Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Happy Teachers' Day!

[Quote of the post] "If you're gonna give this ticket up for something as common as money, then you're a dummy. Are you a dummy?"
[Song of the post] Anything from the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory soundtrack. I have got to get my hands on it.

And, once again, it's TEACHERS' DAY! Yay! The one day of the year every teacher loves! WHen they get a bunch of cards, presents and other useless junk that they can keep for decades so they can reminiscence years to come! Whoo!

ACES day today had one use: missing lessons. Nothing besides walk, walk, walk, and bombard teachers with questions. I didn't even manage to make my annual parody.

As I said earlier, all the teachers got a bunch of presents from the many thousands of students they had. Ms. Tan was the lucky teacher who had a lesson and thus was worshipped and got extremely attentive students for once. (Attentive by my class's usual standards.)

Teachers' Day celebration was okay, except that the singing was (simply put) not very nice. And the Educator ROCKED! It was like the best thing there! Okay, I'm not doing this because I scripted the thing, really, it was the only thing that really caught the audience's attention. You just can't have boys going through puberty to sing. It pains the ears.

Just a note, I bet the author of Eats, Shoots and Leaves goes through a big angsty period right about now since everyone is typing Happy Teacher's Day! when it should obviously be Happy Teachers' Day!

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a very nice movie. Very funny! It uses recurring humour, puns and very interesting character-interacting-with-the-movie plot twists that are hilarious. The effects are really good, and the Oompa Loompas' songs were excruciatingly funny. I need the soundtrack.

I am still stressed that my class is very disruptive, but since these past few days were not technically school days, so I'm trying too cool down a bit. I'm working on a parody of Bouncing off the Ceiling. I still am stressed.

Monday, August 29, 2005

I just wanna scream... nobody listens to me...

[Quote of the post] There are some things so serious you have to laugh at them.
[Song of the post] Why must this happen to me - Simple Plan

What a day. Argh. This next few paragraphs are going to be quite insulting, so I don't mean everyone of you in my class, okay? Just those few...

I made my speech today. Not technically a speech; it was more like a couple of sentences. Kinda expected when you're eating into recess. Pun not intended.

Laoshi was there. If Laoshi didn't take that extra five minutes things may have turned out differently. Not that I'm blaming her. She has enough on her hands.

Anyway, due to the lack of classroom attentiveness, I couldn't make my entire speech, so it didn't quite have the shock therapy that I intended it to have. Ah well. Nothing ever goes according to plan anyway.

Well, it ended just as I expected it would: everybody rushing off for recess and not having taken in a word I said. Obviously. And, even more obviously, Gid came up to me and hugged me. Argh. And Isaac too. I couldn't breathe.

If all the apologies and consolations I got were pennies, I would have 20 right now, but that's not the point. I'd rather have the class actually listen to what I say and carry it out than 20 or 76¢ or $42,070,118 for that matter. Just for once I wish that somebody would actually listen to what I have to say, respect my needs and cut me some slack. I may seem selfish, but isn't that what consideration is all about? Sacrificing your needs for somebody's selfish others. It's a vicious cycle.

The scratch of pens on paper marked the beginning of the test. It was simple, and yet so difficult. One could say it was simply difficult. The problems were easy, the trick was that you had to use algebra to solve them. It doesn't take a genius to guess what the class cried as Ms. Mazlind announced the test.

Uncle Edna's pen raced across his paper. "This is actually quite easy," he thought. Then the noise began.

It started as a gentle humming in the background. Nothing too serious; his head usually buzzed when he was thinking. Slowly but surely, it grew, like a great swarm of bees drawing closer and closer. It just needed one thing, one single catalyst, and they would all attack, their droning louder and louder, buzzing in your ears, drowning out all other noise, you can't hear yourself think...

"SHUT UP!" The fire of seven months of angst, anger and irritation lit up his eyes as he yelled it across the room. Kevin Wong looked distinctly worried. A anonymous "Whoo!" surfaced from the depth of the clustered students, all cramming around each other, trying to copy, discuss, make their way through the loophole in the test system.

Eyes still alight, he looked back at his paper. He wondered why it didn't burst into flames straight away; he was staring at it so with a hatred that burned deep, leaving scars that cannot heal in such a short time.

"It's a record," he thought to himself. He had spoken to them a mere two hours ago. A couple of sentences explaining that he was very stressed and wanted the class to cut him some slack. "I can't believe I actually thought they would change." He buried his head in his hands.

The noise level rose and fell like an ocean wave. The smallest of comments sparked another slow burst of flame, but the quick retort of "Shut up, lah!" brought it down again. As time passed, the duration of the breaks of silences decreased, as did the number of "Shut up!"s.

He started pacing the room, clutching his head. He couldn't think. The noise... drowning out thought processes... Ms. Mazlind crossed the room. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Yeah, I'm fine; I'm just thinking," he lied. He sat himself down and begun to write a few more figures.

Like a ticking time bomb to the volcanic eruption of Krakatoa, the noise level broke the sound barrier as the teacher left the room. She'd be back in ten minutes, but the decibels had skyrocketed once the teacher's foot disappeared outside. His mind was on overload again: the anger, the frustration, the uncapability of shutting out the noise while trying to find the value of x at the same time. His anger bottled up inside him; he wanted to let one rip, but he kept it in. He was gonna blow. Any moment now.

On a more lighter note, I'm in the IB programme. Yay. Most of my friends are in as well as a couple of some people. Some friends didn't make it though. I hope that they get past appeals.

Oh, one more thing. If you're going to the ACS(I) Prefect Selection Camp 2005 as a Nominee, the do NOT under any circumstances bring a gigantic SuperSoaker 5000 with hydraulic pump action and 500ft. range. I've been there before. They'll take the gigantic bazookas and pass around the handguns. Then they'll announce that they have immunity and you're not allowed to shoot them. And the have the big guns and are allowed to shoot you. Think about it, and spread the word.

That's about it for today. If you believe in miracles, come pop by my class and see for yourself. You'll be a skeptic in no time.

Friday, August 26, 2005

It... is just... a GAME.

[Quote of the post] Take it that this is combined with the previous post, okay?
[Song of the post] This too.

Sorry. This is a double-post. This only appears the next day because I wanted to type this but I already posted today. (Sorry about the angst emanating from the previous one.)

Basically something happened today that started me thinking, posting parodies of angsty songs, and started other people blogging about this as well.

Today was the last few preliminaries of the Geography mapwork competition. Simply put, each group is supposed to create a group of 10 geographical questions and the winner is the who can answer the most questions on somebody else's powerpoint.

Well, maybe the instructions weren't clear, maybe they just wanted to sabotage other groups, maybe they just got carried away. In any case, some questions were definitely not geographical. The questions were supposed to be geographical, but they couldn't merely include geography inside. It doesn't count.

For example (sorry, this was the best I could think of), asking you to find out the amount of potential energy you have atop Bt. Timah Hill does require you to know the height of Bt. Timah, but calculating potential energy isn't something you can do in 10 seconds.

Anyway, a certain someone was arguing that some questions he had to answer today were void as they were not geographical. Well, the above example was one of his group's questions. Just goes to show.

I'm not insulting anyone here. The point I'm trying to make is, please, one or two points is not going to kill you. The prize is probably a packet of sweets or something. If you don't win it, you won't die. Calm down.

In the words of the great and immortal Mdm. Melissa Eu, "This... is just... a GAME." And that's what it is! If we didn't have this game, we wouldn't have any idea what an oblast was (a provinve in Russia, can you beat that) and at least now you know what the capital of Kyrgyzstan is! The points don't matter. What matters is that now you know where the Dombra originates from.

Sorry if I'm offending anyone. I'm just telling it as it is. And sorry if I seem to be becoming cynical, depressed and angsty. Just a question: do you like reading report blogs, philosophical blogs, angsty blogs or happy blogs? Just wanna know.

Well, this is coming a day late. Have fun, everybody, and keep smiling.


[Quote of the post]Nobody listens to me...
[Song of the post] Welcome to my Life - Simple Plan

Welcome to my Life
Do you ever think your class is loud?
Do you ever feel really mad?
Like somehow you are liked too much
But no one understands you

Do you ever want to run away?
Do you lock yourself in your head?
With imagination turned up loud
But no one appreciates it

No you don't know what it's like
When you turn off the light
Then everybody starts
To shout at you

You feel hurt, you feel pain
You’re the last one to lock the door
To be scratched, poked and punched
To feel like you're being strangled to death
To be on the edge of falling down
But no one's there to catch you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life

Do you ever wanna save the world?
Helping people with your super powers?
Are you desperate to heal someone else
Before your life is over?

Do you try to cheer up everyone?
Do you think you are just too nice?
So everyone thinks you’re too kind
To put them in detention

No you don't know what it's like
When nothing goes to plan
You don't know what it's like
To be like me

To be sad, to loose cheer
To be left out all alone
To feel that you have none
But friends who make you smile
To be taken advantage of
But you’re too nice to say so
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life

No one ever lies straight to your face
But everyone just stabs you in the back
You might say, “Be happy!”
And then hope I'm gonna be ok
Everybody always is a critic
You never had any encouragement
You don't know what it's like
What it's like

To be kind, to a fault
To feel that you’re so useless
To have expectations
That you have to live up to
To be discouraged from doing things
That you’d really love to
No you don't know what it's like (what it's like)

To have friends
Who still care
Who still cheer you up when you’re down
To be loved
To feel like you’re on cloud nine
To be on the verge of cracking up
And friends are there to laugh too
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life

Welcome to my life
Welcome to my life

Monday, August 22, 2005

Would the world please JUST GROW UP???

[Quote of the post] I'm not paranoid! Which of my enemies told you this?
[Song of the post] Reflections - Disney's Mulan

Title seem familiar? Quote Michael's post a couple of posts ago. Seem familiar now? That's because you just saw it, silly. Ooh, angsty much?

I write stories. Maybe you'd want to know why.

The world never works out the way you want it to. Many elements are out of your control, especially if you're under eighteen. But that's different in a story. You are the writer; you have control. Things may look bad if you're the main character, but in the end everything works out. (I assume this to be untrue for Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events.) Everything works out. You survive against the odds. You always win.

Maybe I'm fantasizing. Maybe I'm idealist. Maybe I just have an overactive imagination. Maybe I just like writing. Maybe I write to entertain. Maybe I should stop all this hypothetical "maybe"s.

My class doesn't know when to keep quiet. (Note: This is again in general; if you're one of those quiet ones who doesn't talk in class, then I'm not referring to you.) Talking and talking and talking... Haven't I blogged about this before? Everybody talking, nobody listening, especially to the class chairman... leadership... it's down there somewhere... check the archives...

I sick of this situation. Hell will freeze over before this class gets into order. That's why I write fiction. Everything works. Nothing just sits there with out a use, making unnecessary noise or distracting you.

I started TNN to try and change this. Everybody works in a team, working together, nobody useless. I realize it is another of my futile attempts. The people it most concerns do not read the forums except Kwong's homework list.

I will not shut down TNN as I still can see a hope, and also because my fans want more. (No, really, I have fans.) I just had to say this again. Nobody seems to understand.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

Munzhangus Quaner. What's the sitch with that?

[Quote of the post] So not the drama.
[Song of the post] Save the World - Kim Possible

Just watched Disney Channel's Kim Possible Movie - So the Drama and I tell you, is it hyped. There are like ad everywhere. Every ten minutes, commercial, Watch Disney Channel's original animated movie, Kim Possible - So the Drama and stand a chance to win a free screening of any movie with ten friends, drinks and popcorn included, etc.

Well, the show was okay; I was expecting better/more, but it's technically a normal KP episode drawn out to fill a 1 hour 35 minute slot. It was funny though. As in, Ron-funny, villain-funny, sneaky-reference-to-other-episodes-funny. In other words, a nice blend of stupid humour and smart humour.

And I spend the entire Saturday afternoon decoding the codebreaker word, and then I find out I can't enter the conest. Argh.

By the way, yes, I watch KP. What? So not the drama. (Pun not intended, really.)

Aaanyway, today there was this ETMR installation, which for me and Mike meant a morning of filming, and that reminds me I have to kill Zhang for misinforming me about the time.

So after the installation, Zhang and Kev (W) had planned to see Charlie and his Chocolate Factory. But since they found out they were the only ones going, and that no-one else wanted/could go, their plans melted. (Yes, this time, pun intended. Muhaha.)

So Kev (W) goes home by himself, and Zhang has no idea where to go, only that he must be at Bishan MRT at 4:30pm to watch the Japanese Festival thingie. So he decides to come to my house.

Let me tell you this. My house is sorta sacred. Nobody ever goes in without my/parent's permission. And if you think this is normal to everybody's houses, restate that third sentence and ignore everything after the fifth word.

The only people (non-relatives) who have stepped into the sacred domain are Hsieh Wen, Juzzie, and Chris, a ex-school friend. So Zhang is like the fourth person to enter my house.

Which I find weird. Usually nobody comes to my house. And here's Zhang coming to hitch a cab with me to my house. Strange. Unusual. Queer. Different.

Ah well, it's no big. Well, see ya next time. Call me, beep me, if you want to reach me.

Friday, August 12, 2005

Existentialist puberty

[Quote of the post] Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure. But a moment of laughter is much better pleasure.
[Song of the post] Waltz for the Moon - Final Fantasy VIII

Sorry, addicted to FF8 songs right now. =D

Anyway, Mdm. Yeo today displayed some form of angst so similar to that of a teenager's that cause people to wonder if she is being exposed to too much teenage angst.

Quote Mdm. Yeo (roughly): "I don't feel that my life has any purpose, I feel obsolete..." (something like that)

Amateur psycologists, like myself, have termed this condition Existentialist Puberty, exhibiting both forms of existentialism and forms of teenage angst.

Teachers have a very stressful life, 'tis true, far worse than that of the common student. They are great, wonderful people.

The scary thing is that she wants to read our blogs. This poses a new question: Is this just an excuse to read our blogs? Everybody, one, two, three: Dun dun DUN!!! I don't believe so. Mdm. Yeo's a nice person, and doesn't have to resort to this sort of thing if she wanted to read our blogs.

The problem is not what is on my blog, but what it links to. You notice on the right you'll see a link, longer than most of them, the longest of them all. That is the link that I most fear the teacher will click, because there lies a piece of fiction so powerful, so secret, so... fantastical that no teacher may ever read it. EVER. (That reminds me, the link is now broken, just in case.)

People fear that teachers may read what is on their blog. Then they shouldn't get a blog in the first place. A blog is to voice your feelings, your thoughts, and in the case of Michael Wee, your angst, not just for your friends, but for the world. Hey, anything on the Internet is accessible.

Acording to the Rule of the Internet, you can start from one blog, go around clicking the links to other blogs, and eventually (and I do mean eventually) you'll get back to where you started.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

I'm happy just to see you smile!

[Quote of the post] Two wrongs don't make a right. Three rights make a left. But two Wrights can build you an aeroplane.
[Song of the post] Liberi Fatali - Final Fantasy VIII

ARGH!!! I haven't blogged in weeks! Sorry to all my fans out there! (If I even have any...)

So much has happened in the past week: Demel and zQ have gone to Japan, I'm getting an award tomorrow, National Day is coming up, I've had three tests, and the Avengers set has appeared in the Vs. System. Whee!

A question of Daniel's has triggered the topic of this post. Actually, he raised it on Thursday, but with all the stuff I'm doing, I barely have time to blog. Sorry.

Anyway, Daniel's question is something along the lines of: "Are you happy with your life? Tell me how to be happy! You better tell me now, or I'll kill you." Something like that.

Well, there's me and Kwong telling Daniel how we stay happy and stuff, and along comes Gideon and he says, "Good ." We all know what the censored three-letter word there is, but the less about that, the better.

So, anyway, it gets me thinking. Am I happy with my life? What makes me happy? Is Daniel really that emotially-troubled?

Well, as far as an anti-angst teenager goes, I'm pretty happy with my life. Yay! I got great friends, pressure I can handle, and enough entertaining hobbies to get myself on a high without using drugs. Yup, that's pretty well said and done.

What makes me happy? Well, it's pretty obvious if you know me. Puns, humour, trading card games, time to myself to develop my own trading card games, TNN, etc. But if you're one of those who argue that these only bring material happiness that money can buy, then I have to say that what makes me happy are my friends.

Yes, here we go again, and you'd be expecting me to drone more about my friends and fill the post with quotes and complain why you have been left out of my list. Well, that's not going to happen this time.

I like my friends. I like making them laugh. And when they laugh, I'm happy. So basically, if you're happy, I'm happy. Kapeesh?

Urgh... I want to go on and on, but time prevents me from going further. Good night to all, keep being happy, and have a nice National Day weekend!