Violently trolled

...I'm so mad I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

So I was in my room, feeling all refreshed because I just had a shower. Dad walks past the room: "OI, I NEED TO USE YOUR PHONE." So I responded with a "mmmmhrgnnnn" or some other variation of the same indiscernible sound. Dad then goes to the garage and drives off.

After I'd done whatever was at hand, I decide to fetch my phone, since Dad needs to use it. So then I look for it. I flip through the stash of papers on my desk, and I don't find anything. I usually don't leave my phone out of sight. 5 minutes later, I still haven't found anything. Looking at the state of my room, I guess I wasn't too surprised. It's going to be in here somewhere.

How it feels to walk in my room^

I shout over to my roommate, "I think I lost my phone." Being the wonderful and helpful and lov-er-ly person he is, he calls my phone. Now our house is heaps quiet, but we still can't hear anything. I don't recall setting my phone to silent. My ringtone is pretty loud.

So we walk around the house, listening out for my phone--- nothing. I think back to the last time I saw my phone: I was sitting on the bus, and my roommate had called me. I answered it. Maybe I'd forgotten to put my phone back in my pocket after I'd answered the call? Now I start to feel uneasy, but I reassured myself that I'd taken it off the bus with me, at least, because I thought I vaguely remembered having it on me whilst I was walking home from the bus stop.

Maybe I dropped it on the way. At this point my roommate offered to look outside with me. Not bothering to change, I walk outside (4 degrees Celsius) in my PJs and sneakers. He grabs a torch, and we walk down to the bus stop on this chilly night. He continues to call my phone on the way, but to no avail. I couldn't find my phone with the torch, and neither of us could hear my phone ringing.

We walked the dark, treacherous roads like two lone hunters, stalking the night.

Dismayed, we go home. On the way my roommate tries to comfort me in a not-very-comforting way. "See if it was my Mum, she's just say oh don't you worry about it, don't feel sad, we'll just buy a new one. Your Dad, however..." I wince as I imagine what Dad would say if he knew I lost my phone. He wanted to use it tomorrow, too. It is a rather expensive phone- and he wouldn't want to replace it.

"Maybe you could blame it on your Dad, just like how he blames things on you," my roommate offers. "Say that if he didn't tell me to call you tonight, you wouldn't have taken the phone out of your pocket, and if you hadn't taken the phone out of your pocket, you wouldn't have lost it." (I got home later than usual and Dad told my roommate to call me because he was out of credit himself)

As much as I'd like to follow my roommate's suggestion, I knew deep down that it wasn't feasible.

When we got home, he got the idea to call my Mum. My parents had gone out together, so maybe Dad had already taken my phone when he told me that he needed it. Except... we'd called my phone a million times. If he had it on him, why didn't he answer? However, I was eager to entertain that sliver of hope, and I dialed Mum's number.

"Mum... I lost my phone. Does Dad---"
"OH YEAH HE TOOK IT WITH HIM, IT'S OKAY DON'T WORRY"
"I WAS SO WORRIED. I WENT OUTSIDE AND LOOKED FOR IT AND---"

Mum laughs, says something along the lines of "GTG KTHXBAI" and hangs up.

I was furious. In fact, I still am.

Open Night

Our school had its annual Open Night today- and like every other year, it was boring as fuck. I've been to it 3 times, the first time as a visitor, and the other 2 times as a guide. So for those of you who don't know, I take every hardcore Asian subject except for physics, and because I'm slowly turning into a good-at-nothing-white-kid (this is coming from my parents) I also took/take subjects like economics, psychology and philosophy. Basically it's maths, science and humanities.

Now, the people who came to our school today- I don't even know why, maybe they all came from Queanbeyan- but they wanted nothing to do with maths or science or English.

Me: Specialist maths is GREAT! We have sooooo much fun!
Parents/child: Nah, that's a bit too much work. I think general maths will be fine. Just enough to get by.

I did not just hear that.

See, in terms of maths, from high to low, it goes:

Specialist--->Methods--->Apps---------------------------------->General

Why would you even bother with general- such a waste of time. If you know how to use a calculator, you can skip general.  And  if you want to try maths without a calculator- well you already have too much of a brain for general maths. I reckon we could put monkeys in that class... and the monkeys would be better company. 

Anyway they weren't so interested in science either- even though we had all these cool reactions in chem and a magnet thingo in physics. And no one is ever enthusiastic about English... I guess that's just a given.

So what did they want to do? Psychology? Business? Politics? Nooooooooooooooooo.

They wanted art. Woodwork. Music. See, as much as I love my school, our reputation really doesn't come from those faculties. I'd say we were more academically focused- and by academically focused I mean we're all social recluses who are into maths, science, *some* humanities and--- okay, no one is into English, except for me. But that's not the point. The point is, art sucks shit. Yeah, that.

And the people I showed around were stone dead. This lady refused to smile or something. I was doing my best to pick conversation- "Yeah our school is great. Look there's the library. I take 5 subjects." But noooo, she preferred to keep her stern expression, surveying everything with boredom. FFS.

Overall I'd say the whole guiding experience was sorta shit. I guess I just don't like telling people I know shit all about art over and over again. I mean, I DO draw, but nobody cares. However, there was free tea, AND we got pizza for dinner. I guess they had to feed us so that we'd entertain those miserable visitors. 

Believe me, the feeling of boredom was mutual. 

I should've just loitered around the maths room...

The Price of Being Spoiled Rotten

Everything comes with a cost- being spoiled is no different. As a sort of sacrifice for good food, a warm bed and all my technological gadgets, I put up with my parents' constant bitching. It's like for everything I gain I have to suffer another thoughtless comment they spout out of their mouth. A small price, one might think- I put up with a bit of bitching and I get material things in return. But dear lord the psychological strain is almost unbearable.

I could use one of these.

Driving with Dad to school is one of those cases. Sure I'm fortunate enough to have a car to practise with in the morning- and fortunate enough to have someone instruct me- but to be honest I'd rather not have his instructions. Over a short stretch of road he alternates between "speed up" and "slow down" 5 times. "Give way to that car," he says, "but while you're at it, accelerate."

Maybe I'm just a lousy driver- but after that I got mad (which is bad, considering the fact that I'm driving). So I told him to shut up, because I'm not deaf. Yeeeeah, I went there. Naturally he became more furious than I could ever display overtly, and blabbered on about how he keeps telling me because I don't follow his instructions. Now if I had any sense in me, I would not have talked back- but if I had sense in me, I wouldn't have picked the fight in the first place.

"Well what kind of response didya expect? Why don't you look with your eyes and observe how I'm speeding up and slowing down?"

Man it felt good when I said it, but then the way he carried on afterwards made me regret it. Apparently he wanted a verbal response for everything he said- a "yes" to indicate that I'd heard. See, that would be fine, EXCEPT HE DOESN'T SHUT UP. It takes about 40min for me to drive to school- and HE WILL KEEP TALKING FOR THE ENTIRE TRIP. The stuff he says is infuriating, as well.

"Make your own judgments, you're driving," he'd say. Then when I decide to stop at a roundabout he'd scream at me to go. It is my fault that I haven't been appraising the situation beforehand--- but since I hadn't done that, I might as well stop and take a look. Sure I'm holding up traffic, but it's better than going in and crashing into some car. He gets angry every time a car overtakes me, and he yells me to go faster- "LOOK, PEOPLE ARE GETTING ANNOYED AT YOU."

This oddly reminds me of Dad.

Well, whoop-dee-do, I don't give a fuck what they think. They're responding appropriately to their frustrations by overtaking me- and you know what? I'm fine with that.

So the point is, I cannot be bothered replying to every comment he makes, BECAUSE HE DOESN'T STOP MAKING THEM. I'd have to say "yes, yes, yes, yes" non-stop for the whole trip- and it's fucking annoying. His talking is actually so distracting. I'm trying to concentrate and he's constantly nagging, like some ugly background noise...

Oh wow, look at that. My rant just spilled all over the page. I haven't even gotten to complaining about Mum yet. Well, until next time...

General Complaints

There seems to be a blur between the time I woke up and the present. I think back to what happened today and realised I cannot remember shit. Maybe sleep deprivation is bad for me after all... Looking at my timetable, I can recall what had happened in each class, but I don't remember it as a collective. Maybe I have a brain tumor...

Legit.

The weather proved to be miserable, as usual, and I JUST FUCKING HATE WINTER. If it's too cold I freeze, and if it's too warm I feel sleepy. Not good, considering how much work I have yet to do. I'm so glad I wrote the English essay that was due today ages ago... Otherwise I'd be tired as hell right now.

The next couple of weeks look like a colossal pain. I don't know how I'm going to get through. However, my birthday IS steadily approaching, so there's always something to look forward to. So, if you know me personally...

PREPARE YOUR PRESENTS, BITCHES.

(It's fine if you don't know me personally, just send me your bank account no. and password through email.)

Sunday Night Out

I don't have much of a social life or an interest in social activities, and when I do, it certainly doesn't sound like something someone my age would be interested in. I guess "Sunday Night Out" implies I went to a club and partied hard or something- but no, I ended up going to the theater and watching a production of Macbeth. Classy, eh?

The play was enjoyable, except I froze to death inside the theater... I couldn't understand how the ladies who played the Witch, Lady Macbeth and Lady Macduff could bear the cold. Their clothes were kinda revealing (they all have nice bodies. Lady Macbeth has niiiice legs). Then some of the male actors (can't remember their roles) had to go topless as well... I don't even remember the context- and I know this is sounding like some crappy Twilight spin-off, but I assure you (poor, uneducated, miserable excuse for a human), Shakespeare is legit. 

I had dinner at McDonald's--- I wasn't too hungry before then, but by the time I DID feel hungry, McDonald's was the only place open. At least it gave me an excuse to order a Happy Meal- I hadn't had one for YEARS. I still remember the chic's expression when I told her I wanted a Happy Meal.
"Uhm, what kind of Happy Meal do you like?"
I stare at her dumbly. "Er, what do you have?"
She replies in a cute Asian accent: "We have cheeseburger, nuggets---"
"Cheeseburger"
"Would you like a toy?"

Oh hell yes. That's the whole reason I wanted a Happy Meal.

Then she assumed I wanted the boys' toy, and I was like, NO I WANT THE GIRLS' ONE. I heard from a friend who worked at McDonald's that the girls' toy was a figurine from My Little Pony. OH HOW COULD I POSSIBLY RESIST?

Here it is...

So, highlight of the week- me watching Macbeth (typical behavior of a 60yr old with appreciation for literature) and buying a Happy Meal (typical behavior of a 6yr old who is obsessed with stupid TV shows).

I'm a sorry wreck, aren't I?

Driving II

I had my first driving lesson the other day- it was fucking miserable. It was dark and rainy, and my instructor wouldn't shut up about how I had to take things one step at a time. Wasn't his fault, tbh- it's a generic thing to say- but I'm easily irritated. I hate driving anyway.

Then today, whilst talking about my driving lesson, Mum got irritated that I only passed 4/22 of the competencies. Then I asked Dad to try a different instructor, preferably someone who talks less, and Mum blew up at me.

Not quite so literally, but close enough.

"YOU CAN'T JUST GIVE ALL THE RESPONSIBILITY TO YOUR DAD," she screamed, and I wonder how such a small and slender woman is capable of producing sounds loud enough to rupture my eardrums. "IT'S YOUR OWN FAULT THAT YOU WON'T GET YOUR OWN INSTRUCTOR."

",,,Well, I don't really want to drive anyway"

Ouch. I wince at my past self. That was almost the worst thing I could've said at the time. In hindsight, I should have probably just accepted the fact that everything was inevitably my fault. I suppose it IS my fault that I'm being so ungrateful- my parents ARE paying for my lessons, after all. We have a car for me to drive, they're willing to practise with me--- the only problem is me.

Then my mother said something along the lines of, "Well I suppose forcing you to drive is no good, should we try begging next?" I don't like her sarcasm. "Let's see how you feel when your license expires, and you have to take another test to get it. In fact, let's just wait until you're off in Uni, and you're gonna have to pay for your own lessons. I wonder how enthusiastic you'll be then."

...I'm not sure what I did to warrant such bitter statements. There are nicer ways to communicate what she wanted me to understand- my license is going to expire, and instructors are expensive. I just wish she wasn't so...

I guess I wish for too much.

"Actually, I'd prefer a chauffeur"

I retreated to my room afterwards, and even through closed doors I could hear her unmistakable loud voice, talking about me. I'm not sure whether she wanted me to hear- but every time she had talked behind my back, I've pretty much been able to catch the gist of the conversation. I hate her voice. I really, really do.

If you're going to say shit about me whilst I'm not there, at least make sure that I can't hear, geez. Otherwise, I guess you can always tell me to my face. Hearing this kind of stuff is the worst...

...Man, the shit I cop for not being able to drive a car.

Rain, wind and my angry mother

I hate the weather. This isn't the first (and it won't be the last) time I complained about the weather. The sun sets so quickly- I'm barely aware of the fact that sunlight exists. The warmth from the sun is not enough to sustain me, and I feel like I'm going to freeze to death without a heater. Today it rained. Wasn't heavy rain, but it was windy rain- and when it scraped against my beautiful, soft, dazzling face it hurt like a bitch. Why can't it be summer? At least the rain is welcome then...

When I finally got home, I was tired as hell. Mum called me out to dinner- and whilst getting rice from our rice cooker- actually, this is too stereotypical for me to tell the story with a straight face. Asian + rice cooker + angry mother = lolz. Anyway, all you need to know is that she got mad at me, and in her fit of fury she managed to knock over a bowl and spill oil all over the floor. She was rather unpleasant afterwards.

Unpleasant is an understatement.

She was super-duper angry and upset and decided to vent it out on me. At least she didn't scream, because she had the decency to realise that it was her who made the spill. However, she managed to blame it all on me in the end, because if I hadn't been so retarded she wouldn't have been mad at me, and then the spill wouldn't have occurred. LOGIC. Of course it was my fault. I just like, bring bad luck to the house or something.

This won't be me, but it will somehow become my fault.

Life sucks.

Windows 7

I got a different OS yesterday... and now everything on my computer feels different. I know Windows 7 has been out for ages... I was one of the unlucky people who bought the last batch of  computers with Windows Vista as the OS. I hadn't actually experienced that many problems with Vista... My computer wasn't too slow and it didn't freeze or anything- but I upgraded to Windows 7 anyway.

Until everything on my computer changed, I hadn't realised how many customizations I'd had. I thought it was just the desktop--- but noooo, I had different colored windows, different display pictures--- even different fonts with different colors. It turns out that I couldn't adjust to the new look of my computer, so I spent ages trying to revert everything back to what it was before I installed Windows 7. It was tedious... but I suppose it was my fault that I couldn't live with my font color being black- since I had a grey-blue before.

Life is hard indeed.

Windows 8 is going to come out soon... I'm sort of dreading its release. My computer still feels so incredibly new and modern, even though I got it from... 3 years ago? Actually, 3 years isn't that long. I hope this one will last me for ages. I love technology- I just wish I had enough money to keep up with its advancements.

Anyway- Windows 7 is not bad. The look is rather stylish- I like the task bar at the bottom. Everything's going to take some getting used to, but I should manage...

Ergh, it takes so much effort though.

Wasting Time

I've been doing that a lot these days. In fact, I'm wasting time right now. So are you, I presume, since you're reading this. I'm always in that mood where I KNOW I have a lot of work, but I just don't really want to do it. I don't even feel panicked- it's all okay... I don't mind. Maybe I just need to sleep- but I sleep plenty. Calculus just doesn't seem particularly attractive at the moment, though I know I can get it done before I go to bed tonight, if I wanted--- I guess the point is I don't really want to.

I want to turn the above picture into a poster, and stick it on my wall somewhere. It'd be the biggest motivator. Or maybe I'd just get distracted staring at it. I don't know. I hardly know what I'm typing right now. I'm just enjoying that feeling where I don't have to look down at the keyboard to know what I'm typing, and as I think the words just appear on screen. 

Zebra

That image was obviously relevant. Even though I'm now wasting my precious time- I wish I had more. I have a lot of work from different faculties, but because they're all clumped together, I've sort of lost sight of what's more important- and as a result I'm doing nothing at all. I may or may not get back to my maths, or I can just waste more of your time and mine by babbling on about nothing in particular. It's quite a pleasant feeling, actually, typing for the sake of typing and watching words magically appear on your screen.

Okay, I have self control... I'm going to go. And do maths. Yes, it will happen. Bye.

...

...

...

But, before I go---

LOOK IT'S A MAGICAL CLOUD!

Careers Expo!

Perhaps one of the most exciting things ever- the careers expo. It's a little show- where these different tertiary institutions come along and talk to us about course information. Sounds boring, right? Yeah well, it is.  

Howeverrrrrr, to attract our attention, these people give out FREE STUFF. I know this sounds scrub, but come on, I'm Asian, and NO TRUE ASIAN WILL PASS BY FREE STUFF. It's a good exercise for developing my sense of shamelessness anyway. They don't give out anything big- mostly pens, little toys with logos on them- but I guess it's the thrill of just getting all this stuff. They set up these little stands: and on there they display their goods: kind of like a market, really. This year I've gotten worse: I wait until the "store owners" turn away, or until they're distracted, then I snatch something from the desk and disappear from sight. Not that gaol awaits me if I get caught, buuuut... they might talk to me. Ergh, how absolutely dreadful.

At times it's hard to distract them: if it's a small stand, then there's not much choice. You'd have to actually approach the person. That's generally the uncomfortable part... So there was this one stand which had these orange pens, but there was a guy standing there, acting like a guardian. We had to talk- and he wouldn't shut up for ages. I guess I should've just asked: "Hey can I have a pen?" Given their purposes there though, that might've seemed a little rude (not that I care)- and well- he was rather intimidating. I stood there, watching his mouth move, not hearing a single word he was saying- and all this time I eyed the pens. I don't think he realised my true intentions, because he just kept going on and on and on- with great enthusiasm.

In the end I got my pen and all was well- but maaan it was tiring. When I walked out however I felt as if I'd returned from a great adventure- and now I have all this loot I literally plundered. Hmm... you might say that I felt... victorious.

What a wonderful day!

Driving

I'm at that age where I can technically get my license, but I happen to be a person who hates driving. Sure there's the thrill and convenience and w/e, but I'd really prefer a chauffeur with a limousine. Today I had to drive to school, which is on the other side of the city/town/village/hell hole which I currently reside. Given that I was up writing my essay last night, you can imagine how frustrating it was for me. I finished my essay at 5.48am, then I had to wake by 7. I might as well have forgone sleep. I didn't feel particularly tired, but it is as if someone is pounding the insides of my head.

The worst part of the driving experience was driving with Dad. He is a reeeal pain. Sometimes I appreciate it, as it is the only time where he shows concern for my well-being, but most of the time I wish he'd just stfu. At every single turn he told me to slow down, ignoring the fact that I had already slowed down before he'd said anything. "Okay, take your foot off the accelerator... okay now hit the breaks... yes go slowly, watch your speed." See, that sounds fine, except it was repeated at EVERY TURN. What was more infuriating was the fact that he kept on telling me to speed up when other cars overtook me. YES I drive slowly, BECAUSE I LACK DRIVING EXPERIENCE AND DON'T WANT TO KILL MYSELF. It's like he thinks we're in a racing game or something... Then when I actually DID speed up, he'd tell me off for going over the speed limit. I could have a flipped a table.

Some of his instructions are just the most--- I don't even know how to describe it. Here's what he said:
"Alright put your foot on the break. Okay now accelerate."
Oh okay Dad, I'll just--- NO. Fuck, I feel like I'm being trolled, but why would Dad do that when I'M the
 one driving the car? Mum says I should just ignore him, but then what's the point of having him as a driving instructor?

...I have to drive to school tomorrow as well. I really do hate driving. FML.

Writing

In case you haven't figured, I quite enjoy writing. Look at the length of my posts- everyone else posts pictures or links- I write massive chunks of text. Given that I write so much, it comes as quite a surprise, when I find myself staring at my English essay composed of a grand total of 20 words. I've been sitting in front of the computer since 10 in the morning. It is now sunset. If I had 60 times the amount of words I currently have, I'd be finished... Did I mention this thing is due tomorrow?

It's not that I'm completely devoid of ideas- in fact I have an excess of them. The thought-to-paper process isn't a challenge for me either, and incorporating pretentious and mundane words into my essay is never a problem. My biggest hindrance, it seems, is my complete lack of motivation.

"IT'S DUE TOMORROW! YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT YOUR 1200 WORD ESSAY'S DUE TOMORROW AND YOU HAVE 20 WORDS WRITTEN," my inner voice reminds me. To which I calmly reply: "It's not even 3am yet."

Yes, I do have a habit of talking to myself (though not out loud). I have a very dedicated wisp of thought living in my head, constantly reminding me of how much work I have- and how little I've done. I ignore it most of the time. I've sat in front of the computer twiddling my thumbs, reading a couple of interesting articles here and there, occasionally turning to my phone for a few games of Angry Birds. Perhaps the source of my complacency stems from the fact that I know my essay will be ready by tomorrow. I have never failed myself, ever. As stressful as it was, I have always managed. This time, it will be no different.

However, I wish I could avoid that stage of last minute panic. Though it is as productive as I will ever be, it is not a pleasant position to be in. I have come to enjoy my many hours of sleep- reverting to my previous patterns of 4 hours a night is a rather disagreeable idea.

...And as ever, I am procrastinating. Hell, the fact that you are reading this is evidence of it. If I had written my essay instead of this post, I daresay I'd be 1/3 of the way there.

Oh, life and it's ironies.

Music

Sometimes I play the same song
Over and over, all day long.


Maybe I'm the only one who does that. I go through these phases, where I have one song (or just the chorus of one song) stuck in my head. It's not unpleasant- in fact I quite enjoy it. Then I end up playing that one song over and over, at inconsiderate volumes. The people around me usually complain before I get tired. When I get tired of a certain song I won't listen to it for weeks, perhaps even months, so that when I do hear it again I recall how much I used to like it.

Right now I'm experiencing a phase where I feel sick of every song in my library- because I've had most of them on one-repeat...

So I started listening to CNBLUE. It's a Korean band... and they have surprisingly good music. Not that I'm trying to be racist or anything, but I've come to regard Korean music as trash. I blame the people around me  for continuously blasting shitty K-Pop and telling me how awesome it is. I wish people would understand that just because a girl-group has beautiful members with sexy legs and wonderful skin--- I digress. As attractive as they may be, their music can still be unbearable. Same goes for the boy bands. Yes I like their bodies, their post-plastic surgery faces and their flashy dance moves--- but the music- blergh. I even hesitate to call it music.

CNBLUE gives me hope- I wish they were more popular. Then the people around me would play decent music for once...

Oh, did I mention--- all the members of CNBLUE are rather attractive?

Sudden Realization

You know how most teenagers take care to hide explicit content from their parents, right? I thought I was like that, until all of a sudden, I realised how careless I was. For example, I am now blasting a song called "Tonight I'm Fucking You", and I'm sure you can hear from quite a distance. It's a nice song, actually. I remember liking the MV as well...

I have my 3 volumes of the Fifty Shades trilogy sprawled out across the floor- as I have previously mentioned (many, many times), the books are essentially literary porn. If you flip to a random page chances are the characters are making out in some way. Good thing my parents have no interest in my books.

There's also the matter of having roughly 20G of porn on my hard-drive. It's not mine, but I haven't deleted it. My computer does not require a password to access, and my mother uses it when she feels like it... Sometimes I'm grateful for her computer illiteracy- but at other times it gives me a deep sense of exasperation.

This reminds me of the other time, when I had something bad open (can't exactly remember what), and I left the window minimised. I went out for a walk, came back, and Mum was sitting in my chair using my computer. That almost gave me a heart attack. The sort of heart attack you'd get if you ate 100 cheeseburgers. Judging from the fact that I'm still alive, you should have deducted that she didn't notice my minimised window.

Dad takes my phone away with him sometimes- because I have infinite credit. It's hard to remember to clean up my stuff... I'm pretty sure I had some form of pornography on my phone, until I got rid of it so Dad wouldn't see. Except there's still this app on my phone called "Sex Master", which I just found... Huh, interesting. Also, The Kama Sutra Vatsyayana uses the word "congress" instead of sex. That's a book in my book-reading app. When people say congress I tend to think of a bunch of American politicians with white hair... If the words congress and sex were interchangeable...

Well, it'd be a bit crowded

...I'll just leave you with that nice bit of imagery...

Unproductive Day

The name sounds like that of a public holiday. In fact, I think they SHOULD have a public holiday, in my honor. That'd be great. Every time my birthday rolls around it can just be "Unproductive Day", where nobody goes to work. Then our economy will fall to shit-bits and all hell would break lose because no one's doing anything. However, we'd have a holiday!

I wish all my work would just mysteriously disappear- I really can't be bothered. I feel like I need a holiday already... a massive, massive break from everything. Not that it's work that's really bringing me down, I suppose, but I do feel like there's this emptiness in my life- a void wanting to be filled (yeah, this is starting to sound more like my usual self).

Now someone's going to bitch to me about how hard everyone else's life is and how I should STFU. Oh well. I wish it was summer- I could use some hot weather. I like wearing shorts and walking in the cool breeze of the sunset- it's oh-so-romantic. Winter is just...dreary...

...and mostly unproductive.

Antagonizing the World

[Antagonize]
verb (used with object)

to make hostile or unfriendly; make an enemy or antagonist of

---------------------------------------------

See, as it turns out, I'm not the only one with a billion problems. There exists so many dissatisfied people, who seem far more distressed than I am. *GASP FROM THE CROWD* What's this, I'm showing empathy? Woah step back.


I am well aware that I am a spoilt child. Look at me: smartphone, computer, internet, games, books- everything I've ever asked for, I have pretty much acquired. The name of this blog IS called Vane's First World Problems. Yes, I KNOW that I'm living a good life! That, however, does not justify why people seem to hate the world around them, though they may not be as lucky as I am. 


Living where I live, I've only come in contact with people of similar socioeconomic backgrounds. Whatever you do, at least you don't have to worry about stepping on a minefield or worry about your next meal. There's always a reason to be happy- though I suppose you can argue that there are plenty of people out there who are entitled to be just as happy as you are. Is there anything wrong with that though?

Everyone gets frustrated from time to time: it is when this period of frustration extends beyond the patience of your friends that it becomes a problem. "A real friend will stay forever"--- that is perhaps true. Though if you considered them your friend, perhaps you wouldn't want to stretch them to their absolute limits and test whether your hypothesis holds.


There are an infinite number of things which are wrong in this world. We can only correct so many things at once: and then some other problem will find its way in again. Maybe the world weighs you down, and you feel trapped and alone: however, the world is not such a sinister place. Though I am not willing to vouch for an innate goodness in mankind, I am willing to say that there is some redeeming quality in every human. Human nature may be filthy and disgusting- but within that corruption there is something worthwhile. 


This sounds far too optimistic for someone like me: I'm used to my incessant complaints and my miserable temperament. I guess what I'm saying is- there's no need to hate on this world, and not everybody holds malicious intents. The Earth will keep on spinning just the same, without or without anyone in particular. In the end no one is special enough to be the enemy of the world- so there is no need to antagonize this world.


Smile- be happy. Happiness comes in many forms.             

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Work vs Leisure trade-off

I'm bored. Again. There are so many things around to alleviate my boredom, but anything other than work makes me feel guilty at this stage. Work, however, is as boring as ever. Statistics is perhaps one of the biggest turn-offs of actuarial studies. Looks like my choice of uni courses is diminishing. I can almost see my future...
"Woah, you have a double degree in English and philosophy? That's so cool, man! Oh and I'll have coke and a large fries with my quarter pounder, thanks. "

Everybody's dream job, obv.

Following my parents' line of logic: if I study at home I'll do better in my exams, then my grades will go up, then I'll get a higher university entrance score, and get into a "good course" (whatever the fuck that means) in uni. Once I have my degree I'll be able to find a good job (again, undefined) and make lots of money, which obviously equates to success and happiness. Following the rule of transitivity, if I study now I'll be successful and happy. Being able to find the area under a curve somehow fits into the grand scheme of things, and is crucial to me living a fulfilling life.

Why is this world so twisted?

Me in the very near future.

Pathways

Good news: I sort-of get what calculus is about. Bad news: Dad's friend turns out to be another ignorant loser. He was asking about how I was doing at school, then offered some woooonderful advice about what I should do in the future.

-------------------------

Dad's friend: "I wanted my daughter to do med, but she was really against it. I guess that's the thing with kids these days, you can't REALLY force them to do what they don't wanna do."

*Dad looks at me with shifty eyes*

Dad's friend: "My daughter originally wanted to study psychology---"

At this point, Dad looks at me and is like, OMG THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT TO DO

Dad's friend: "But I told her that if she spent too much time around crazy people, she'd go crazy herself"

So I burst into a rant about how there are many aspects to behaviour, and it's not like every psychologist has to treat "crazy" people. They're not crazy, they're just mentally ill, and they wouldn't be that much of a pain if we had doctors with enough balls to treat them.

Dad's friend: "See, you're doing what's best for society, but you gotta think of yourself."

Then he prattles on about how his daughter also wanted to be a therapist or whatever, and how proud he is that he guided her and dissuaded her from those pathways. Wanna guess what his daughter does for a living?

...She's a lawyer.

Not sure whether she shouts "OBJECTION!" though

By the end of that conversation Dad comes up to me and has the "you decide your own future, make your own decisions" talk. Realistically, what he's saying is: doctor or lawyer, take your pick. FFS.

What's so good about being a doctor anyway? The money? There are many others who earn more- I'm quite sure that the richest doctor is also an entrepreneur. You don't get a lot of money from treating sick people- unless you can somehow guarantee that your patients are filthy rich.

So we're in it for the reputation then. If you're a doctor, people look up for you. Apart from that 5 seconds worth of admiration in your first introduction, I don't see where it'd get you. Yes it feels good to be respected by everyone else- then what? Once people get over the fact that you're a doctor- that's it.

Hmm, what's left? The satisfaction of saving lives? Well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that being a doctor is not like being on House. There will not always be some sort of strange, life-threatening illness that no one but you can treat. Chances are, if it's rare enough, you'll have no idea what to do. Also, remember that these cases are rare. I swear GPs spend most of their time swiping peoples' genitals for herpes or prescribing placebos for a cold.

I can guess what you guys think of me, and this may be surprising to you, but...

I don't actually enjoy the idea of swiping the genitals of people who were too retarded to use a condom.

See, this little packet here-

It can save you from a world of pain

And it can save the miserable doctors from having to look at your herpes-infested penis.

The Repercussions of Camp

Now that I've been on the best camp of my life, I'm stuck with a fuckload of maths. Oh the irony, going on a maths camp so that I miss out on maths classes- and now I'm behind on maths. Actually, I wouldn't be behind, if a certain someone *glare*didn't urge the teacher on in class. Dude, jealousy has its limits. Making me catch up on maths for an entire weekend is so not cool. I can't believe the teacher was ridiculous enough to push on with content AHEAD OF SCHEDULE, WHILE 1/3 OF THE CLASS WAS AWAY. I'm so pissed I could strangle a cat right now.

No, that was an exaggeration, stupid. I'm not soulless enough to strangle a cat.

So now I'm staring at my textbook, which my oh-so-wonderful-and-totally-not-clueless (this is sarcasm) teacher suggested I read. Yes, I understand that there are examples in the book, and I can, in fact, read. Whether I not I comprehend this witchcraft written here is another thing. WTF is a delta x.

Needs more unicorns and shit.

One moment I'm reading about how these rectangles are relevant to finding the area under a curve- and I do not understand why the area of a rectangle needs to be more complicated than length times width- then the next moment I arrive at this sentence saying "This is a very important result and is called the Fundamental Theorem of the Calculus" Wait, what? After re-reading the book another 3 times, I'm quite certain that I have no idea what "The Fundamental Theorem of the Calculus" means. Sure, I can find the antiderivative and stuff- then substitute the values for a and b in- but missing a whole chunk of theory makes me uncomfortable.

I don't know how long I'm going to have to spend with this textbook tonight- and considering how I'm blogging right now and wasting time on the internet as opposed to reading- it's going to be a long night indeed. FML.

Dad and his inconvenient friends

As soon as I hit "Publish" on my other post, I realise something I've forgotten to mention. I guess I'll post double today, making up for my missed post yesterday due to lack of internet.

So today someone moved in the house. Like, moved in with a bed and a fuckload of luggage. We had one spare room in the house before and that was already rented out, so this new guy who came in is sleeping in Dad's study (which we had to clear out today). See, this new guy is one of Dad's friends, and apparently he lost his job and has now relocated to Canberra, where he has a job but no accommodation. His daughter is here. My initial reaction was, "Why can't he just go live with his daughter?" You know, he's only met us TWICE. The first time he was introduced to Dad through a mutual friend, at a dinner party. The second time he came over with the same mutual friend to admire our house.

Anyway, I have no idea why Dad's relationship with him is close enough to warrant him moving in. Apparently he can't go to his daughter because she's living with her boyfriend. For fuck's sake. What if I want to watch porn in the middle of the night and he happens to be awake? It's the same problem, isn't it? Except now I have to show some decency and refrain. ERGH.

When I suffer withdrawal symptoms I curl into a ball of cuteness

Look, he's not a bad guy- but I guess I just don't like him in our house. Hm, no, that's not really the reason. I'm slightly hostile because I had to spend the morning cleaning the house, just so he could move in. I'm also annoyed at the fact that I'm going to have to feign politeness in front of him and keep myself from replying when my parents talk shit about me in front of him. Yeah, my parents have a tendency to talk about me in front of people they barely know- and they never talk about anything nice. It's usually regarding my behavioral issues, like how I'm too lazy and how I don't take my work seriously enough. THEN they talk about the really private stuff- which I will not disclose here, but of course it's private stuff about ME. Remember that this is to someone they don't even know well- not that I'd appreciate it if they told someone they do know well. I wish they'd just shut the fuck up.

Then there's also the problem of him being Dad's friend. Not that Mum's friends are any better- her best friend is a total bitch. But Dad's friends are a whole different thing altogether. They're not openly bitchy (like Mum's), but there's always this...absent-mindedness about them, and they tick me off in a non-confronting manner. One of Dad's friends wouldn't shut up about how eating raw-everything-minus-meat is good for your health. Now I'm stuck with a salad everyday, where before Dad would say there was too much bacteria on raw foods and it'd make us ill. I fucking hate, despise, detest these salads. Oh, and he also happened to mention how lemon juice was good for your something-or-rather. Now Dad buys lemons from the market on a regular basis and is thinking about planting a lemon tree.

Then there's that time, when Mr. I-Love-Raw-Food stayed overnight, and he complained to Dad in the morning about how he couldn't sleep, because I TYPED TOO LOUDLY. I overheard that. I was so tempted to tell him to get the fuck out. TWO closed doors and one corridor between us, and what, my typing kept him awake? It's not like I smash my keyboard rhythmically into the table. ALTHOUGH I WILL, NEXT TIME HE COMES AROUND. Faggot.

Alright my semi-tantrum is over. New guy who's moved in isn't so bad. He's polite, and does not seem overly-retarded. Good enough for me. My expectations of Dad's friends are looow. I suspect I'll have a nickname for him before the week's out.

The Classic First World Problem

The worst of them all: not having internet. On a Friday night, too. Oh it was fucking hideous. I got these sudden cravings to talk to people, and realised I was crippled without my technology. Why didn't I call? Because Dad took my phone with him to Sydney.

It was a horrible day (at least that was yesterday). 

So, one Friday night, without internet. What did I do? If your guess was maths, then you are so wrong. You'd think that after I've acquired so much time I'd cherish it and use it wisely- but no, not I. I decided to spend the evening reading Fifty Shades of Grey, because I couldn't resist buying all 3 volumes in the series on Friday. The book's quite intriguing, actually. I enjoy it immensely. I guess all I needed was a break from all my literature- something shallow, badly written and mind-numbing. That's essentially Fifty Shades of Grey. I got my kicks from it though. It reminds me of Twilight- but I enjoy this far more- this one's about sex. BDSM-style sex. It's a strange feeling, purchasing what is technically porn from a proper store without any repercussions. My parents think I'm being studious, since I've been reading all day. Heh.

Despite the inconvenience of not having the internet- I guess it's not the end of the world. As it turns out, I have enough hobbies to keep myself entertained- I read, I draw, I write and I play music. I'm sorry I couldn't update my blog though- to all of my easily-entertained readers out there. I appreciate your enthusiasm.

I do feel like it's a bit of a waste, how I only use my high-speed internet for Skype, Facebook, MSN and blogging. I wish I had enough time to play games- but if I have enough time to read a novel about BDSM, surely I can spare a couple of hours for gaming...

I feel my self-control deteriorating with every passing moment.

So Tired

I don't know why I didn't sleep properly last night. Now I'm just excessively tired, and I'm behind on a fuckload of classes. How inconvenient. I have to catch a bus tomorrow morning, too, because Dad's going away. Oh Dad...and his classic w-t-f quotes.

"All white people are racist."

Wait wait, there's more.

''It's so hard being a psychiatrist, you're working with all these crazy people who are going to stab you"

Which is totally untrue, because not all crazy people have violent tendencies, and the mentally-ill are not "crazy". Even if they were, that's why they NEED a psychiatrist in the first place.

Then Dad has his Dad-moments, where he feels the need to exert his authority. I was driving with him, and every single small turn, he shouted "STOP ACCELERATING". Except I wasn't accelerating. My foot wasn't even pressing down. So I say to Dad, "I think you mean brake".

"DON'T TALK BACK TO ME BLAH BLAH BLAH I RAISED YOU AND PAID FOR YOUR EDUCATION AND THIS IS WHAT YOU REPAY ME WITH I CAN'T EVEN SAY ONE LITTLE THING ABOUT MY OWN CHILD WHY DO YOU HAVE NO RESPECT BLAH BLAH BLAH."

Man, I totally didn't see that one coming. Oh well.

After my glorious return...

Yeah, double post for tonight, because I promised SOMEONE that I would make up for the post I missed whilst on camp. Well I've already talked about camp, what else is there? I could do another one of my philosophy rants about how shit this world is, or I could go on for another few hundred words about nothing at all. I wonder what my total word count for this blog is... I swear if I spent as much time doing maths as I do blogging, I'd be a maths legend by now.

See, now I'm just increasing the word count without saying anything substantial at all... I don't even know why you're still reading this. Unless you find this sort of stuff amusing- but I guess you'd have to be easily amused, if you enjoy reading the stuff I post about my troubled life.

Here's a photo from camp reflecting my moodiness...

Oh yeah, I lost a card on camp. It was a 10- rather inconvenient. I hate losing cards, because now I have to go buy a new deck, even though I'm only missing that 10. Ergh. The pain. I want fancy-plastic ones which don't break, too. Maybe I should just go by the casino after my birthday...

But of course there are better things to do once my birthday comes around. I mean, I could legally purchase porn, for God's sake. I'll have no need for anything once I get my stash. Oh great, now I'm talking about porn again. I might as well blog about porn itself sometime... and watch as my view-count soar. Not that I'm going to post anything explicit...

Okay, I'm going to shut up now. Maybe I'll come back with something more creative tomorrow.

The Return of the King

Well, I could be self-titled king. Anyway, I'm back! From camp, as I have previously mentioned. It was almost as bad as I expected, and at the same time it was far better than I expected! Yeah yeah the accommodation wasn't a fancy 5-star hotel, but camping near bogan-town wasn't as bad as I thought. It seems the only inhabitants were kangaroos, and they were pretty cute. Eh, what else can I say... BEST CAMP OF MY LIFE.

We sung on the bus, and we DID go to a cave. It was actually a lot more exciting than it sounds. Nature's not so bad, sometimes (with promise of return to a steel-framed city).

Was a rather pretty cave- no Zubats.

Hm, not much to say about the ACTUAL camp, because you know, I totally respect peoples' privacy and stuff. *snrk* I was loud and obnoxious as usual, but I'm pretty sure people loved it. I was up at like 2am, showering, and then I woke up at 6am because my friend was snoring. Won-der-ful. The morning air was nice though, and if you shouted out your voice echoed.

Okay, I better stop myself before I give everything away. I'll leave it up to you guys to guess what I shouted when I realised my voice echoed.

Packing List

For disorganized people like myself, a list is the way to go. I guess it's an interesting experiment, to see how you sort your priorities. Here, try it: if you were fleeing the country overnight, what would you bring with you? It's not about what you write down, but rather, the order in which you write it down.

Anyway, I'm not fleeing the country, but I need to pack. After I made myself a packing list, I went through it- and at the very top of my list is "phone charger". My rationale for it is that a phone charger is something I'm likely to forget, that's why I wrote it down first... but then "clothes" came second, and I don't think I was in any danger of forgetting to bring clothes. This just goes to show how screwed up my priorities are.

I guess I've noticed these illogical patterns of behavior within myself... I just do what I feel like at the time- it's usually the option which gives me instant gratification. Maybe I'm not a long-term thinker... or maybe I'm just desperate for some happiness... meh.

Now I sound like I'm going to fall into a depressed mood. Not good. MUST THINK HAPPY THOUGHTS.

So uh... CAMP TOMORROW! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooo.....oooooooo...ooo....o..... Whoo.
This isn't working. Where has my enthusiasm gone? GAH.

Okay, I'm going to get back to packing. I'm bringing my shark. Vincent. I'm bringing Vincent along. Going on camp with my best friends and my faaaaaaaaavourite teacher (so dude, if you ever read anything funny I say about you on here- by some miracle- know that I love you). Can life get any better???!!!

...Well actually, yes it can. It'd be great if we didn't have to camp out near bogan-town.

Oooooh, flowers.

Over-anticipation

It's that feeling, when you look forward to something so much, that you begin to worry about it. I'm supposed to be going on camp this Tuesday- and I feel like it's going to be the best camp of my life. Then I start thinking about the details...

1. We're going to a cave near bogan-town. I'm not exactly a nature-lover. In fact, I hate nature.
2. We're travelling by the school bus. I assume it's because we can't afford hired coaches, or because no one wants to go near bogan-town.
3. This camp is a maths camp.
4. I expect bad food and bad accommodation.
5. It's going to be so cold.
6. I feel like I'm starting to catch a cold
7. I think it's going to rain.

Not even romantic "kiss me" rain... Just... RAIN.

Why am I even going?

...BUT IT'S 2 DAYS OFF SCHOOL! Yeah yeah, I have work to catch up on... BUT 2 DAYS OFF! It's like I have a 3 day week! Escape from parents! No worries for 2 days! ...And... well, no reception and internet for 2 days. Typical of being in the middle-of-nowhere.

IT'S GOING TO BE WORTH IT. I'm so excited. And incoherent. And excited. OH-MEE-GAWD-CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMP. *school girl squeal*

Yeah, I'm going to stop now.

The Handmaid's Tale

It's the title of the book I have to read for my English class, written by Margaret Atwood. It's a good book, but I hate it. Set in the U.S., it's a novel about how woman are oppressed in a dystopian world. The main character is separated from her husband and daughter; she is made into a child-producing machine, because she is in the minority of women who are still fertile. It's horrifying, actually, that 1/2 of the population has been reduced to a walking uterus. Science has been abolished, and people have reverted to devoting themselves to religion. This novel focuses on the whole "all women are sinners because Eve was tempted" thing.

One interesting thing I noted about the novel, however, is that though it is the men who confine the women, it is the women themselves who are prison wardens. They spy on each other and report on each other, and in a way it is them who trap themselves. Isn't that the way way things are in life, though? Perhaps the boundaries we have are all self-imposed, and if consent could be reached, we'd have progress.

I still haven't finished the book- it's been a horribly unproductive day. I know I should finish reading it, but reading it makes me feel sick. I don't know why, but this novel makes me feel more uncomfortable compared to the other ones I've read. Maybe I just don't take dystopian novels too well. After all... it all sounds so real and probable. I feel as if we could achieve the world in The Handmaid's Tale by tomorrow. None of the other texts have been this bad- because I had been withdrawn. I could never fully understand what it would be like to live in Latin America (The House of the Spirits and Chronicle of a Death Foretold), Africa (Purple Hibiscus) or India (The God of Small Things). The novels I had previously read were all pretty bad- but none had struck me so hard. I had sort-of understood feminism through Virginia Woolf, but even then it seemed distant- something that did not concern me.

From a female perspective, living in the world of The Handmaid's Tale would be hell, but I don't think it is any better for a man. You could not escape the indoctrination, if you wanted to survive. How hard it would be, to hold on to your sanity, pretend that you believe in something until you are not even sure whether you actually do believe in it. Everyone else around you is the same. You cannot tell whether they are just pretending, or whether they have gone mad like the rest of the world. It'd be hard to get a woman, and getting a man was apparently illegal. The world must be suffocating- there is nothing to strive for...

Or would you feel pleasure instead? That sense of total dominance over someone. That 1/2 the population is automatically inferior to you because you are a man. Would that make you feel good? I do not know, as I have never felt that way. I imagine it could be pleasurable though, to seize power in your hands...

This novel is about feminism, but it is also about religion. I've noticed that many people around me can freely claim to be an atheist. That would not have been allowed, once upon a time. Reading this novel, I re-lived that time. I've never really appreciated atheism. Though not a believer myself, I've always sympathised with the religious. After all, everyone needs to hold on to something- and some people prefer to hold on to something which is great, powerful and loving- the perfect being- even if it was imaginary. Oh don't cry out "He's NOT imaginary!", that's not the point. The point is that I thought religion was a good thing, and I've never thought about the consequences of religion taken to the extremes. I see it now--- and it's enough to make me wish that religion did not exist. That's like saying I want atheism taken to the extreme though...

I wonder how that feels. Perhaps when I read a text about atheist extremes I will wish that we were all religious. Ultimately... I think I prefer the current state of co-existence. Yeah, it's like sitting on the fence. I take amusement though, in hearing moral debates about stem-cell research, abortion and homosexuality. There would be frustration, because people can appear so ignorant and stupid--- but isn't that sort of interesting?

I speak like a child watching a freak-show.