the past few weeks have been pure madness for me. i had done 2 additional (but optional) maths portfolios in 2 weeks, and have bitched about so much you know you're not really my friend if you havent heard about it. 5 mins after i handed the first one in i started breaking down in the car on the way to my mum's asian grocer...and i had disgustingly stayed up till 3am working on the second one.
before i could catch a breath i had to prepare for my eng oral commentaries, where i had to study the whole of fucking Hamlet and 10 Atwood and Heaney poems for a 10min commentry that was worth the most important 15% of my final english mark. Don't get me wrong, i love the texts, in particlular Hamlet. But when you have to speak in front of two examiners and a video recorder, it does get abit nerve-racking the way you cant help but hang on every nod either examiner gives you.
The very next day was the day of my yr12 formal (prom). i started getting ready at about 1pm for the formal at 7.30 lol.. talk about frockin up. i had asked brendan to come with me and i wasnt the only one who kinda freaked out after he said yes. lol.. mum, you just have a tendency to hate every single male i show remote interest in. Scotty, when you receive pics of me and brendan-with-his-face-cut-out-and-replaced-with-yours, you'll know how much i wished it had been you. nonetheless, let me speak about how the evening went and credit given to my date, in case he chances upon this site. Bredan was every bit the gentleman.. the lil talk his mum gave him in front of me about 'taking care of Lynn not in a ninja way' was amusing and slightly awkward..
i got to the hairdressers at 2pm and my hair took an hour -it was gorgeous. then i got home to change n started getting really stressed putting on my eyemakeup i had to shoo my brother away and also put on my full-length white dress i got from singapore.... good ol Daniel Yam...when the divine ritual was over i made my way to Steph's pre-pre drinks lol.. just an excuse for more alcohol and more cam-whoring. I had fun there... pics are following soon in case ur wondering. at 5pm i returned home n packed a change of clothes (a very skanky/hot dress i borrowed from my sis) for the after-party. not long after, brendan and his mum came to pick me up to drive us to chelsea's pre-drinks (photos coming later), all while doing the whole "opening the car door/after you miss" thing.
When brendan n i introduced ourselves to some outside-school dates, his mum came over to tell brendan that he had to introduce me.. so i was obviously feeling every bit the uncomfortable-but-truly-loving-it date. i met some really nice people who were dates to wesley students.. some boring hoes in their tasteless unclassy dresses and smiled politely at them.. before the pre-drinks party split into two limos all of us gathered on chel's main stairs and the whole horde of paparazzi parents were clickling insanely away... while I was struggling to look into different cameras whenever i saw i flash go off, thinking wow, the camera loves me.. but really knowing the parents were taking photos of their children... lol...
the limo wasnt as exciting as i thought it would be.. it really just feels very normal.. lol.. we stopped by a drink store to get some drinks and then headed to the formal...
again... i cant really describe how the formal went except it was amazing.. except for those fat chicks in tiny dresses that scared me and made me hold more desperatetly on my date's arm..or whoever happened to be beside me at that time....and before i go on.. let me get it straight and out in the open: WEAR THICK STRAPS IF YOU HAVE FAT/BROAD SHOULDERS.
i always thought this was a given but apparently not. apparently these chicks' mothers dontt love them enough to tell them the truth either. you can tell my mummy
loves me cos when i wear something trendy but ugly on me, she dishes it out. =)
all throughout the formal i was desperately trying to get pics of as many people as possible but giving up everynow and then cos you cant maximise the enjoyment when your busy taking photos...i also noticed people loved to see me and brendan together more than me and brendan did..lol..we had to stop to pose for people a number of times.. they have more photos of us than i do.. which is why i had to create a MySpace account (Oz version of friendster) just to get pics of Jonno!.. jonno better love me. everyone loved my dress and i was thankful i didnt have to worry about someone else wearing the same/similar dress...a lowlight however, was that someone steped on my foot during the formal and i had a small round bruise on my foot, the size of a heel.. tt really hurt...o! and i also danced what little ballroom i knew with Mcnicol, my fav new toy boy... who doesnt get sexual benefits.. lol..
after party was really dissapointing and a rip off cos alcohol wasnt provided... so brendan and i and a few of his other mates went off to one of his mates where we continued drinking and taking photo's of Nenna's bleeding tongue as a result of a very hungry person eating a quarter-pounder... as the night wore on, we watched Harry Potty till 5am...
***
the next day i went to bed at 1am.. i have no idea how i managed to get through the sunday with all of 4 hours of bad-quality sleep.... i lay wake thinking of how I'm going to celebrate my 18th bday in singapore...
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Friday, August 03, 2007
Covering my Bases
I admit I am very clumsy when it comes to doing housework. As such, whenever I offer my help to the rest of my family to do housework, I receive nothing less than a scoff in my face. ‘Huh?! YOU’ll mop the floor?!” either with genuine or mock intent. When I do mop the floor, for example, again, ‘This is what you call mopping?’ is only one of the many condescending, albeit boring comments I receive. It was humorous when I first heard these comments, as I myself found the image of me cleaning the toilet rather unbelievable too. However, after awhile, comments of such a nature become annoying, and frankly quite biting. it also does not help that I'm the youngest and people seem to think I'm still the little 9 year old I used to be. So, I have since stopped offering my help in doing housework.
Today when my brother and I were at the post office to collect my parcel my father sent me from Singapore, I realised I had left my identification card in the car, which I needed to claim the parcel. ‘Eh, help me go and get can Kor?’ was my immediate thought. For some admittedly unexplainable reason, I was under the impression that the person in name had to stay in the post office. I waited and a couple of minutes passed (the car was about 100m away). I see my brother coming back in sight, walking at a pace only slightly faster than a stroll. It was as though he was grocery shopping instead of trying to get my identification card to me while I was waiting at the counter. ‘wahaha, could you have been any slower?’ was my immediate reaction, as opposed to the ‘thank you’ my brother was obviously expecting. His response to my seemingly ungrateful jest was ‘FUCK MAN!! The least you could do is say thank you!! My response to his unexpected outburst was ‘huh? Eh your crazy man’. I was puzzled as to why he had such a violent reaction to what I had said.
I go back to the car with me still being puzzled but I had a mind to tell him that my words, albeit impolite, did not warrant such an extreme reaction. I said that if he was rightly unhappy with what I said, he could just had said ‘you are so ungrateful’ or ‘how about a thank you?’ Not ‘FUCK MAN!!’ If it had been me collecting the ID card for him, not only would I have walked with a tinge of urgency, I also sincerely doubt I would have such a vulgar and volatile reaction if he did not thank me right away. Of course, in his defence, I should have said ‘thank you’ even though I claim I was only kidding when I didn’t. The card was mine to get and he had done me a favour. He then said that I ‘treat everyone like a slave. I’m 18 years old and don’t do any housework’. I continued to argue that he was too sensitive and this was not the first occasion where I felt so, and that his ego is too big.
Ego is problem in every single member of my family. Each of us thinks everyone else has a mountain of an ego. My family thus also values the humility in being the first to apologise in any heated dispute. It seems to be, through many years of observation, and the first person to apologise is somehow partially absolved from any faults of theirs. The first person who apologises is put in better light then the person who’s ego is too big to do so. To prevent myself from being deemed ‘pot calling the kettle egoistic’, tonight’s speech at dinner will go as such:
Kor, I admit I was wrong in not first saying ‘thank you’ after you went to get the ID which was only mine to get. So, I’m very sorry. On a separate topic, I want to talk about me doing housework. Some of you think that I ‘treat everyone as slaves’. In any situation, a person can only offer their help so many times, and can be turned down only so many times, before the person becomes discouraged, and cant quite be bothered to continue offering help. A person can only take so much in-your-face scoffing before they get annoyed and hurt (and feel handicapped and useless). So if you haven’t already noticed, I have long since stopped offering my help in doing housework. However, if any of you feel that its so unfair that you are doing housework while I am not; if you feel that I’m ‘treating you as my slave’, you need only ask me to help do some housework.
Today when my brother and I were at the post office to collect my parcel my father sent me from Singapore, I realised I had left my identification card in the car, which I needed to claim the parcel. ‘Eh, help me go and get can Kor?’ was my immediate thought. For some admittedly unexplainable reason, I was under the impression that the person in name had to stay in the post office. I waited and a couple of minutes passed (the car was about 100m away). I see my brother coming back in sight, walking at a pace only slightly faster than a stroll. It was as though he was grocery shopping instead of trying to get my identification card to me while I was waiting at the counter. ‘wahaha, could you have been any slower?’ was my immediate reaction, as opposed to the ‘thank you’ my brother was obviously expecting. His response to my seemingly ungrateful jest was ‘FUCK MAN!! The least you could do is say thank you!! My response to his unexpected outburst was ‘huh? Eh your crazy man’. I was puzzled as to why he had such a violent reaction to what I had said.
I go back to the car with me still being puzzled but I had a mind to tell him that my words, albeit impolite, did not warrant such an extreme reaction. I said that if he was rightly unhappy with what I said, he could just had said ‘you are so ungrateful’ or ‘how about a thank you?’ Not ‘FUCK MAN!!’ If it had been me collecting the ID card for him, not only would I have walked with a tinge of urgency, I also sincerely doubt I would have such a vulgar and volatile reaction if he did not thank me right away. Of course, in his defence, I should have said ‘thank you’ even though I claim I was only kidding when I didn’t. The card was mine to get and he had done me a favour. He then said that I ‘treat everyone like a slave. I’m 18 years old and don’t do any housework’. I continued to argue that he was too sensitive and this was not the first occasion where I felt so, and that his ego is too big.
Ego is problem in every single member of my family. Each of us thinks everyone else has a mountain of an ego. My family thus also values the humility in being the first to apologise in any heated dispute. It seems to be, through many years of observation, and the first person to apologise is somehow partially absolved from any faults of theirs. The first person who apologises is put in better light then the person who’s ego is too big to do so. To prevent myself from being deemed ‘pot calling the kettle egoistic’, tonight’s speech at dinner will go as such:
Kor, I admit I was wrong in not first saying ‘thank you’ after you went to get the ID which was only mine to get. So, I’m very sorry. On a separate topic, I want to talk about me doing housework. Some of you think that I ‘treat everyone as slaves’. In any situation, a person can only offer their help so many times, and can be turned down only so many times, before the person becomes discouraged, and cant quite be bothered to continue offering help. A person can only take so much in-your-face scoffing before they get annoyed and hurt (and feel handicapped and useless). So if you haven’t already noticed, I have long since stopped offering my help in doing housework. However, if any of you feel that its so unfair that you are doing housework while I am not; if you feel that I’m ‘treating you as my slave’, you need only ask me to help do some housework.
***
He who does eventually ask me to do housework admits to having once being a slave to me.
He who does eventually ask me to do housework admits to having once being a slave to me.
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