fucking shitty day

Today was one of the worst days in recent memory.

Firstly, just as I was beginning my daily trudge to the bus-stop, the heavens started to open. God knows, the precipitation got so heavy till the point where parents decided to not drive their cars at over 10km/h for fear of their beloved ones’ safety.  So, the bus I happened to be in was caught, at Dover Road, in the worst jam I have ever been stuck in (based on nett forward movement over time). Till this point I’ve actually made the situation sound rather mild; I was actually standing up in the bus for a full forty-five minutes after the bus passed Dover MRT station, hoping and praying that the god-damn traffic would move.

Then the bus driver had the brilliant (no sarcasm intended) idea of letting the passengers get off before the traffic crossing which we would take to go to school. At the moment when the driver made that decision, I had to make one of my own: choose between waiting for another (possibly) half an hour or so, or getting of the bus there and then and running to school. Me being me, I chose the latter. As the course of nature would have it, I ended up in school looking like I had run through heavy rain without an umbrella, which I had indeed done. I think.

Then came the worst part of the morning: receiving of prelims results. I had expected my last-minute cramming to bring me some prosperity; it didn’t turn out as I had wished. A score of 13 points will please not many students. I am among the majority who’d balk at such a score. The breakdown went like this: in the subjects that I would have typically scored an A1 in (other than math, because I’m too awesome at math), I scored A2. In the subjects that I could have scored A’s in, I scored B’s. Probably the only grade I was satisfied with would be Chinese; I got 58 (a C5) for that subject.

There will of course be the many critics, real or not. “Serves you right for not studying properly,” some might say. Guess what: fuck you. While it may have been my decision and mine only not to mug for the prelims, the fact that whatever topics I had taken as my weaker points and thus set out to correct largely didn’t appear in the papers (except for a few Phyiscs multiple-choice questions, of which I answered all correctly).

Today is officially a Fucking Shitty Day. I have even decided to push forward my mugging to today, so as to make it worse. When something sucks, make it suck real hard I say.

oh my god

I abhor paper reviews, or at least today’s manifestation of said event. Like, the express cohort spent hours on end in the lecture theatre listening to monotonous oratory while trying to keep awake. The amount of torture that this experience brings exceeds even that of the Chinese O-level prep a couple months back. Other, less painful things would include stapling one’s privates to an oven wall or listening to a Camp Rock song. Then again, listening to that Disney trash might just prove even more painful, should the volume be turned too high.

I’m extremely tired, and have been so for the past few days. I need rest. Today’s nap did wonders for the state of mind.

random?

Manchester United 0 Villarreal 0, despite the return of Mr. “42 goals a season” Ronaldo. Oh the shame and ah the irony.

The recent weather has been very pleasant. And by pleasant, I mean accomodative of my everyday doings. The rainfall levels have lessened of late, which to me can only be a good thing.

I just tuned my guitar to D standard, and I’m loving how low things go.

I love tea. Especially tea with milk, and cold. And especially tea made by myself. I do not normally completely appreciate my own crafts and creations, but this here is one exception.

Having lived in where I am now for just under a month, I have just noticed not a lack, but a complete absence of people of similar youthfulness demographic in the two blocks that make up Le Wood. Other than my two siblings, there seems to be no one living here that is within five – heck, ten years of my age. Either that, or these people are content to milk the fountain of their youth at home, 24/7. Then again, I don’t even see people walking out of the area during school-day mornings. Weird.

I like long weekends.

a break

Prelims are over, and, barring a miracle or disaster, the next major event in the school calendar is seniors’ night come Friday. I envy the students in many other schools; they have their seniors’ night equivalents in hotels and whatnot, and ours is to be held in the school compound of all places.

Oh and I already feel like slacking my ass off again. There’s five weeks to O’s, of which at least three must be dedicated to recharging my flagging energy and alertness levels. The latter two seven-day chunks will be devoted to slogging, if things go according to plan.

I miss the henryparkers. Yes it’s only been something like a couple weeks since I last saw those people, but hey, when you realise how much of a drag your regular life can become, you really appreciate even more the company of a refreshingly ‘different’ group of people. ‘Different’, I mean, from the people that you otherwise see every long day.

I’d, if possible, play organiser this time, should there be any potential dates. It somehow bothers me that all the time I’m waiting for confirmation and whatnot, instead of getting off my ass and taking charge.

prelims and ahead

Tomorrow being Monday would typically be a school day. However, as the papers that fall on that particular date are not papers I have to sit for, Monday is a non-schooling day for me. After that, there will be three papers left, of which two comprise entirely multiple-choice questions. I smell the end of the preliminary examinations.

Of course, it’s not as if the in-school mood post-prelims will lift to any degree at all. While it can’t be said that there’s some kind of running feud between everyone, not very many people will be feeling in the least bit happy, even after prelims end. That applies, too, to the educators.

I have decided that should the situation allow, I will take my last pre-O’s break after prelims. And then the no-page-unturned mugging shall commence. That, and countless consultations with my various subject teachers. Messrs. James Foo and Peter Tan, prepare to have your afternoon lazing period decimated by your truly.

suck it

Manchester United lost 1-2 to Liverpool, which means that tomorrow’s papers will be left untouched, at least by me. The worst part of it was, after scanning the match statistics, the only possible conclusions that I could draw were that: Liverpool deserved to win, and United grossly need Ronaldo. Like, I’ve never seen a United game with so few shots from the Red Devils, let alone shots on target.

Should this trend continue, United can kiss goodbye their hopes of retaining their Double. They’d struggle to break into the top eight on current form, in my humble opinion (as reflected by their inability to beat Newcastle United).

Hearsay that Berbatov didn’t play well, by anyone’s standards. He may have assisted United’s solitary goal, but that may well have been his only contribution of note to the game. And Vidic got sent off, which means United will have to chuck some backup defender into the lineup. Which of course makes me lament the fact that United sold Gerard Pique. Ah, of such length is the chain of repercussions.

More on soccer: having witnessed last night’s S-League game (on TV), a thought sprang to my mind. I literally couldn’t recognise the entire Albirex Niigata side, save for their goalkeeper and one forward. This of course could be pinned to the fact that each season they play with an almost entirely different squad. This trend is not restricted to just one team though; clubs have varying playing staffs each season. Which leads me to my point: why is such a thing happening? This lack of continuity means that clubs have no identifiable stars in the long term; a player cannot be associated with his club a la Scholes to United or Gerrard to Liverpool. “But look at Aleksandar Duric and SAFFC!” – he spent his first few (and equally prolific) years at Geylang United, among other clubs. Noh Alam Shah was from Sembawang – but so many “fans” know not of it. 

This is part of the reason for the lack of interest in the S-League, I feel. Fans literally guess their team’s starting lineup each season. 

I propose something: should the Straits Times or Today staff come across this, I will announce that I am offering my services as an S-League journalist on minimum wages. You have until 2009, or the folding of the S-League to respond, whichever comes earlier.

i can’t wait for wednesday

Rather odd that I was griping about trivial issues before actually coming around to post about more pertinent stuff, eh?

So anyway, today’s E Math paper was generally fine, except for maybe one or two part-questions where I faced some niggling difficulties. History was an altogether messier matter. Like, my answer to a 6-mark source-based question was significantly longer than that to a 13-mark essay question. In other words, I could do well for source-based and be screwed for essay, or do poorly for source-based and as for essay… Ah, that better be left undescribed.

There are three more examination days left for me, tomorrow being the longest one, and indeed, one of the longest over the entire course of the whole funfair.

Having stolen a four-hour nap earlier today, I can with little regret devote the later hours of tonight to brushing up my Literature texts, and trying to scrounge for every last bit of attainable information with regards to Chemistry.

Oh and on an unrelated note… I’m going to be a rock star someday. That, and I will make good on my vow to walk around the entire globe. I’m generally not the forward-looking type (perhaps except when it comes to willing the holidays to draw nearer), but I already envision myself, bag over shoulders, traipsing across foreign lands like a hobo. It’ll be good, good fun. And a splendid way to kill shitloads of time.

I suddenly feel an inclination to post about random thoughts. And do so I shall. England’s 4-1 win over Croatia blew my mind. I had expected history and form to continue with existing trends, but was proven pleasantly wrong. However, I already foresee the English reaction. “We WILL make the World Cup by topping the group and scoring three goals per game!”. And if that doesn’t happen, there’ll be a huge wave of disappointment sweeping over England. There will, also, be the sacking of yet another member of managerial staff.

I was, in the same manner, shocked at Denmark’s 3-2 win over Portugal; I’d hope all the strong nations get booted out of the World Cup, thus ensuring an easy passage to success for good old England. Were Singapore going to be a part of proceedings, however, then they’d have my best wishes. As things stand, Singapore’s next major tournament is not the 2010 World Cup. It’s the Suzuki Asean tournament thingy to be held this December. I won’t miss it; Asean football is pretty much worth watching. Either you see lopsided scorelines, overheating of national sentiment, or a lot of mistimed challenges and red cards.

unreasonable people

I cannot for the life of me stand unreasonable people. Such as, my mother.

She calls for me. I respond “Yes?”. She, being the extreme case of sub-deafness she is, shouts for me again. I call back, slightly louder “What?”, and it’s MY fault for shouting. Worse still, she says I was the one who started shouting. Sound logic? 

I swear she’s pretty much the only deaf person (figuratively, and then again perhaps literally) that wears no hearing aids. While hearing aids should never be first priority in the family agenda, at least not currently, a bit of sound common sense did no man harm. Oh by the way, she was calling me because someone spilt some stuff on the kitchen floor and evidently slunk off without cleaning up their mess. Next thing, my younger sister enters the kitchen with a cup that’s got juice trickling down the sides. EPIC-FUCKING-FAIL!

adverts

I’d like to cast my wrath on a couple of advertisements that in my opinion get too much air time on TVMobile. Being a frequent commuter, I am invariably exposed to whatever sounds and sights that might emanate from the television systems on buses. And I’d like to comment that two particular advertisements especially irk me.

The first is the Silky Girl advertisement, featuring Felicia Chin and Shaun (?) Chen. I have nothing against the fragrance or whatever. I just think that this advert sort of warps the perception of attraction. In an increasingly liberal world, expressions of fond feelings are getting weirder. None are so weird as the one displayed on this advert: the girl, biting her lower lip, because all lovers bite lower lips, approaches the fellow, and then they hug. Describing this whole visual torture in words does too much justice to it. If you the reader is still confused about what about this advertisement I dislike, you are very much justified. My sentences are very muddled; I’m too tired to correct them. Then again, you could also watch the ad. And, listen out for Felicia Chin going “Silkygurrrrrr!”. Diction, diction.

The second is an ad about some bottled drink. This ad, too, features a couple. The dialogue between the couple, and the fairer half’s screwed-up reasoning as to why her hubby should take a swig of the drink in question, serves as a vomit-inducer, particularly aided by bumpy bus rides too.

The format of the dialogue, if my memory serves me well, goes as follows:

(Scene: Couple at food court)

Guy: “It’s so hot, I need a drink.” *orders a drink from a nearby coffee man* [problem]
Girl: “Well, you have this,” *waves away coffee man* [recommendation]
Guy: “This drink looks weird.” [refusal]
Girl: “But it’s good. It contains Vitamin B, C, D, E, F ….” [reasoning]
Guy: “So why should I drink it anyway?” [rebuttal]
Girl: “…Because I love you.”
Guy: *stares at bottle, then drinks* 

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK. Though I may have edited the dialogue due to not having gotten down the exact words, the structure still remains intact. They talk it out for a while, and the advertisers, having no idea as to how to carry the ad on, insert some crap with the same amount of thought that goes into scratching an itch. What the fuck are companies thinking of nowadays, I wonder. Well I shall proceed to fashion an ad the way beverage conglomerates like these do.

Guy: “Life’s so stressful.” [problem]
Girl: “Go jump down a building then.” [recommendation]
Guy: “It’s dangerous and not very pretty.” [refusal]
Girl: “But you are spared the imminent tortures of your existence!” [reasoning]
Guy: “So why should I commit suicide?” [rebuttal] 
Girl: “Because the sky is blue and the birds are black.” [what the fuck line]
Guy : *takes the plunge*

No thought, no logical process, no reasoning, no substance. I hate ads like these.

jamaica is amazing

Just a couple of minutes ago, my attention was caught by a video, featuring a competitive 100m race in Brussels. There were eight runners. And the results showed that the top four were all, you guessed it, Jamaican. In this order, they finished: Usain Bolt 9.77, Asafa Powell 9.83, Nesta Carter 10.07, Michael Frater 10.1. The scary part is, these exact same four men made up the victorious 4×100m relay team in Beijing 2008. Granted, none of the American runners were at the 100m in the Brussels meet. Yet, even if they were, you’d expect a Jamaican to win the race anyway. 

Today’s Physics practical went pretty okay; I hope the same can be said of the papers ahead. I thank God for the fact that tomorrow’s paper ends before 10, and the day after is free for me.