August 27
Early today I worked on emails and my blog. Naturally I turned on the desktop (where the Internet is) for a while, and then when my sister wanted to use it I went up to write and reply email. I write, go down for lunch, go back up to write. Around two or three hours later I go back down to send and publish.
Adrienne: Oh man it's turned off Liana I told you not to turn it off I was going to use it
Mother: You're going to use it AGAIN?
Adrienne: Yeah well I'm doing something
Mother: YOUR CLASSMATES AGAIN! IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT YOUR CLASSMATES! YOU GO HERE AND THEN GO UP TO THE OTHER MACHINE AND COME BACK TO THIS ONE AND YOU'VE DONE NOTHING BUT SIT IN FRONT OF THE SCREEN!
Adrienne: Not my classmates anymore, obviously. My friends.
Mother: Same thing! You are not turning that on!
Adrienne: But I have nothing else to do anyway
Mother: I asked you to do that card!
Okay you see I am really quite sick of making her cards. Not because I am lazy, but because I have never heard her say Thank You for any of the cards - which I put a lot of effort into - that I did in the past. So you just lose enthusiasm, you know? And then she gets rather annoyed when I say I need a new sign pen (Ink pens, you know..), trying to put me on a guilt trip about finances.
I do not plan to do that card.
She left a few minutes after and I just turned on the computer.
She spends so much time watching Hallmark and the Crime/Suspense channel, slumped on the couch and eating salted peanuts so I don't see why I can't spend the two-day weekend on the Internet.
Besides, I do a lot more productive things, i.e. reading at NYTimes.Com, posting at forums (I do believe the Debate forums increase one's intellect), talking to people a million miles away, helping myself cope, and browsing dA.
Seems all leisurely but at least it is brainfood, very much unlike watching Hallmark movies - majority of which are that Based On A True Story kind of thing where people conquer all odds and make it to Harvard even though they live on the streets. Or where a sixteen-year-old mother learns the importance of responsibility.
You know, those movies. The ones that make you feel like the worst smelling/looking pile of dung in the universe, sitting in the middle of the couch in front of the television. You should be doing three years' worth of studying in three months! Going around making speeches of how even though you are blind you make the best of it and is still successful in life! Taking care of your sister who is autistic! Heck, give those peanuts you are eating right now to homeless kids!
Then, early into the night, Rachel needed help with her workload.
You see, when you have people like Rachel in your life, who runs around the country buying you things, and then refuses to let you pay her - saying it's a birthday present (and then proceeds to make you feel like shit because all you did on her birthday was write her a sincere email); who gets into trouble with her father for making overseas calls too often, who stops you from skipping two weeks of school to go to Singapore because you need to study first...
Well how can you say no to writing the softball article for the 2006 Crescent Girls' School yearbook, right? Even though you are not a student there and furthermore in another country? Even though in the end your effort, that would be published in expensive paper, will not be recognized as your own?
The deadline was 8:30 p.m. I skipped the nightly half-hour-long prayer Once, just this ONE time, so I could finish writing about the tour de force that is the B Division softball team. (1-0?! Now really. That is great.)
Well, skipped it halfway, my father raged when he found out and made me go out to join the rest.
And then my Internet Hours were cut by one.
I do not know why they failed to understand that what I was doing was important. It was work, and at that time due in about ten minutes.
Then again this could be just me and my bad priorities.
Then again Again, I do not see why it would be a bad prioritiy because I was helping someone in need. Quite urgently, might I add.
I thought this whole Christianity thing was about loving your neighbors, huh? And sharing what you have (in this case, the surprsing ability to write), and helping those in need?
I don't think it has to be all about God all the time, right? And by helping others we still do good? Excuse me if I sound a bit arrogant but I do not know how else to phrase it.
The thing about religion - it's one-sided. The trust is one-sided, you cannot tell if the other party or should I say the higher power trusts you because everything is based on faith in the first place.
You can say "Ok I believe in you and all but right now just let me finish this really important thing, all right, you can see it's important, right? This girl is so great to me and I just want to return the favor for once." But do you get approval? A nod, a smile, a thumbs-up, or any form of reassurance? No. You tell yourself that this higher power understands and has nodded in your cartoon image of the afterlife up in the clouds. Faith.
Me being me, after my father's reprimand I tried to retort but the retort died when tears choked me.
(Why do they say choked up in tears anyway, tears are in the eyes..)
I just find it outrageously, truly, seriously, insanely, extraordinarily fucking frustrating that they don't understand. It was just One session, I wasn't making any noise, I was being of use for once.
Besides, I think I am prioritizing quite well even if I say so myself. Dear parents, did you forget that I passed every single subject the last quarter? Isn't that the main issue? Or maybe it was, back in Singapore. Now that I've solved it, you jolly well pick a new aspect of your daughter to scrutinize. I thought it was OK to make happiness-without-destorying-yourself a first priority?
But you know, religious morals aside (Not that I actually had much of it to begin with). I would not have thought twice about doing something completely within my capability for someone close who needs it.
My mother always questions me on my spending so much time and put so much effort into doing things, specially if they are for my friends.
And I just stare at her, it's such a bizzare question to ask, it's a question that shouldn't even be asked to begin with. Do I ask her why she puts so much effort into trying to make my father's birthday perfect? No. Same rule applies for me but she doesn't get it.
I feel useless / helpless 75% of the time. It is a rare occasion that I ever buy something for a friend. Because 1) I would take forever finding the perfect present and 2) I have never been that on top of money. If finances were not an issue for me you would be getting a lot of presents Just Because.
I use what I have a firm grasp on. For some people it's money and well I have my pen and paper. Or keyboard and Notepad (And more recently it was the Windows Media Encoder and my mic).
For a little Behind the Scenes, your birthday card/letter or Christmas card/letter isn't just something I sit down and do in fifteen minutes. Even if it's only a few lines long - which is usually the case because me being so sentimental and emotional, I try to reduce the amount of cheese. Or save it for future letters.
Probably a little silly but something that cannot be helped, what with my complex mindset concerning sincerity and sentimentality.
And that is the answer to your question, Mother.
August 28
By the way, mother, I put a lot of effort into my sister's birthday card. By the way, mother, I was planning to make one all along, you should not have provoked me to make a nasty remark this morning. Your fault.
I think I'm so incredibly stupid bothering to carry my cellphone around everywhere even though it never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever beeps.
Well it does, sometimes, in my head, and it upsets me. I see all these people in school texting their friends during class or whereever and it upsets me even more. And it's so weird that they proclaim themselves as "phone addicts" and for some reason proud of it. Right. They should see my Starhub cellphone bills.
This is getting extraordinarily boring.
I like my English teacher, even though he made clear that he did not want to get "involved with students in any way" and that he was only in class for the sole purpose of teaching.
He is insanely emotional, and most students would find that annoying but that's what I like about him, being so raw like that. He tells you when he's in a bad mood, he walks around with a hop in his step and sings while walking around the class when he's happy.
Sadly that happy moment was a long long time ago.
Now he's either in a bad mood, or just not showing any emotion at all. Today he said "If you're not going to shut up I would very much rather sit and think about my own problems."
Nowadays he sings to himself at the desk, but this time his eyes look sad, I can tell even though he is looking down. A couple of days ago he got this text message during class and he jumped and at the end of the class he desperately tried to grab hold of another student's SIM Card, he couldn't reply because of some complication with his line subsciber. I watched him do so and realize that if I were in his shoes I would have done the exact same thing, going all out to be able to communicate with someone.
Further back was an incident in class where he made this boy sit somewhere else, and because the majority of my class is unfortunately a bunch of third-graders at heart, they started making incredibly irritating "Woooooo" sounds. The kind of "woooo" that suggests some sort of romantic relationship between the two people. While I said "oh wow grow up," he retorted "Excuse me what is all this woo-ing what I did was not in any way suggestive and besides I already have someone."
August 30
Canada, New Zealand, Australia, GENEVA... my parents should just make up their minds. Hopefully for the latter.
38. Champagne Supernova
39. Oasis in general, christ I love them so much.
40. Sunday (not the day, stupid.)
41. The ability to disconnect myself from the rest of the world just by thinking
42. Seeing screencaps of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
43. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (UNBELIEVABLE I didn't put this in the list earlier)
44. Grey's Anatomy
45. Thursday nights because of Grey's Anatomy
46. Cutting paper
47. Have I mentioned the beautiful crack of the bat when I make a good hit?
48. James Blunt's High. Acoustic and live, please. (Speaking of which, if anyone has the song in MP3 format... Please, please, please.)
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August 31
Chris: *looking through my cellphone contacts* You have a friend named Jude... and you like, love Jude Law... aren't you lucky?
You see this boy makes me laugh.
Adrienne is 9th in class. Technically 3rd, because 9th to 3rd place were all tied to 87% and the difference between each was a grand total of only 0.022039520835 or something.
To be honest I really don't care about it, I'm only pleased with it because my parents are satisfied and satisfied parents = Internet Time.
The only two other things that keeps me going other than the Internet is Thursday nights and reading. The minute Grey's Anatomy credits roll I'm just waiting for the next Thursday to come around. That's how it is for me. One episode of Grey's Anatomy at a time, one weekend at a time, one book at a time.
September 3
Fourteen pages (back already included of course) of Social Studies notes in five hours straight of studying. The change in quality of handwriting is evident from the first and last page. My right hand is now suffering from a minor seizure.
I would like to thank my father, who had undying (and unconscious) support.
(Read: He was sleeping in the room (he works the graveyard shift) and that eliminated any possible distractions for me, i.e. singing, making random noises, lying on the bed, playing with the baseball [thank you Julie it had really saved me from the wrath of boredom] or camera, etc.)
September 5
At first, when Chris told me about the news, I wouldn't believe it. I was so shocked my "WHAT?!" could be heard by pretty much anyone within 200 meter radius. Because I was cramming a last bit of Social Studies last night, I didn't get to read the papers, or watch the news.
At first, I thought I was only going to be shocked for a while. But images of Steve Irwin played in my head, him on top of a crocodile, or eyes wide into the camera exclaiming "Crikey, look at that beauty!" with that strong Australian accent, or kissing a snake...
And I couldn't believe that this man had gone, if I were to rank famous personalities whether it was possible that they would die at this moment he would not have even crossed my mind for Top 50.
Much less would I have expected the Crocodile Hunter's grim reaper to come in the form of a stingray.
When I was twelve I remember being in the library, ecstatic that I had finally found that sort of autobiography he wrote. It was a big, square book, hardcover, with the thick expensive glossy paper. I had looked the pictures through at least fifteen times and would show it excitedly to anyone who bothered to listen, recounting his adventures and rapidly flipping pages to support my story.
I don't know, I guess I just thought that he was going to last longer. A Lot longer. It was unreal, truly, how I watched the Animal Planet's Crocodile Hunter marathon in his honor, and have the message
Discovery Networks International and Animal Planet International mourn the loss of Steve Irwin, the world's Crocodile Hunter. We bring you this special programming in memory of Steve Irwin.
Run across the buttom of the screen every ten minutes.
September 6
Fifteen minutes to midnight and I know I will regret this tomorrow while I sit in class trying my best not to fall asleep.
Actually sleeping at midnight isn't that late, but there are factors that trigger the increase in eyelid weight - what with the forty-five minute periods, what with the lack of energy (both my eyelids and the teachers teaching at that moment).
I do try to concentrate in class, absorb myself in the lesson... Because I'm a sponge like that and if I don't absorb myself in the lesson I'll be staring at the wall beside me until I become absorbed in my own thoughts which often fly to Singapore, which jerks the tear machine, which is not good. Thank goodness for thick hair.
I was reading my old entries and found this
and started crying :
I think I shouldn't have said "I wish I'd be a little less indifferent to things like these, because when it hits as an aftermath it's much worse." It's finally hit me and I can barely smile. I was alone in town for about 2 hours today and was on the verge of tears the whole fucking time.
No use complaining now anyway, I'm gone in a little more than 24 hours.
All plans for tomorrow shattered after mother said "Tomorrow it'll be us ok!"
Well it's not that I don't want to spend time with them, they've been pretty cool these last 2 weeks, under the circumstances of going off and all. It's frankly just not my first priority right now.
So please please someone bump into me so I have a reason to get away for a while.
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Oh, my god. Where were you?
I still remember that two hours... it was crazy. Everyone I saw was laughing and having fun and Orchard was so crowded and OH MY GOD Adrienne why the FUCK didn't you call someone up or crash someone's house jesus you deserve to be wallowing in your massive vortex of self-pity right now.
Then for some reason I cannot remember why I ended up at the bus stop across the road from the Cathedral of the Good Shepherd at Bras Basah and I had tears welling up and I tried pre-occupying myself with taking a photo of the pretty lights on the trees (product of which was out of focus anyway my hands wouldn't stop shaking) and I didn't see my parents' car pass by so I had to run to the end of the road where they were waiting and they told me off
We drove to the service apartment, where there was a surprise party, it was one of the worst nights ever because the tsunami of realization had finally hit me and I couldn't smile at all if someone said Hi I would just raise my eyebrows in acknowledgement because if I smiled I would break down.
I wanted so badly to somehow get out but the area was this weird place that I didn't know how to get around and there weren't any bus stops nearby, so. Plus I was in a mood that I cannot throroughly decipher, I wanted to be alone and see people at the same time.
Moving on I know I failed my Trigonometry test today, and it definitely did not help having the Scissor Sisters stuck in my head the whole time while I tried to remember what a Cosecant graph was supposed to look like.
Chemistry, like the abovementioned, is no different and memorizing the first 42 elements of the periodic table in thirty minutes yesterday was pretty useless. Sucks. So much for being quite proud of myself for being able to do so. I wrote them down in 10s, boxed each group in a different color, and memorized.
September 7
Unbelievable I passed Trigonometry.
Turns out sleeping at one in the morning has started to give me that so-tired-you-don't-feel-tired effect again. Good news, and darker circles under eyes.
Another weird thing I go through in school is being compared to a person I have never met. From the camera to the "style" to the people I hang around with to the people I don't like; apparently, this girl, Mer, who only lasted one year in my current school (I haven't found out why yet), is a lot like me.
Or as they say,
I am a lot like
her.
Ha ha not a big deal I know but I just do not like being compared to another person like that.
Kevin is the worst because sometimes he calls me Mer and when I give him That look he's like "Oh sorry you just really remind me of my friend Mer!!!!!"
Well two can play at that game, shall I start calling you Porky the Pig from now on?
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Updated Friday, September 8, 2006, 06:06 p.m.
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