he’s crazy and concise.
English – 80% (4.0)
Lit - 79% (3.6)
FINAL FINAL FINAL FINAL FINAL GPA (BEFORE MODERATION, WHICH PROBABLY WON’T DO ANYTHING BECAUSE THE REST OF RI COMPRISES SMART BOYS WHO DON’T NEED NO MODERATION): 3.64
Joint third in class with about 4687349867356 others. Ten years down the road I’ll be sweeping it, wondering what would have happened had I gotten that one extra mark for Lit.
I need a life. Math party, my house?
Wow! it’s the latest blog quiz craze in town!
I accidentally jabbed the skin above my eye with my thumb in the shower today, and immediately went to massage it with a handful of shampoo. It hurt pretty badly and now there’s a scar.
…we’re still friends, right?
What’s wrong with this photo?
1. Wee Ping and Thomas magically lose their myopia.
2. Jonlian has delusions of caninehood.
3. Benjamin isn’t in the photo. So isn’t Zaki, but that’s not the point.
4. Matthew doesn’t have a left cheek. Wait a minute…
5. Spencer has three heads. Meanwhile, Shihang and Burger can’t be found anywhere in the photo.
6. Rich’s face is off-kilter.
7. There is an shadowy RJC girl in the background with awkwardly-positioned limbs. She will in fact grow up to star in a Thai horror film.
8. A track shoe mysteriously grows out of Mr Azmy’s butt.
Can’t believe this is the same week which housed two math tests, because I’ve since done as much Nothing as I could have squeezed into my schedule, and then some.
I feel kinda guilty, though, because my mama always said Don’t Waste Time, Because Somewhere Out There There Are Always African Kids Who Need Free Time To Study For Their O Levels – and DON’T tell me I don’t know anything about African kids, because I think I must have played like 54735348 Flash games about them the past three days.
Yesterday was pretty uneventful from the evening up, until there was HIC which I got lost* but I finally found my way after asking directions only once (and stalking some other guy who appeared to be going to HIC as well, until I realised he was lost himself, then I ran ahead. Thankfully a Hwachong guy in tight khaki shorts scampered ahead and led me to the entrance of the Drama Centre.
[*I WILL ALWAYS GET LOST IN THE BOWELS OF HWACHONG, IT IS A CURSE, SYMPATHY NOT REQUIRED. No, seriously, what an ill-mannered school. In MY school they have assorted student leaders standing every five meters holding large yellow neon signs with arrows pointing to the event of function.]
I missed the first part of The Biting Point but I’d heard so much about it anyway – series of vignettes involving taxi drivers. It’s a very interesting concept to have this enormous cast in different unrelated but seemingly converging stories, and the world of taxi drivers was always going to be an interesting one. To be fair I thought they were the best play of the five, but that wasn’t saying much. Aside from the interesting “twist” at the end of Akilan’s Bus Stop (the theme of HIC 2008 might as well be “Transport and Weirdly Unrelated But Somehow Tied-Together-In-A-Stark-Resolution Dialogues and Anecdotes”), I felt that the attempt at rhyming verse was a big mistake, it reduced their play to contrived half-rhymes and convoluted sentence structures – though in the teacher scene the rhyme produced one comic moment.
The other plays were bad, nuff said – though I totally missed the first one which lasted maybe ten minutes. Even the last one by the “Drama Club” was pretty bad, a major implausibility in the court scene and the most entertaining thing in the play was a runty squeaky-voiced guy who if his character had a pet gerbil should be better off playing that instead.
The Biting Point won Best Play, obviously, great fanbase and in any case like Souffle last year was a class above the other HIC plays, but to be honest I felt that the idea of segmenting a play into many different unrelated parts was unwise, even if revolutionary at this level of theatre. We had scenes going on for a minute or two before the lights went off, and then totally new sets of characters came in, relating their experiences and encounters. If I understand the play correctly it is all about achieving empathy for taxi drivers, yet the very fact that these drivers went on and off every now and then prevented the audience from empathising with them at all. It would really have been much wiser to stick to a main driver, possibly, and have the other stories revolve around him in a sense, but in a play where the main character was hard to define the intended catharsis (if any? I’m guessing that the way the play ended was directed at some sort of empathy for drivers) at the end kinda fell flat.
On a sidenote I haven’t been on stage for three whole months! *CLAWS AT SELF FOR LACK OF ATTENTION*
MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 32 DAYS’ TIME!
Oh man, I have to go to school tomorrow. Life sucks.
…
Nice weather, eh?
I could die single, friendless and obscure, but no one can take my Flash games away from me <3
In these stressful days it is very important that we preserve our sanity.
Which is why I find it rather troubling that I’m starting to anthropomorphise my numbers.
… please tell me it’s normal in a sixteen-year-old taking two math papers the following day.
Fifteen. Whatever - SHUT THE HELL UP, 3X2!
Oh man, there was this couple sitting beside me on the MRT, and the woman (China, ugly) looked like she was trying to lick her boyfriend’s cheek off, and it was pretty gross because she looked carnivorous and starved in a really wrong way. And the boyfriend was looking embarrassed and staring blankly ahead.
Seriously, the way people are making out in public, you’d think car backseats hadn’t been invented yet.
I survived Chem and History today, and it’s pretty cool that this could well be the last Chem paper I take in my LIFE. It could also well be the last time I enter the hall, take out my stationery, realise I don’t have a pencil, before deciding resignedly that I will do without a pencil for today.
And that was when I saw the OTAS sheet.
Well, Rich had an extra pencil, which I gladly took. That’s what friends are for – extra pencils.
REACTIONZ