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.