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

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.

Labels: bigots should diaf, glbt

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written at 1:20 PM

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

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. =/

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written at 3:31 AM

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.

Labels: lol wtf

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written at 10:24 PM

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


Perfume, art, good stories and music, and fun conversations.


A lot of things.


MONEY. And er, sketchbooks and perfumes and art materials. :D


Michelle


There's no such thing as 'there's no such thing'.


November 2008
December 2008


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