not quite putting on my “game face”, but…

yes, its finally exam time. exams’re in a month, and there’s so much to do. big essay. and mgt test this thursday ugh.

sigh wont have much time for many other things. wont have tt much time even to gym leisurely, might just go to let off steam. wont have even time for cardio. sob sob.

last night was gonna work out at home but was too tired from sitting in front of mgt books all day. am even too tired/lazy right now to move finger to shift key for uppercase letters and punctuation.

woe is meee.

haha. whee accounting beckons!

Now, I’ve tried to resist doing this for a while, precisely since everyone has been making me do theirs. Yes, you know who you are. So, just for the heck of it, I caved. Especially since I had a class on personality types and traits at PSY100 last week.

What am I talking about? The Johari Window.

I found it really, really hard to pick these traits myself. I don’t know why; usually I have a lot of good things to say about myself.

Hmmm… wonder how other people see me. I know I look in the mirror everyday and see a monkey staring back. Ook-eek-eek.

So, for the heck of it… here goes.

I overslept this morning. This is not good because it never ever happens to me; I usually set my alarm super early, especially on Monday mornings since I have to book my physiotherapy sessions at the athletic centre by phone and if I don’t call early I get crappy timings.

The last time I overslept was hmm about a year back in camp when I didn’t set my alarm, and the “usual dudes” who set their alarms in the bunk didn’t or were clearing leave (in ORD mode), causing an entire bunk of sargeants to oversleep.

An angry Encik’s (the sargeant-major) voice and the sight of his bulgingly massive inked-out biceps are NOT things a poor NS boy would ever want to wake up to.

Not cool.

(…if you can see my Encik he’s in the picture in the last post, the hulking Indian dude with the Ronaldo hair!)

Anyway, in guilt of oversleeping, have had a productive morning, reading up and learning what I would’ve learnt in Indart’s lecture.

So there! Not that skipping class is good. It’s bad. Especially Indart’s class which is pretty educational I think. But have decided to skip remaining math lectures since math is a waste of time.

That turd of a prof takes half an hour to explain what anyone who went to high school / did A lvls can grasp in five minutes, which means I spent the entire class SMS-ing and doodling away. Or sleeping. Or studying for other classes’ homework. The only reason why anyone in his class is doing even decently well is because they are forced to work that much extra because of his ineptitude and indifference.

Bah.

So yes see no more getting mad at math prof ever again since am not going for any more math classes! Not that I’m doing badly in it. Amen.

In the last three or so days, my conversations with my old NS buddies have gone something like this…

ME: “Hey what up man?”
NS FRIEND #1: “oei faggot knn f*ck off! i got no time to tok 2 u now!”

and

ME: “Hmm I suppose you’re not talking to me too…?”
NS FRIEND #2: “Diam lah! F*ck you @#%@#%% no mood to tok now!”

or even better yet…

NS FRIEND #3: “hey joel you lucky ass!”
ME: “Huh? Lucky??”
NS FRIEND #3: “shaddup lah knn i dun haf time to tok 2 faggots like you bye!”

Ahem. So, dear BRC buddies out there, half a globe away. Some time back a certain self-proclamined genius amongst us expounded on the profound differences between being “Colleagues” and “Friends”.

O NS buddies of mine - we may not be “Colleagues” anymore, and thanks to my knee injury, we may not be colleagues again; we may never get the chance to stand shoulder to shoulder and take up arms against the war on terror like we did ever again.

But we are still… “Friends”, are we not?

Remember who dragged that big black wooden block across the swimming pool. Helped to drag the tire. And ran around the camp with it. Remember, guys.

I know you guys got delegated a helluva shitty job. If not for me being here in Canada I would be back there with ya’ll. But I’m not. Even then, I f e e l your pain.

Anyway, I hope ya’ll have fun, and I mean this in the least sarcastic way possible: Take It In The Right Spirit, guys.

okay, i woke up an hour before i usually do because i slept hella early since my vision was strangely drifting out of focus again.

while i was in the shower i rememberd having a basketball-dream, that i was in my peja stojakovic sacto kings jersey at a basketball court shooting jumpers and there were two kids feeding me the ball.

and i never missed a jumper, even when i was way out at the three point line and i knew i wasn’t strong enough in my current state to hit a shot like that, i just threw ‘em up and they went in.

perhaps these are good omens, heh heh. haven’t had such a pleasant dream in a while. the only dream that could POSSIBLY be better than this is to… dream i stole the ball from karl malone, dribbled the clock down at the top of the key, then give bryon russell a little nudge while pulling back on a half-crossover and then shooting The Shot to win the nba championship!!!

haha now im getting ahead of myself. gonna go shoot around tomorrow, i think. may not have my serangoon gardens kiddies to feed me the ball (what up, yo) but hopefully will have a christmas elf to do it haha.

Glasses notwithstanding, my eyes are getting blur a lot nowadays.

It happens over weekends after I monster-study or on weekdays when I do lots of math papers or eco problem sets, or even when I’m leisurely hopping from ledge to precarious ledge throwing flasks of holy water and flesh-rending boomerang crosses at an endless army of zombies.

I don’t even play that much computer games this term, I’m in school a lot more thanks to a different timetable which doesn’t let me come home till the sun sets practically 5 days a week. Last term spent a lot more time at home, in front of the computer or doing work at home.

I don’t know what’s wrong, too. According to a number of spectacle-wearing kids I need time to get used to specs and in this transition period my eyes will be blurry when I wear them. I’m practically typing now with my eyes shut, not that I’m err showing off, but because I can and because my bloody eyes are making me giddy and I can’t sleep too till I get some of these rampant thoughts out of my head.

My mind’s been a blank the last coupla days; I’m not entirely sure why, too. Perhaps because I’ve been not thinking about stuff, perhaps because when I do think about something, because of the work and the lazing around this weekend, I didn’t really put much thought to it. Perhaps because ever since I went to stay those coupla days on residence, after that heavy math test and all the past eight-odd years of practice papers I did building up to it, there’s this hmm vacuum of… of something I can’t really put a finger on now.

Maybe because this is the last testless week I’m gonna have before the next fortnight’s tests, and then the road to the finals begins proper. Not many weeks left; gotta buck up and make a final push.

I just wish my head didn’t spin like this, wish my eyes weren’t blur like this. It’s not the vision anymore, I think, since I’m wearing my corrective glasses. It’s probably lack of sleep or some other strange reason why I’m dizzy and everything is blurry (everyone’s so fake).

There’s just so much half-formed thoughts squirming around my head right now, I want to get them down but I’m too tired to cohesively think them through, and my eyes are killing me.

I don’t think I’ve put a post here with me hmm talking casually like this for a while, so there you ahve it. I’m going to sleep now, and I doubt I’ll go gymming tomorrow, given time constraints, extra tutorial and hmmm possible hair cut.

Am looking fobby which… isn’t good at all.

Dear Emo-Jojo,

Why hello, o gentle sibling of mine.

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Yes, it has - and I hope you haven’t forgotten about poor little old me.

It is I, Mister Joel, the darkly brooding, forever scowling, punch-the-walls-till-fists-are-bleedin furnace of angst who is the other half of your being. And as you know, I’ve taken a backseat of sorts over the past month or so, letting you hog the limelight all this time… what with you being genuinely happy for what seems like the first time in longer than we can remember.

It breaks my charred, sulphur-reeking heart to say this, but I knew I had to reel you in sooner or later, you soppy wussy pansy-man.

*slap*

Your good friend and probable future roomie f was right - you’ve gone all soft on us! Geez, what happened to your chutzpah, your pizzazz, your oomph, your mojo? Your sei?

*smack*

Tsk tsk. Yes, I know you’re in a really wonderful relationship with Dream Babe right now, yada yada, I know you’re really, honestly, sincerely happy, yada yada. At the same time, I have to warn you NOT to regress into the girly mopey ass-kissing faggsy man you were in secondary school.

It’s not like I’m not enjoying this little break I’m having. It’s good to see you happy for a change, good to not have to put my own little vitriolic stamp on everything that we do. Hell, I can even get used to this… taking a backseat thing.

But not if you don’t get your act together, you god-damned queer! Barely three months ago, we wrote this, don’t you remember? Read it - and reread it until you realize the folly of your ways; repent and see the light before it is too late, dumbass.

*UFC elbow to face*

This is your last warning, Emo-Jojo. Or big brother over here is taking over the wheel again, and it ain’t gonna be pretty if he does. Ya hear?

Unlovably yours,
Mister Joel

Well, if this place has been pretty quiet for the past week, it’s because I was going nuts studying for a math test, and that I actually found myself a benefactress, who very kindly provided me with a place on the floor to lay my groundsheet, err, sleeping bag for two nights, in spite of the weird serial-killer stares from her creepy orangesportsjacket-clad stalker neighbour, which meant me sleeping in the University College residence in school since Wednesday night.

I actually did get back home late last night, but have been immensely tired, ever since Wednesday when I sat in the Earth Sciences library for four hours straight without even getting off my seat going postal on seven years’ worth of past year papers’ hardest questions.

As an army boy I can sleep very, very soundly on any surface, as long as it is devoid of insects. Prone in a shellscrape (read: coffin-sized hole in ground) resting my head on my M16 with its magazine firmly stuck in the soft mushy mud. Wrapped in my hammock like a big green har-gaw suspended between two trees, hugging my rifle, every bit of exposed skin covered in camo scarf / hammock flap in a bundle of complete insect-proof zen-ness. Slumped over the guardroom table in restlessly light half-sleep. Sprawled out on my back at the carpark at the ferry terminal (which was one of the BEST SLEEPS EVER… remember guys?) too many hours before the first rays of sun would begin even light up the sky.

My indulgent reminiscing will stop, and my point is this: a sleeping bag on a concrete floor is HEAVEN to me. In fact I had a great, great sleep on Thursday night. Wednesday night’s sleep woulda been great too if not for being rudely awakened by LGBT (lesbians gays bi tranny) dumbschmucks in their “room” not far away…

Yes, there is a LGBT room in school, a little room which I have never been inside. In my imagination its probably like a Scout’s den, only a lot more gay. Literally.

Now, most guys *are* pretty homophobic. I have err a theory based on economic theory which I believe in which explains why being homophobic is horrifically detrimental to the male species, a theory which I will probably expound on a later date… but it should suffice to say that I am relatively cool with uh “different” people… as long as they don’t start poking their shovels in MY backyard.

(snicker away, mr chin)

But when these people, who have nothing better to do, crowd in their little LGBT room at eight in the morning and argue at the god-damned top of their voices in affected accents with mock seriousness, loud enough so that sleeping kids (like me) are woken up from their silly inane fruity argument… they are crossing a line.

Were I living on rez, and not a guest, I would’ve grabbed my keys, stormed over to their little LGBT room in my peejays and shortshorts, and gotten busy with some serious gaybashing.

Bah stupid pretentious bitchy girly-men!

The rest of my stay on campus was pretty cool, thanks to my vvv. nice hostess, the modern day domestic goddess (of mercy) herself. Spent Wednesday night hopping from room to room checking out haha friends’ rooms. Rested for much of Thursday from aftermath of going into overdrive for MAT133 test, then skipped waste-of-time math class on Friday to hit the gym and realize that am lighter than have ever been since post-surgery! Very, very cool.

Also checked out Elm Place apartment - in surprise visit to a certain Auntie haha - which actually is pretty good a place to rent, if I move out next year. Shall see aboot that and cross that bridge when I come to it…

Finally, had a lot of fun on Friday and was strangely enough very, very moved by something that… I saw.