Harrow!

It's me again! I still like pencils and Harry Potter is still sexy, and I come bearing photos of me and my nerd friends! (Get it? Bearing? Like the direction? Hahahah *nerd laugh snort snort*)


First up we have, CHA-LOT (pronounced in an aggressive and fast way, CHA-LOT!) and PINNELLA, emphasis on the "PEE" sound.

Of course their real names are not Charlotte and Onnella.


And here we have MARU-CHAN, the slutty schoolgirl with brains AND breasts.


Nerds' favorite food: Mint biscuits with a parrot on the packet. -_- I asked Onnella I mean Pinnella the name of the biscuits and that was the best she could come up with.


Nerds in the dark!




I am so sexy.




We are such EGGCITED nerds! As Cha-lot calls it.

Walking out of the house is a big deal for us! As we all have never done it before ...







We arrived at the restaurant. Look!! More nerds!!! FRIENDS! :D *does star trek fingers and puts on excited face*


*like this*

*some more*


*Cha-lot being ignored*




Cha-lot being disgusting. Ew.




Nerds eating!


Yes unfortunately some of us enjoy cannibalism :(


Obviously only putting this photo in because I'm in it.


Ditto.




Birthday nerd in da house!! Given a birthday hat and some sunglasses (the true definition of oversized). Lucky for him, his giant nerd head could support the hat and glasses. See nerds are useful, yo.




Even cooler as a group.






I told you Harry Potter is sexy.


Why so sad, fellow Korean nerd!!


Nerds doing what they do best, splitting the bill. No joke, this guy, Nerd Fred, is PRO in money matters. He likes Excel, enough said.

ARE WE NERD ENOUGH FOR YOU YET?






More nerding around after the dinner!


Nerds, unite shoewear!!!!!




Nerding at the ... AFTER-PARTY. Which is the compound of Pinnella's condo! Woohoo we sure know how to have fun or what! :D




Being cute.








Phew must lie down from all that PARTYING.


Have a good day!! From us nerds to YOU!

Why I am basically undateable.

I was talking to a guy before and I basically listed out all the things I would do during a date/however long I am with the guy for (which is, on an average, 2 days I would say?) ... and I realized I am so bloody strange.

But if you've spend enough time with me, you basically would know me as the girl who:

1. Says the most random things in the middle of conversation, like "GODDAMNIT WHY DO PEOPLE THINK ROONEY LOOK LIKE SHREK". And that'd be in the middle of a conversation about where we're going to eat tomorrow.

2. Talks way too much about football. Refer to point above.

3. Researches Communist leaders on Google. And launches into an excited long talks about them to you.

4. Has Russian President, Dimitri Medvedev, as her MSN picture because she thinks he's sexy.

5. Has Vladimir Lenin as her Facebook profile picture once ... just because :(

6. Is an extremely overachieving Asian.

7. Is a fervent single life advocate ... which is just strange for a girl. I don't know. (I joined a group called "I'm not a player .. I'm single." - the members were all men.)

8. Is mean.

9. Has the stupidest response for everything.

9a. Asks the stupidest questions.

10. Recognizes her flaws and actually points them out. "Yeah I drove my friend around today. She said never to drive her again ..." - How unattractive is stupidity!!!

11. Is way too passionate about football. Again. When Man Utd did not win the league I felt like I could DIE. Seriously.

12. Talks way too much about herself, which, as you can see from all the points above, is not a good thing.

13. Attempts to speak foreign language or whatever the guy's native language is ... badly. (I sang a Russian guy his national anthem.)

14. Laughs way too much.

15. Has too many weird interests like Russian history, military tanks and men named Vladimir.

16. Constantly pumps herself up - as a joke. "Please I give better head than her." But nature of compliment often destroys joke purpose.

17. Is immature (ie embraces the inner kid in her with people she feels comfortable with, ie curling self into ball and calling self a cat)

18. Is unnecessarily and inappropriately funny. (Refer to point number one.)

19. Actually has goals in life and aims to achieve them over her boyfriend's happiness.

20. Has fucked up feelings because she only has them about once every year so when it does happen, they just happen so weirdly.

21. Has fucked up sleeping patterns, which probably works for all-night-sex but without that, it's really just me in the middle of the night, in your living room, trying to write something ... like now.

Okay I'm going to stop here.

I guess it's good that I like single life anyway, because I am completely undateable. I'm just too radical to be liked by anyone I would possibly like back. If there are about 2000000 men out there for each women, I probably only have ... 5. And I'm sure I've met three of them already.

So two more, God, bring it on.

PS - Hi me again. Sorry God I changed my mind. Don't "bring them on" as I enthuastically asked. I rather not go through the whole "Oh I have feelings?" phase anytime soon. If you bring them to me now, I will most likely shut myself away and the only two hope left for me in this world will slip through my fingers and be forever doomed to like mediocre girls. I think meeting them at 35 would be okay. One at 32, the other at 35. If the first one doesn't work out at least I have a period of recuperation before diving headlong into another one.

I also hope one of their names is BRAD PITT but that's up to you, really.

Urgh.

So is this how it feels like? To want to just put your fist down your throat, grab your intestines and pull them all out and hurl them all over the floor, so you'd feel less disgusted with yourself than you already are?

I find myself here, against everything I believe in. That mopey and pathetic individual, pacing and wondering what could have been.

Enough vague talk. Let's delve right into the gory details.

For some reason, unknown to me and my good judgment, I recently started caring. It started with a little more texts, meaning communication, and a little more phone calls, so more talking - even worse. Communication is the key ... to ruining everything good in man-woman relationship. I am more convinced of it now than ever. With more talking comes the "knowing each other well" part, then comes the "hey he's really not that bad" part, then comes the "I really like his company", and next thing you know you find yourself not wanting to hang up at 3 in the morning and everything you've built your life on is ruined.

Dramatic, but true. With communication comes the understanding that maybe you guys could be meant for each other - which in my world means you're pretty much screwed.

And then slowly the closeness creeps in, and you find yourself thinking about the jokes he made over dinner on your way home, and the times you spent together ... of course these are just the good stuff (well in your world), while for me, it also means you're pretty much screwed.

Now here comes the horrible parts: the wondering, the choices, the insecurity, the fear, the waiting, and waiting, and more waiting.

This is when a 20 minute wait for a text message reply becomes not okay, when you start noticing all the little things and when little things cease to be little things. Before he used to be one of the conversations you have, now he IS the conversation, and you become paranoid if you're his as well. When before you can joke about him meeting other girls but now it becomes painfully impossible to do. When things just start to matter more. When what he thinks about you, when how he feels about you ... become literally all you care about. When you start to expect things, and when they don't happen, you're left sitting alone watching the crowd pass by. When you start to hope (and remember what I've said about this before - don't ever put hope in men. Ever. It's when you put hope that you get crushed), and when you start to look for something out of nothing.

And then the worst part of all kicks in: when you start to fear losing him.

That's the most irrational part of it all. Girls everywhere have done everything they can to stop this from happening, and to stop themselves from feeling insecure, or some just go into shutdown mode and dump the guy before he dumps her. You start to think things, that you would never have when you first met the guy, you start to notice things, you start to talk yourself into thinking he'll leave you soon, for various reasons.

Well FUCK hope, FUCK men, and FUCK feelings. I've gotten a tiny glimpse into your side of the world and I prefer mine, so much more.

Fuck all these uncertainties and fear about ONE guy, when you can be feeling confident and loved with many. I don't need that one guy, and all the complications that come with it. The world of relationships, ironically, is one filled with lies, deception, things done in self-interest, manipulation and more lies to complement all those. How can you ever be sure if a guy is telling the truth? You cannot. And so if he's not, what do you do to stop yourself from caring?

I used to have all these predisposed conditions about how to behave around my boyfriend, should I have one. Like if he lies, or goes out too often, or is getting close to another girl, or takes longer to reply, I wouldn't give a shit because men will be men. You can't change them. They're all assholes, especially if you like the good-looking ones, and I do.

But I forgot that the underlying equation for the above is if I don't actually like the guy very much in the first place (what I'm doing dating him then ... I don't know. I'm impulsive like that don't be surprised). What if I happen to like that guy very much ... would I then do it for his sake to keep him happy or would I say something against it and cause a fight? Knowing me I somehow believe I'll choose the former. (There's only so much "liking" I can do for a guy. I'm too liberal myself to turn into a possessive, controlling bitch. I would rather die than fight with my boyfriend about the length of time he takes to reply my SMS or goes out with his friends.)

If all this is how it feels like to have feelings, I rather not. All that uncertainty, fear and the occasional delight ... how can anyone not be exhausted?! Who actually enjoys this?? I know I don't. I want something stable in my life, and while other people find it in loving relationships, I find it in my single, emotion-less life. Ironic much.

But anyway, the point of this is ... FUCK feelings. Yeah well done you managed to arouse some semblance of feelings in me for a short period of time, but you will not control me! You can't break my heart ... when I didn't have one in the first place. What you did that messed with me for a while was make me think I have a heart, and then proceed to smash this illusionary heart into pieces.

So you can take all these feelings back, and while you're at it you can take all your Mediterranean SHIT back with you too. Goodbye.

Sorry for not blogging, I've been too busy trying to lead my meaningless existence.

IB Exams have been going on for two weeks now, today going into its third week.

I've only been getting two hours of sleep everyday. I take one cup of coffee at midnight, to keep me awake throughout the night, and I take one more in the morning, right before my exams, to keep me awake through that. I am up from 12am to 6am, reading, cramming, processing - I find 3.30am to be my peak time, because then I've gotten so used to the idea of studying and all my initial pain and misery have been overcome by this uncanny enthusiasm, fueled by caffeine and the prospect of doing well.

During a break in exams, I get a lucky four hours of sleep, before waking up and studying like a motherfucker, convincing myself that this is my last chance to make any difference to my grade, that this is the final push before it all comes to an end.

From day to day, that's how I've been living, subsisting on coffee and knowledge. Sleeping was never on my own accord, it happens when I've become too tired that I give in and fall flat onto the wide-opened book in front of me.

I have never properly pulled a blanket over me in three weeks to fall asleep. My naps were unplanned, and when I woke up I chastised myself for them. Facebook means nothing to me anymore ... it's gone to the point where procrastination has lost its delights. I either study, or I don't.

I fall asleep to myself reciting historical events of the 1920s, or the biological processes of cell respiration, and I find myself waking up to some random Math equation that enters my brain.

Two years of hell IB has put me through ... all epitomized in these three weeks. I have become an efficient knowledge machine, which knows no limits, no pain, no fear and no failure.

I only ate regularly so I wouldn't fall sick, I only communicated with the outside world if it benefited my exams, studying was the only way I could function now .... I am a lean, mean, thinking machine.

You think you've suffered in your course? Each of you here feels the agony, but none of you, not one, suffers as much as I do. (This is a line from Oedipus the King, which I read and analyzed for 48 hours.) None of you have suffered, until you have come under the wrath of IB.

But it's coming to an end. In three days, it will all come to an end. In three days, I will be free from all this madness, no longer a victim of jokes like, "IB schools have signs to warn parents that kids will throw themselves in front of their cars." or "I would kill myself, but I don't have the time for it." No more ... I say. It ends here. Soon. In three days.

I will be free. IB will no longer live my life for me. And I ... will ... be .... free.

Some day people will ask me the story of my life. They will ask me, how did you do it? And I will tell them this story of my meaningless existence in the face of a cruel, uncaring God: the IB program.

This is why I don't have a boyfriend.

Watch it and I guarantee you it will be the best 32 seconds of your life.

Honestly with guys this hot out there, why would you want to be attached?! To one guy?! Really?

I cannot understand monogamy.

My room is a refuge camp for knowledge.

An oversized person wearing a hat.


Oversized person's room during exam period.


Funny picture.


Another funny picture. (Those are grad hat tassels btw.)


A hot guy. Married to ugly woman.

I refuse to refer to myself in the first person during this intense exam period ... fuck I just did it. (I JUST DID IT AGAIN.) It is to abate guilt for blogging.

Ahhh back to the study camp!!

Just some things that the IB exams have taught me (and my friends) (so far) (FYI it's only been one day of IB exams)

Note, this is not what the entire IB course has taught me. Listing that would take the patience and wisdom of Mahatma Gandhi. This is what the IB exams, which I am currently braving through right now, has taught me.

1. Aiming lower makes life so much easier.

2. Waiting for Youtube videos to load will give you reason to sneak in some revision. Watching a video called Al-Qaeda Parody Eye of the Tiger will not.

3. Having a friend freaking out on your Facebook wall posting poems like this:

MAY ZHEE I MISS YOU SO.
BUT THEN I REALIZE THAT I MUST GO.
FOR YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE HOE.
I DECIDED IT'S JUST TOO LOW.
YOU MAKE ME WANNA GO K.O.

(stanza 2)
LIMB LIMB, YOU KNOW I LOVE IT WHEN YOU SING SING.
FOR IT MAKES ME WANNA GO TING TING. (HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH)
THEN THE PENI GOES BING BING!
IT'S KINDA LIKE A LING LING,
YOU FORGOT YOUR BLING BLING.

... does not help.

4. Having all your friends freaking out together on Facebook and you joining them ... does not help.

5. You posting a message that goes, "Dear Facebook citizens, please do not hold the MKIS Seniors 2010 accountable for any of the things they do/write/say in these three weeks. We are merely going insane at the stress of exams. Thank you." ... does not help.

6. Having the urge to blog repeatedly, especially in the middle of exams, DOES NOT HELP.

7. Changing your profile pictures on Facebook repeatedly does not help. (Onnella I am talking to you.)

8. Watching Gossip Girl and listening to your brother freak out about his lack of glue instead of studying for your exams ... do not help. (Kristi, please.)

9. Asking the whole world where is Shereen does not help.

10. Still typing this does not help.

11. Why am I still on.

12. Omg I'm so stressed help me.

13. I'M SORRY I REALLY MEANT FOR THIS TO BE A VALID LIST.

14. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH STRESSED OUT.

PS - I feel like I should rename this "Things that do not help for IB exams."

Vertical Horizon

Is it just me or do you start to like the things that you used to hate as a kid as you get older?

Like ... the idea of education, some responsibilities here and there, a little quiet time, your parents, yourself? I really believe that all these are benchmarks for the maturity of a person. I mean, how much can you say about someone who hates learning, hates being responsible, hates peace, hates their parents and hates ... themselves?

But anyway, I discovered something the other day that just unlocked a part of my childhood to me: Vertical Horizon.

I remember I used to hate them ... or tried my very best to disregard them, the very least. And I remembered why. It was because the lead singer was bald, they had a boring name and basically they just weren't the type of band I would want to put on my bedroom wall. Back then I liked Britney Spears and Backstreet Boys - singers I actually wouldn't mind telling people that I liked because they had good hair. Or actually had hair.

For some reason I also really liked music that allowed me to jump around a lot. Like, Bye Bye Bye ... or Don't stop! Never give up! You get the idea.

Today, quite obviously, the music I like is so different. Well with that kind of music taste as a child it really doesn't take much effort to be different but still. I like Coldplay, whom I absolutely despised as a child (I thought their songs were boring and pointless. I also thought they were an ugly band. Now they're the meaning of life to me ... and I might actually find Chris Martin cute. Actually still no. Sorry). I like John Mayer, whom I tried very hard to be indifferent to. I was okay with Your Body's a Wonderland, I thought his others songs were bland - never as cool as Oops I Did It Again! - and I thought he was ugly. Today I'd marry John Mayer, I frequently quote his lyrics and his songs will be played in my life until the day I die.

I think as I grew older I started to look for more calmness and meaning in the things I like. It's a strange feeling to look back into my past, extract something out of it and put it in my life today. Like Vertical Horizon. I listened to all their songs again, songs once so familiar to me, and I really liked them.

You really do start to like the things you never thought you would as a kid, when it was all about the impression. Also when I grew older my capacity to appreciate things, even those I might normally consider boring (chess, cricket, classical music ... not my intention that they all start with a 'c'), increases. Thing is I'm probably still growing as I type this, and it makes me wonder what kind of things I would start to like when I'm 40. Maybe chess ...