Saturday, June 23, 2007
There really is something very telling about the female psyche and its obstinately high-maintenance mindset when the words "torture" and "fun" appear to have equal meaning.
Check out this conversation I had with a friend yesterday, while braving the sweltering heat at a local open-air bazaar chock-full of supposedly "good deals" and "cool stuff" (not my words) :
"I'm so hot, I could just melt on the sidewalk right now!"
"Well, if you're so hot, why are you still fanatically searching for jeans?" I asked.
She grunted in reply as she continued perusing the racks.
A little while later, as she paraded herself in front of me after having tried on a pair of jeans, she panted, red-faced, "You know, I really don't know if its the crazy heat, but I think my thighs have expanded and now these jeans are so tight on me I could just burst! Do you think they look nice on me?"
"They're OK," I replied nonchantly, having seated myself uncomfortably on a footstool as I steeled myself for a long wait outside the fitting room.
"Ugh, I'm so frigging hot I think I'm sweating swimming pools! This is the worst torture anyone could undergo!" She complained, even as she spun around and admired herself in the sliver of mirror at the storefront.
"Well, then let's get out of here quick and go for a drink!" I sighed exasperatedly.
"What? And spoil my fun?"
I stand corrected.
the histronics of suburbia;| 3:24:00 PM
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Yes, I do realise how long its been since my last update, and by now, I'm probably the only person to set eyes on this domain. Myself, and of course, as I've recently been enlightened to of its existence, my Faithful Following.
But you'll have to forgive me because like all the other victims of the Establishment, I have been subjected to merciless workloads, senseless camaraderie and worthless commitments (cue screams of
stop being such a cynic) - my shoulder has been worn thin by the heavily spiked wheel. But suffice to say that I do feel a smattering of guilt for abandoning this page and allowing stereotypes to abound - I do have to confess to having an Active social life as of late - it's been on overdrive, in fact. So much so that I've supposedly been scewing around restaurants with Lisa, as someone so
affectionately puts it, and I could probably pen a book titled
Urban Dining 101. And although this probably isn't the most humourous or pleasant article you would have liked to read, the following is a follow-up to the list of annoyances I drafted up donkey months ago:
5 things not to do under any circumstances in my presence (not presented in any order) 1. NEVER EVER walk, file, write, pack, or eat slow when you're with me. I mean, seriously, I know the phrase
stop to smell the roses, but its not as if you live in the Botanic Gardens. For the
perfect example of the embodiment of sluggish, time-consuming, dawdling, refer to francesca's life, who's many inadequacies speed-wise have made me slower than Piggy.
2. NEVER EVER tell me I'm a cynic. I'm just being a
realist who is, at the very least enlightened to hellish fate we have been forced to conform for by the Establishment, unlike those who link arms with their peers swaying along to absurd jingles at meaningless celebrations. Ignorance is
NOT bliss.
3. NEVER EVER instruct me or tell me what to do unless you are of a higher authority - and by higher authority, I do not mean wealthier, smarter, taller,
shorter, more arrogant, or simply because you can play a musical instrument, etcetra. Nobody gets command over my life. And I am not being defiant.
4. NEVER EVER cancel on me last minute. I am not an incoming call which you can put on hold. For an example of the extent to which I have been subjected to eleventh hour cancellations, just know that I have already conveniently coined the phrase
pulling a francesca to mean bailing out on me 1 second before the date.
5. NEVER EVER judge me or tell me I'm mean. I do/say things for a reason, and I'm simply not being hypocritical, which many people on the Death List evidently are. My being mean just means I have more values than the shit on the List.
the histronics of suburbia;| 11:44:00 PM
Thursday, April 06, 2006
10 things not to ever do under any conditions in my presence (presented in order of annoyance level, 1 being the greatest, 10 being slightly less)1. NEVER EVER under any circumstances bend, crease, fold, dog-ear, furrow, crimple, crinkle, crumple, scrunch, shrivel, wad, or wrinkle MY PAPER.
2. NEVER EVER start unanimously chanting my name whenever something even remotely mechanical malfunctions. Do you not know that TWO AV reps exist? IT rep means rectifying or running COMPUTER-related programs, not getting aquainted with Mr Morris every 2 days. I'm sure he concurs with this statement.
(Refer to Shirlynn's new duty regime, due to be implemented Monday, 10 April)
3. NEVER EVER ask me when physics file, worksheets or performance tasks are due. How long will it take for the fact that I DON'T take physics to drum in? I don't give a shit about kinematics and velocity graphs and whatnot.
4. NEVER EVER make me do ridiculously inane acts just for communal amusement. That includes kissing the cover of literature play, galloping like a centaur, or
, god forbid, curtseying.
5. NEVER EVER address me by my last name without prior permission by ME.
6. NEVER EVER speak slowly in my presence. Seriously, its not a leisurely day by the pool, its a day blighted by school.
7. NEVER EVER question the reason for me eating (
insert sickening, puke-worthy cafetaria food) on certain days, or fallaciously claim its my favourite food. Honestly, what do you think I eat at home, rubber-bands?
8. NEVER EVER ask me for my home phone number. I don't know it, and I'll never tell anyone. I am NOT a HOTLINE.
9. NEVER EVER tell me to shut up when I'm being concerned for (
insert whomever's name)'s welfare. Concerned would actually entail
asking and
suggesting, don't you think? And (
insert whomever's name) wonders why I'm not more supportive henceforth.
10. NEVER EVER prod the button on my pencil torchlight-cum-keychain on my pencil case, after which yell for me abruptly and thrust the light in my eyes. Are we so simple-minded that we derive amusement through these means? I would think a good sitcom (neither Korean nor Chinese, preferbly American) should do the trick.
I apologise for the unintentional almost 3-month long siesta from this page, but a certain something called
school and
fatigue got in the way. After which the above annoyances set in. Hence this entry.
the histronics of suburbia;| 6:19:00 PM
Friday, January 20, 2006
ANDDD I HAVE SURVIVED OBS HEAR ME ROARR IN JUBILANCE.
And even though it was as bad as I thought it would be, hygiene-wise, it was still funfunfun. With a capital F.
Well except for our inconceivably back-breaking, foot-blistering trek (during which I was stumbling about blindly looking for a ready made grave to tumble into, until nat's insistence that I die in style prevailed), and the sandfly colony's feast on us, I guess I've otherwise escaped unscathed.
I swear the moment I stripped off in the bushes it was like a unanimous start of an all-you-can-eat sandfly buffet on my wrinkled skin. Which of course would explain my being smothered in chicken little ((: and garfield plasters for the whole of this week, and my looking like a walking billboard for Toys R Us (as my incredulous classmates and teachers can very well attest to).
Butbut still. Everything from jetty jump (I jumped thrice I think I'm becoming an adrenaline junkie) to kayak capsize drill (nat and I were so terrified of sea snakes we refused to extend our legs for one second in the sea) and even the notorious Storm Night in our bashas was fun(:
And even though we all fell asleep draped over each other (francesca slept on my stomach and the next day I was wondering why it suddenly felt so easy to breathe) and had 3 am breakfasts consisting of dilute Ovaltine and digestives, I guess what made it all the more thrilling was the unpresedence of it all.
But that does not constitute to the fact that Shirlynn does not appreciate civilisation. I swear when I got back and first saw escalators and automatic sliding doors I wanted to whoop aloud and cry at the same time.
And even while all we have left to look forward to are commonwealth essays and meaningless diplomacies over chinese new year, we can't deny that clean, salt-free showers and Twix bars are heaven on earth (pardon the trite expression) after OBS.
the histronics of suburbia;| 11:26:00 PM
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
You know, I really beginning to think I shouldn't doubt the credibility of those sappy Chinese soap operas in which the females lament about the sardonic twist of Fate.
By the way, a small point of interest: I was globetrotting for the entire month of December and half of November so you'll forgive my absence on the cyber scene.
But I digress. Seriously, it's as though I'm being mocked for not hopping onto the filthy bandwagon. It's enough to make me wanna drown myself in the scotch (all any other type of alcohol, for that matter) I got drunk with over Christmas and New Year's.
And since blogging has now become the most harzardous thing to do after sky diving and performance tasks, I guess I shouldn't divulge details.
Let the countdown to D-day begin.
the histronics of suburbia;| 10:12:00 PM
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Wake up and sniff the shit, everyone!
Hypocrisy is the name of the game. I kid you not.
Happy Halloween(:
the histronics of suburbia;| 12:01:00 AM
Friday, October 21, 2005
I refuse to blog now.
Well, technically I am, but let's just ignore that.
Watch this space.
the histronics of suburbia;| 9:56:00 PM
