was so irritated and indecisive that my mother got exasperated and told me to just call it off. So I did.

Weeks later, I went online, and surprise surprise, he was online too. We got into another conversation, and for the first five minutes, I was like, "Hey, I guess he's not as bad as I remembered." And he asked me out for dinner again. Stupidly, I agreed, only to regret it ten minutes later. But I guess I'm really a masochist, because I thought I'd just try it out, and see how it went. Maybe people are different offline than they are online (even though he kept on messaging me to say things like 'I'm looking forward to meeting you', blah blah blah shit), and so I tried to be optimistic.

After this, I can safely say that sometimes? I should just STFU on the charity and actually listen to my instinct.

I met him near school. And guess where we went for dinner.

The fucking kopitiam next to my school. I kind of thought we'd go somewhere like Thai Express or a small roadside cafe or something. Apparently not. And then he had to be cheap enough to ask for my student card because the drink stall at that kopitiam offers discounts to students from my school.

WHAT THE FUCK? Is this even a fucking date? I have no idea if he just wanted dinner as acquaintances or as a date, because he kept hinting things like "I'd really like to get to know you better" and he even asked for a fucking kiss on the cheek in our first conversation. It was so fucking ridiculous, even if I'm totally repulsed by him (not just for his cheapness. I'm repulsed by his looks, his attitude, everything.)

So anyway, I just got a basket of potato wedges, even though I was kind of hungry, because really. My appetite just fled at the sight of him.

I'm not sure if I was being apparent enough, but I think he's denser than oh, I don't know, osmium, maybe? I was pretty much unresponsive for much of the 'date' (I have no idea what else to call it, because I certainly wasn't hanging out with a friend- hanging out is fun stuff, okay). I didn't talk much, I didn't initiate any forms of conversation, yadda yadda.

It was half an hour later when we finished dinner. I wanted to just get up and leave, but some insane, polite part of me insisted that I stay for a while longer so he wouldn't feel too bad, so I said, "Hey, let's go to the bazaar at SMU." Big mistake. I wasted even more of my time.

He took me down to the concourse of his school, and there was one point where we were walking along this area that had two levels- from the upper level, you could see the lower one, and apparently, some of the students there like to rehearse their dance moves and stuff.

And Joe- really, I think he's some sort of bitter nerd who's bitter because he's a total dork and can't get girls- he was telling me about how there was this bunch of girls who wore long-sleeved jackets and hotpants who had their rehearsal there and he was ogling them with a classmate or something. I hated the way he described them, hated how he made 'sensuous moves' sound disgusting, because he made an innocent and fun session sound like the girls were trollops who liked to tease the guys around them. And then he went on to say that these were the same girls who'd give you condescending/annoyed looks if you so much as ogled them while they were wearing business suits. "The dual nature of humans is amazing," he said, or something like that.

I wanted to slap him.

He made it sound like the girls were hypocrites, cockteasers, even if he didn't mean it, and I just wanted to slap him at that point. What dual nature? It's just part of socialization, isn't it? People always have different facets of themselves for every fucking situation, and it's normal and it helps people get along.

Because dude, if I were being myself? I would have punched his face in halfway through that walk in the concourse or at the very least, excused myself ten minutes after we met.

Then we walked past this really cool clock, with a chalk drawing of a woman on it, and then he was like, "There is no form more beautiful than the female form."

Er yeah. Right. Except this line is so cliched I'd be rich if I had a dollar for everytime I heard that. Maybe he was being honest and he really did think so, and maybe it was just me being paranoid and negative, but the way I heard it, it just sounded like he was a fucking perv. Every other wannabe Casanova has said it, and it has just lost its meaning. I agreed though, but I included males in the equation, because personally, I do think that the human form is beautiful, with its lines and form and movement. I draw it often enough, anyway. But he didn't seem to get it at all, and that was when I gave up and categorized him as a typical guy who doesn't appreciate shit about visuals.

Talk about wasting time. I want my one hour and a half back, thank you very much.

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written at 10:24 PM

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A personal blog written by Losse, with the occasional bitchfest social commentary thrown in. Los if you're going to misspell it.

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