From the many SMS-es, it appears that many people are interested in how my job went.

After day one, I wish I could say something like, "Oh, I expected it to be really bad, but thank goodness it went better than I expected!"

No, it was more, "Oh, I expected it to be really bad, but it was worse than I expected."

Expected: General rowdiness, defiance, noise, disobedience, running around the classroom in a worse case scenario.

Did not expect: A freaky fascination on the students part with knives, gas stoves, and anything they could kill themselves or each other with.

You know what was worse? I could handle it if they were doing it out of defiance! The thing is, I think it had absolutely nothing to do with me--the common sense that usually tells you sharp, pointy, can poke very deep appears to be absent in those boys. Needless to say, the class was a lot of shouting, since the first moment they stepped into the kitchen, spotted the knives in a basket and immediately picked it up to swing it around, saying "YaaaHHH!"

Shouting worked, kind of. They'll put down the knives and about three seconds after you turn your back, they'll be waving it around again. One guy went out to another class with THREE knives between his fingers and got caned for it, because the other teacher spotted him and called OM. Unfortunately it was my responsibility, but I just didn't spot him because of the gas stoves. Crap, those boys are NUTS.

Worse still, I had to spend so long after cleaning up with a lazy kitchen servant taht only knew how to complain because half of them didn't wash up properly. As in, they did, kind of, only a lot of stuff was oily. And I thought it more hazardous to keep them back.

The good thing is, I can stop having practicals with this class. Apparently the office prefers it so. It is slightly unfair, I suppose, because really not EVERYONE is that bad...the girls were pretty nice, and one or two of the boys. But half the class is enough. Oh well, it's really too much effort though. ANd I'm a little paranoid they will kill each other and me accidentally.

Thankfully, after today I discovered that the teacher was right; that class was probably one of its kind. The sec three normal academic and sec two express class i thought today was quite nice and obliging, although they stoned quite a bit. At least that leaves me enough energy to blog today.

Oh gods, I'm starting to start relief teaching tomorrow! I just got the syllabus today...the head of department kept telling me that teaching would start on the 17th so I thought I would have the weekend to prepare. The three teachers for F & N all assured me that most classes were ok, although the normal technical class could be "a little problematic". And guess what? As Murphy Law dictates, the first class I'm taking would be a NT class, for TWO hours. Because I don't know how to teach the basics of a balanced diet for two whole hours, I'll be starting cooking immediately. Not to mention, I don't know the kitchen so I'll probably spend half the time hunting for cooking implements. Plus the fact that I haven't cooked shepherd's pie for a long time.

Sheesh, at least the NIE teachers get training! Now I'm thrown into this and I'm supposed to replace a teacher completely for the next four months. I should get more pay man, whatever the teacher is supposed to be earning. Oh crap, I'm starting to get this slight lost feeling of being in deep water and not quite knowing how deep the water is. Or whatever organisms there are swimming around me. Never mind, that's a bad analogy. There's a NIE trainee teacher coming in Febuary that may share my table. Imagine if she watches my class, hahaha. Exactly what do people do in NIE training anyway? They should just throw students in and let them die! Buahahahahaha.

I should have tried to get a better babysitting job. I'll play hangman with the class and let them ask stupid questions. Even teach if necessary. At least I won't burn down anything doing that.

Now I have one more thing to worry about, to add to my growing list: how to plan the lesson. Sigh. In any case, I think I'm fated to get this job, if you believe in all that. Not only was it delivered to my door, the teacher is coming back on 14th May! Which is just before I'm going to go to China, around mid May. I must look on the bright side. At least I'll get to eat the shepherd's pie I made.

I have henceforth resolved to go on a diet. The last straw came when my father said I was fat. That was after my sister said I gained weight, which was after Judith too said I was fat. My sister's later reassurances (don't worry, you didn't gain a lot of weight, just in the wrong places) wasn't reassuring in the least. It also did not help that I went out with Hannah and Grace yesterday, leaving me feeling rather short and inferior.

The worst thing is, when I mention that I want to go on diet to others, the answer I generally get is "ok", instead of nice comforting remarks like "what for?". I mean, I always say what people want to hear when they are fishing for compliments. Common practice and all that. So I suppose the fact that people just agree with me constitutes a Sign.

ARGH. I'm becoming a fusspot! This is terrible. I now find myself worrying about every single little detail about what I'm going to do for coaching, for cooking, for china trip, even for my social life. It's a side effect of too much planning. Because I am an extreme workaholic I discover that from next monday I will be working fourteen hour days from monday to saturday, some nights at times because of competition. So if I don't plan everything in advance, everything will clash, and I suppose that has spilled over. It has uncovered hidden depths to my fussiness. If I'm not careful I'll look 30 by the time I'm going to China. Fortunately I am still getting enough sleep, but unfortunately that will stop when my relief teaching starts.

Anyway, Grace found a job! Her great persistence in finding a food-related job has paid off and now she will find out how to make muffins in Grand Hyatt.

It has been four consecutive days since I have seen an ant in the kitchen. It appears that my efforts have paid off. I am never more sadistic when I am around ants and cockroaches. After I decided that I couldn't stand them any more, I bought ant poison and scattered them around the kitchen and the living room. In order that they will not be able to resist it, I also specially prepared a bowl of sugar solution which I carefully dripped on the poison. As for the cockroaches, I shoved some poison under the cupboard where they resided, so that they would be faced with it every day until they succumb to temptation.

When I saw some dying ants later I felt a twinge of guilt, but I suppose not a very big twinge.

For some reason, my wrists have been aching lately when I type for an extended period of time. Hence I have been subtly hinting to Hannah to buy me a Happy House keypad cushion. It goes something like this: Oi! Buy me a Happy House keypad cushion!

I hope she really will despite the lack of reason to, or I shall have to hint subtly again at someone else.

My parrot fish are either fighting or making out. They have been touching their mouths to each other in a very violent manner. I thought fishes don't kiss but they don't seem to be fighting. I have prescribed genders to each of the fish. The red one is decidedly male, because it is more passionate (in the kissing) and swims around doing nothing (in the fish equivalent of reading newspaper) while the pale one goes around arranging stones for home improvement. Needless to say, the pale fish is female.

After a grand total of about four days I have discarded my accounts book, which I decided was simply not my style. Financial planning can only go so far. It's bad enough worrying about money without worrying about daily expenses too. I will ease my conscience by worrying about money in monthly amounts.

It was yiling's birthday yesterday! I was half an hour in wishing her, because well, I didn't remember until then. I better keep better track.

My sister came home last night! We chatted till 2 a.m. this morning and I completely missed the alarm to wake me up for Judith's flight. So I didn't get to see her off. ARgh. I feel terrible. Plus I have a stupid bear sitting at home and lots of postcards. ARgh.

Anyway, my sister really is an anchor. I've been feeling rather listless and depressed lately but now I have my whole grand plan out for university. Yeah man. I feel full of life once again! I will have a career without scholarship. Lalala.

I was cooking dinner for my family today. When I was pouring the chicken from the pot onto the plate, a drumstick slid dramtically off to hit the floor. As I transferred the vegetables from the sieve to the pot, some of it scattered around the pot to be burned to a crisp by the gas fire. The eggs stuck solidly to the bottom of the pan because the non-stick pan suddenly stopped being non-stick.

At this rate, I'm going to be the most amusing home econs teacher ever.

I was reading back on the archives and I realised that I was so much funnier when I was moody and in school. It gives inspiration, somehow.

Anyway, since everyone seems to be saying it, Happy New YEar! And happy birthday to my sister. I made a startling realisation today: my spine is perfectly straight but because my shoulders are rounded, I look like I have a natural stoop. How sad.

I wish I could say I spent my new year making resolutions and preparing for a fresh start, but being the anal person I am, I was calculating my expenses. Money seems to be revolving around my head these days, for some reason.

My sister was complaining for so long that it was the warmest winter in Japan in 20 years and she wouldn't get to see snow this year. Two days ago, she got her wish, only unfortunately it caused the cancellation of her bus to Tokyo and resulted in her having to spend a hundred plus more dollars. Talk about Murphy's law.

I got a job!

It's relief teaching--I didn't mean to do it originally but it came to my doorstep on a silver platter. I got a call last week from Yuhua secondary and the HOD on the phone said carefully: erm, you wrote that you were interested in relief teaching and in doing math or science right?
Me: yes
HOD: erm, would you be capable of teaching home economics?
Me: i did food and nutrition in sec four
The guy sounded like he had hit jackpot. He went: OH! Good, good! I shall reserve the place for you.
Me: For what period?
HOD: As long as you like! You indicated you are free till May yes? Till June too, if possible!
Me: (Rather bewildered that I got a job just like that) Do I have to apply online?
HOD: No, just come down and do it!

Anyway, I went down on the 27th but there were a hell lot of problems with the MOE server, but I got it, anyway. Starting in Mid Jan. I shall face the perpetual fear of
having my creation crumble in front of the students. The best thing about this is, it's within walking distance from my house (although I have to walk 50 min, and lunch is kind of provided (I get to cook it myself). School also apparently ends at 1.20, so I can go coach Vj in the afternoon.


Basically, Yay! Yuhua better not play me out, though, because I got four more calls. (For some reason, the schools around my area seem to be short of teachers) But none of them are so convenient, I should think.

Went to pulau ubin on Tues and WEd. It was rather sad. AFter days and days of clear weather, the clouds consolidated on Monday night to provide near continuous rain for the on day and one night we were on the island. Well, as Judith said, at least it was representative of all the times she was there. I did have some fun; we got to cycle in the rain and climb some hill to see the quarry. Unfortunately I couldn't sleep at night because of water soaking up my jeans.

My goodness, time flies, it's been some time since I've updated.

Yesterday my sister and I were discussing sibling relationships and a number of childhood incidents we had. For the festive season, I shall make a list here:

My sister once drew stars with a crayon all over the walls of the flat and the rough surface under the chairs because she wanted to practice. The moral of this is, when you have a child, always provide him/her with paper.

I cut the hair of my sister's barbie doll once because I was wondering if it would grow back. The resulting fight between my sister and I broke the barbie doll head, which flew us both into a panic at the thought of facing my mother's wrath. With great sisterly cooperation, we carefully balanced the head of the doll on the neck and relegated it to the back of the cupboard, which was discovered a month later by my mum. Thankfully, she thought she accidentally broke it while clearing the cupboard.

I used to practice writing with my left hand because my mother told me that the left brain controlled the right hand; the right brain controlled the left hand, and I concluded that I would be smarter if I was ambidextrous.

I realised that sisterly quarrels are almost always about washing the dishes. In one memorable incident, I threw the cloth which I was wiping the table with towards the dishwashing area where my sister was, so that I did not have to make the six metre trip there. It sailed in an arc through the air and landed unerringly in the dustbin, causing it to topple into the sink and spilling its contents. I spent the next twenty minutes laughing and clearing up.

My sister and I were fighting in the room (with fists and all) when my mum knocked on the door and asked us what the sounds were. Because nothing is to be more feared than her fearsome nagging, we were the very picture of suspicious sisterly love.

This is a recent incident: I was going to my cousin's house for an overnight stay three days ago. Because her hands were full of my chemistry stuff which I lent to her, I was holding her little bag and the umbrella to shield us from the rain. Somewhere near the bus stop we spotted 66 and started running. The bus driver waited, I got on, the bus doors closed and the bus started moving; and by that time I was too embarrased to tell the driver to stop cos my cousin was still down there. I tried to call her for her to take the next bus, only to realise that her handphone and wallet were still with me. I think a lot of people thought me mad, because I was laughing all the way as I got off two stops later, crossed the road and took the bus back.

Sometimes I feel like I may be giving up a little too much when I decided to coach VJ.

Hell, first question: what part time jobs end at around one in the afternoon?
Maybe a job in a clinic. Trouble is, the pay is pathetic, because it doesn't need an O/A level cert. And the point is, will I even find a clinic job in the first place.

I got St Anthony's. But that's not ENOUGH. It was lower than I expected, and lower still if that means I can't take a regular job with it (not that I could, with VJ). 500 per month sucks. And it's probably more committment than I can afford.

Who says i don't care about money? I'm a materialistic person. I care a lot about money. I'm spending disgusting amounts for applications, and I want to learn driving. I want to go CHina in May; I've wanted that since secondary school. And I promised myself that end of As is the start of the time I should pay my own way, but hell. It's not happening. I wanted to learn Malay too, but I guess my budget definitely doesn't accomdate that now.

I'm not a naturally altruistic person. Oh, I may find it fulfilling, etc, etc, (I do think so), but money is still more important. Being fulfilled comes second in my agenda to being able to pay my own way, and saving up my own nest egg for university.

(Sorry Felda. I know I really shouldn't complain.)

But Damn it! I so wanted to stop depending on my parents. Take a study loan and supplement it.

Shit. I'll feel bad if I back out. I should give back, really, and many seniors did do so out of pure and noble intentions. I gained a lot, in any case. But the money problems loom larger over my head day by day.

Why is self-sufficiency so hard? It should be easy at my age. FUCK.

I got my first two pairs of dangling earrings today! One pink and one blue, both from my cousin, plus this rather...irregular bracelet. The earrings were lovely. Actually, I wanted to try them on, but Woon Teng's infection rather put me off. Exactly how long are we supposed to wait after the piercing, before taking out the studs?

I have confirmed the source of the cockroaches. My grandmother was trying to find her stuff this morning, and the dislodging of several bags under her bed disrupted the overall habitat there, causing a few cockroaches to run to my parents' room. Naturally, they were promptly poisoned by insecticide. My father threatened to set a fire to the stuff under the bed, but I suspect that he would never do it, not because the fire may spread and result in unnwarranted damage, but because WHERE WOULD THE COCKROACHES GO TO IF THEIR HOME IS BURNED UP?

The thought of the community down there sends shivers down my spine.

I've been so tired out lately that I just haven't had the energy to update. It's ironical how post exams seem even more stressful than during the exam period. BAh.

Now I have to settle university applications stuff and go out and blah blah blah. Oh crap.

I want to read a good fantasy book, but I need some recommendations. I have virtually finished Tamora Pierce, Mecerdes lackey, David Gemmell (the good books anyway) and even Raymond E feist, which I thought wasn't all that impressive at first. I don't like Terry Goodkind's books, and David Eddings has reached the point of repetition. I've tried the three Piers Anthony books which are good. I read a few books of Babara Hambly and decided she isn't that great an author. Ann MacCafferey is not bad, but has a tendency to repeat.

Well. Now here I am, stuck again.

Before I forget, let me first pay a tribute to this very cool poem I heard a few days ago, created by Justin of 03s62

The Exam Poem

One more week
That is all I need
Oh, Shit

So apt.

Anyway, I spotted a cockroach enroaching into the insect-free confines (well, except for mosquitoes) of my room yesterday night, which galvanised me into Immediate Action. It disappeared under the big pile of stuff under my sister's table, so I had to remove several files, the huge luggage bag containing (?), some stacks of papers and a few mysterious packages to target it properly. Unfortunately my first try didn't work, and it crawled speedily under the new pile that I had just created. But with my great persistence, I killed it in the end.

Ha. I hope this serves as a Warning to all other cockroaches. Perhaps in their next annual gathering from wherever they came from (I strongly suspect under the bed in my grandmother's room, which contains a number of things that we haven't dared to touch for fear of incurring her wrath and a lot of mould), they'll talk about finding new territory and expanding their horizons, then cower back and say, "hey, but you know so-and-so? He went off to explore and he Never Came Back."

RIght.

Haha, I think I really am crappy. But I simply cannot abide cockroaches. And ants, unlike Judith who shares her home with a large garden community of them. WEll, a few individual ants are ok, but I destroy any nest on sight (In my house, anyway). I remember once when our room was in a huge mess with both my sister and I refusing to pack, but we cleared out the entire room when we suspected a new ant nest inside. After discovering it behind the air-con cable, we placed ant poison near it, the kind that prevents queen ants from laying eggs, patiently waited for the ants to take some to their nest for half a day before swamping it with insecticide and water. The reasoning behind this is even if the queen ant somehow manages to escape, it won't be able to lay any more eggs and start a NEW NEST.

I saw a man with the largest ass I've ever seen in the MRT today. Worse still, his huge pair of black pants were pulled up high all the way on his waist, which only enhanced the size of his posterior. Due to the amount of shirt he had to tuck in, I could observe the many undulating layers of cloth covering the huge expanse of flesh. To top it all off, he was wearing an ill-fitting starched white shirt, which made him look rather like an overweight waiter with a fatter older brother who used to be in the same occupation. It occured to me later that had our genders been reversed, I would have been the very picture of teenage lust, because I was staring at his buttocks with a stupid grin on my face.

All right, I shall stop.

But just as a final word, this is the exact thing any self respecting guy should never wear.

Econs was god-awful terrible. I sneakily hope that many other people found it bad as well, so that I would at least stand a chance. Well, even if they screwed up they wouldn't screw up as badly as I did. I find myself praying that I would get at least four marks for my last one page essay, which is, I admit, a pathetic mark to pray for. And that my first essay was really as excellent as I thought it was. Sigh. I find it incredible that I wrote both my personal best and worst economics essay I ever have in my life in the very last paper of this nature I would ever take. What a time for dramatics. Unfortunately, my middle essay was not mediocore but somewhat (significantly) below average, because even in my brain-sieved (a new term I have invented, because I felt like my brain had been passed through a sieve after my first essay) state I could tell I was completely rambling by the second part.

These days I have realised a sudden urgency to claim back all my debts and rebalance my accounts, because of the large unbalance created by my rebonding and my cousin's birthday present. My brain has been churning out figures like this:

1) Rebonding: - $221 (which my mother has already repeatedly assured me that I overpaid for, and I keep telling her that she could nag all she wanted if she just paid half of it).
2) Cousin's birthday present plus earrings for myself: - $101
3) Father's and sister's birthdays, which are nearing: - $ ???
4) Currently in possession, planning to save: + $100
5) Liquid spending income available for the month (underestimate): + $ 22
6) Felda owes me: (+) $ 55
7) Kathryn owes me: (+) $ 90, for tuition
8) Lin Zi owes me: MY BIRTHDAY PRESENT
Overall balance of accounts: - $ 77 - $ ??? + BIRTHDAY PRESENT FROM LIN ZI (with the assumption that I can collect back my debts and Lin Zi would eventually, after the A levels and after inspiration has struck her, get me a birthday present, because I've just reminded her and laid on the guilt that she still owes me one. Hahaha.)

There. I tried to tell my mother that I had financial planning despite my stupid impulsive decision to rebond my hair in an expensive salon, but she wouldn't believe me. And that sometimes teenagers do make impulsive decisions and still stubbornly don't believe they were stupid, however much nagging they recieve (oh, cos apparently rebonding goes for less than a hundred in neighbourhood salons and I should have done a survey first despite the fact that I hadn't been intending to do it in the first place. Blah blah.).

But overall, I'm still in debt to myself. In the true Singaporean way, I will assure myself that this DEFICIT will be covered by past budget SURPLUSES, but also in the true Singaporean way, I'm rather unhappy about having a deficit in the first place.

I had a major quarrel with my father yesterday, which ended with him slamming the door to his room in a huff, me crying in front of the computer while chatting with my sis and us carefully not talking to each other today. It's been coming for some time, I guess. Not that I'm sorry for it. Because he's not talking to me he's not grumping at me either. I feel rather liberated, actually.

I'm sick of his lack of conviction. It's bad enough that he never believes me to be as good as my friends because my standard is just my standard. Smart means smart, dumb means dumb, yeah, my quality is just there. Just because he doesn't see me studying doesn't mean that I don't, and the fact that my lifestyle habits are different from his doesn't mean that they're wrong. There's nothing more adding to your stress level than having a family member that will say "I told you so" if you score badly. I've been hearing his complaints for the last few weeks when he thinks I'm sleeping in my room and I'm fucking sick of it. I'm lazy and stupid, not deaf.

Worse, he thinks I'm wrong and I think he's wrong. Well, yeah, I probably shouldn't have said some things I did yesterday but he started it. I tried to shut up at the beginning because I didn't want to lose my temper, but he's rather like my grandma--keeps harping until he gets a reaction, which was me losing my temper. Ha, yes, I have a temper. I bloody inherited it from him.

And my mum probably thinks I'm deluded from stress and has nagged at my sister who is no doubt one of the reasons for my distraction. Can't she understand that if she likes chatting to my sis I would too? But it's ok, I had a long talk with my sis this morning and it buoyed my mood considerably. At least when two of us were at home the nagging was split evenly. Now it's just me. I feel stifled and lonely; it doesn't help that the As has guaranteed a lack of companionship.

Crap crap crap. Lucky it's math tomorrow or I'll be feeling terribly stressed.

News for yesterday: I REBONDED MY HAIR.
News for today: I PIERCED MY EARS.

Amazingly enough, I accomplished both without any intention of doing so. After fighting a losing battle with tangles, I decided that I am just not suited for long hair and yesterday was the day where I would finally do something about it. So I walked into the salon some time after math, fully intending to convert back to my secondary school hairstyle.

And I told the hairdresser: cut short. He asked: how short. I said: something like yours, slope cut.

He took a double take and stared at me with a totally appalled expression on his face, like I had violated some sacred rule of hairdressers: hair of My Length should not be reduced to That all at one shot. Very distressed, he reminded me of the long tedious journey from short hair to long hair--the mushrooming in between, the heat, the etc etc etc. SInce my experience of this was particularly agonising, I wavered.

But I decided, must stand firm. So I told him that it was getting impossible to manage. Rebonding would make my hair limp blah blah, and I simply do not have the time for it. The hairdresser then assured me that he would have two people working on my hair simultaneously to cut the time short, and all could be settled before the closing time.

What could I do in the face of such enthusiasm? I made one of my rare impulsive decisions (and had no time to rethink because the chemicals were produced with unbelievable speed). The whole process was quite amusing, really--I was very interested in all the chemical processes (Ms Tan in sec school: they destroy the hydrogen bonds in your hair...) but wisely decided not to ask. The hairdresser keep muttering over my hair; he didn't quite say that it was very thick and very tangled (for those who don't know, rebonding involves this ironing process) but repeatedly assured me that I had "a lot" of hair and that my hair quality was "very rare".

In the end it still took three hours, even with two hairdressers, because my hair was (surprisingly) resistant to chemical attack, and took a lot of time to iron out. Now I'm a total convert man. I hope it lasts. I don't particularly care if it looks better or worse. It's a certain thrill to be able to comb right to the ends of my hair and not wake up with hair all over the pillow because they strangled each other to death in my sleep. I must admit I'm quite relieved not to cut it too--I need to soften my image. I already have a domineering and bossy chracter; sHort hair would complete the image of a dragon lady. A girl has to consider her future prospects. BWahahahahaha.

I shall talk about my ear piercing now. I went to a jewellry shop to buy my cousin's birthday present today, and I was short of nine dollars to reach a hundred, after which I would get a membership that gives me twenty percent discount on all future purchases. The salesgirl was trying to convince me to get a pair of earrings, then took one look at my ears and exclaimed loudly: YOU HAVEN'T PIERCED YOUR EARS? (Fingering my ears somewhat protectively) I said: er, no. BUT YOU'RE EIGHTEEN! THen I was told that it was very fast, I could just do it there, free if I bought a pair of earrings (which would conveniently mark up the price to a hundred).

It went downhill from there. So, after years of not bowing to peer pressure, I succumbed to the relentless persuasion of a very charming and very persistent salesgirl. It really didn't help that she was such a friendly soul, in an unagressive way. I was utterly convinced that she had my best interests at heart.

Some people have optimistically described ear piercing to be like "getting an ant bite". After firsthand experience today, I can only conclude that it must have been a really huge ant. It feels like really what it was: having two holes bored into your flesh.

I had this amazingly vivid dream last night. In the dream, I woke up to a brightening sky and discovered that it was already seven plus in the morning. My mother didn't wake me up because she misunderstood me when I said that my exam was at eight--she thought I meant I was going to leave at eight. I even remember wearing my uniform and telling myself not to panic because there was still time, and was hailing a cab when I woke up (again) to the dark, at four in the morning, feeling slightly disorientated. I didn't get to sleep again, unfortunately.

I recall that in secondary school (for some reason it didn't persist in JC) I used to have very detailed dreams about getting up, wearing my uniform (down to every small action like buttoning up), going to toilet etc etc, only to wake up and discover, to my disappointment, that I had to do it all over again. This is what extreme tiredness and examination stress does to you.

I realise that I feel quite chunky next to extremely skinny and fragile looking people like Yiling, or small people like Amanda. SOmehow my voice seems louder than usual, and my every action amplified by the sheer presence of another dimunitive individual. I don't feel fat, just...big.

Oh well. Anyway, it's not like it matters much, since I'm naturally obtuse by nature.

After watching a documentary on Parkinson's and Alzhiemer's disease, it occurred to me that my greatest fear lies in losing my mind. The people who live on and make the best of their lives truly have courage.