I’m nineteen now!
After awholelottacrapandcrying, that is.
(This is where I bitch for the final time, as a tribute to what T.S Elliot described of death and exiting- ‘with a whimper or a bang’. The reader may practice his or her discretion and decide which kind of death the following post will be.)
Things have settled somewhat, although I do feel a bit blue now and then when I think of all the lost time and wasted effort. When I think of my cousin and about a hundred other people (okay, maybe about ten others, actually), I feel a tiny bit of rage. (okay, maybe not a tiny bit.)
And all the feelings and hopes that went into the past few years and the horrible months of trying and waiting and waiting some more. Dear Lord, I’m making this sound like some kind of failed relationship. But.it is rather like one,
(READ: being led on, hoping for a call, waiting for a call, dying near the phone, waiting some more, and then being jilted without even getting a call, calling to ask for a reason, finding none/being offered no good, logical reason to explain the aforementioned development/stagnation of the relationship)
-so I supposed I’m justified with the bitterness that I feel each time I think of the teaching and all the paperwork that was supposed to go somewhere.
I suppose my forms and testimonials got chucked into some bin after the cleaning lady found them on the stairs on her way to supper. This was probably after the main clerks had left the office, but only after the clerks had been distracted with something so incredibly important that application forms got messed up and they didn’t even notice as they traipsed off for their supper and left the forms for the cleaning lady to find.
That’s probably the only logical explanation why. Or maybe, as a good friend of mine said, “Maybe having all the As with the full twelve units, a H3 distinction, a kick-ass portfolio, a super leadership position, the solid testimonials, and having published a book by the age of eighteen is just not what they are looking for in teachers.”
That leads me to my birthday. I’m not sure if it’s because of the wholelottacrapandsecretormaybenotsosecretcrying that I’ve been quite susceptible to for some time now. But I’m definitely not complaining about the awesomeness that’s been given to me during the moments when I was feeling pretty dejected.
I suppose a lot of thank-yous are due, but I know my parents read this blog (which is very irritating since I can’t swear as often as I’d like to or bitch openly or even thank them in case they want to talk about it in the car, which would be like, soooo awkward) and so I’m going to do it in spirit- meaning, in my mind.
For the friends who read this blog but do not discuss my posts with me because they are not parents (yet), I will proceed to thank you. Please do not bring this post up after reading it because I will dissolve in tears and get all emotional.
Oh, and before anyone accuses me of being one of those overly-emotional actors/actresses who only get a golden man with a naked butt but talk until the orchestra is forced to play, I’m going to justify this by saying that my parents and friends were there when I was tempted to kill something in the grisliest, most gruesome way.
Anyway, I’m going to do the ‘thank-yous’ as discreetly as I can on this blog.
1.To the girl who’s been lending me her Geog notes since like, time memorial and then lent it to my A11 classmates when having one parasite-thing was so not enough: thank you. You’re going to be a fantastic Geog. teacher, regardless of the system that is about as good as Beethoven’s sense of hearing in the later part of his life. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep the promise we made to each other, but I tried my best, I really did. If I tried anymore, I might have to hunt down the clerk and torture him/her first for screwing with me.
2.To the girl who denies looking like the Korean dude who got caught with crack or some kind of drug (which is probably the only thing I remember apart from his being the prince in Goong): thank you. I’d be lost without you. Secondary school would have been awful without you- nobody to spazz over gundam seed/ final fantasy with. Junior College would not have been okay without us keeping in touch either. We’ll probably end up attending each other’s weddings and divorces. Oh hey, let’s go plan the GSS route and that Carrefour-cheap-hour sushi party soon.
3.To the girl who cut her hair, and then cut her hair again: try and hook that American boy with a very Singaporean name. I want to know an SPG personally! I mean, thank you and stay strong even though there’s enough homework for you to be the second Edmund Hillary without even going to Everest. Call me if you need help- although I’ll probably be lost navigating that mountain too.
To no. 1 and no. 2, thank you for rushing out and insisting that you’d meet up when you were so busy with paperwork and idiot callers/bumming at home with guitar hero. Aston’s was great when both of you were there to hang out.
To no. 2 and no. 3, thank you for that amazing night at Timber’s and that chill-out session at the river. That was some shitty weather whereby we sweated like pigs, but great company made everything awesome. The bill was horrible, wasn’t it? I’m sorry I even remarked that I wanted to see what Timber was like- I should have insisted that Subway was the definition of a good birthday treat, since even army rations would have been fantastic as long as both of you were around. I feel awfully guilty- so so so so so so so so guilty. It was the most expensive birthday treat I ever received- priceless, actually. (including that bloody GST)
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My dearest A11-ers, I am so glad I am part of a class that has no qualms about forming a cultish-looking circle and editing each other’s research papers, one paper at a time. I am so thankful that I am part of a class that actually appreciates Black Adder and cleverness and does not like Ah lians. I am so honoured to be part of a class that can discern when a teacher is good and when the teacher has something of an empty head. I am so thankful to be in a class that is made up of amazing, talented people who can thrash anything and anyone while slacking quite regularly at the stone tables.
1.To the helmet-hair girl who regularly asks me how life has been (despite us both knowing that the answer will either be ‘okay’ or the cue to start bitching/complaining/whinging/whining): thank you. I can’t imagine how I could have gone for most part of Year 1 not knowing you as the friend you’ve become to me. And sorry I keep sharing with you stuff you probably don’t want to hear, i.e. all the whiny stuff. Please whine to me as much as possible, so I will less indebted to you. Oh hey, jamming session soon. Ukuleles unite!
2.To my SRJC buddies who’ve been by my side (not as if you can pontang and forgo the $65/day) for these months: Work has been so enjoyable (okay, I’m sugar-coating a lot right here) because you’ve been around for me. We gossip, we confide, we plan, we eat breakfast, brunch and lunch and we bitch together. We’ve probably contributed to about 20% of the ice-lemon tea profits at the cafĂ© or something.
a.To the girl who’s going to be hanging around Bukit Timah quite a bit: Thank you. You never complain when I do, even though you’ve got so much shtick to go through yourself. And just a side note here: I think you’re brilliant. Of course everyone thinks/knows that, but I wanted you to know that I do too. If your monster class doesn’t appreciate you, that’s their stupidity. You’re worth more than all of them put together- not that there was any basis of comparison anyway. Thank you, and no. 1 too, for being my confidantes when I needed to tell someone about something incredibly embarrassing. I’m not referring to the time when I needed a pad like, desperately although you were there for me too.
b.To the girl who’s going where her heart tells her to (I’m making it so romantic, aren’t I?): Thank you. You’re going to pummel the stuffing out of the FASS people. I’m going to watch you and I’m going to cheer you on and feel thankful that I’m not one of them. Thank you for being so sensitive and censoring questions related to MOE/life/shit and for elbowing Bryboy in the face and hushing no. 3 (see below) even when it wasn’t going to make me break down crying and/or cursing MOE. I’m really touched that they asked out of concern and that you muzzled them out of concern. I’d like to hug the air out of you, but you won’t let me because you think I’m getting infected by no.1.
c.To the girl who really needs to get healthy and eat like, only forty cheeseburgers to gain some weight: Thank you for being so indignant on my behalf. Thank you for being the first friend I made in JC when I was beginning to think that I didn’t belong there. Thank you for talking to me and bothering to find out that I liked anime. (I know it was only the second day, but it doesn’t help when your class has somehow formed distinct cliques of St. Nick/Cat.High people, IP, debaters, IP debaters that you don’t quite belong to.) Oh and get healthy soon.
3.To my fellow Geographer/ natoj-basher who regularly photoshop’s A11’s zits/double-chins/eyebags/dark-circles off our class photos: Thank you for being so incredibly fun, clever and supportive. You’re going to be great- business becomes you. I’m sorry that you’re in army, because it sucks to make plans to shop and hang out without you. The army’s seeing more of you than the class, and that’s such a waste because it’s not like the army needs advice on fashion (okay, maybe they do), the places to hang out, and your opinion on Rihanna and Britney as much as A11 does.
(Not that we dress badly or anything- it’s just nice to have a fash hag/ resident commentator on the hideous things that ahlians wear).
4.To my fellow Phoenix Wright addict who like me, is eagerly awaiting the release of the super hot Miles Edgeworth
in English: Thank you for being so awesome. You’re one of the most talented people I’ve had the fortune of knowing personally. I feel as if I know a star- nutty Blackadder singalongs and Britney accents included. I hope you get to your dream- lawyer by day, rockstar by night. I can’t imagine a class without you. And for those that exist without someone like you, they probably have half less of the intellect/ fun/craziness A11 has.
29th and 30th May 2009 were incredible days. It was awesome, having one birthday celebration and then another. It was even more awesome having awesome people with me to celebrate my birthday. And being blur helps when on one night, you unwittingly help to carry a cake box in a transparent plastic bag. And it helps to be quite absent-minded when on the next day, you offer to help keep the leftovers in the fridge, only to be met with shrieks of “NOOOOOOO!” and then a hasty, “My fridge is very err- messy, so let me do it.”
And the Moroccan dinner we had at Haji Lane on Thursday night was followed by shopping at Fie Japan. We exclaimed over the cute stuff and exclaimed over the exorbitant prices attached to those, and Exclaimed over a nice ring and the horrible price tag attached. And it was there that Danielle asked me what ring size I wore and I totally did not think of anything else except “Oh my fingers are fat- like very stubby. Wish I had long, slim fingers, grrr.”
Then I went over to Accessorize with Kristi and when we decided to had back to Fie Japan, the nice yellow enamel ring had been bought. I said stupidly, “Wow- someone bought it already, must be the Chinese girls in the shop just now. Haha, must be me and Dan remarking that it was nice so they totally trusted our taste- haha!”
“Yeah,” said Dan, hurrying over and pretending to be surprised (now that I know, anyway), “Like, hmm. That was fast.”
Then when I was at Diva with the girls (Bryan was standing outside with a PSP), I said, “Sigh, nothing on sale here is nice,” and someone said very casually, “Yeah, nothing here looks like what you’d like.”
And I said happily, “Oh then what looks like what I’d like?”
And someone said casually, “Oh, stuff from Fie Japan, y’know?”
“Yah!” I said, idiot that I am.
So when the class presented me with a fie Japan envelope and I opened it and found the yellow enamel ring, I don’t know why I was surprised. Heck, they didn’t know why I was either. Being blur helps I guess. But it was an incredibly lovely surprise, and I promise to flaunt it to whoever who happens to be not blind.
So there are some things I know, despite not knowing why I got blown off in such an ass manner by a system that promises to mould the nation. (I reckon it’s not the overachiever bit.) These are the things I am certain of.
1.I’m one year older and maybe not wiser, but I’m older and surely that counts for something. (‘More sex, more drinking, more driving, oh and hey, two more years to voting’, says Yici.) I’ll think about that.
2.I’m going to read NUS Law. My uncles and aunties on both sides will be pleased that I will not be a pedagogical slave- we have doctors, psychologists, economists, musicians, engineers but no lawyer yet. They say one teacher (my mother) is enough for the family. I’m past the point of caring-at least, not until July 15th when I click the ‘reject’ buttons for St. Andrews, University College of London and Edinburgh. I’m prepared to cry my heart out on that night, but not for now. Not that I’ll be staying in Singapore for as long as I can help it either. Exchange programmes are tough (top 50% of the top of Singapore’s student cohort are eligible for application) but I’m going to try my darndest, or so help me. In the meantime, there’s Ms. Yamagata to soothe my broken heart. (I’m really milking this, aren’t I?)
3.I’m surrounded by lovely people who are all rock stars in their own right, and no. 1 doesn’t seem ass when I’ve got all of them to count as blessings with my ten fingers and ten toes.