i am slackerbitch, hear me roar.

report card

One six-pointer said to another six-pointer when they collected their A-Level result slips:

"Eh, I didn't get 4 As. You too right?"

"Yah, so?"

"Instead of value-add, we are the value defects!" he said then breaking into a guffaw.

He was streamed into the exclusive Gifted Education Programme back in Secondary School. She wondered if these alphabetical grades mattered in the greater scheme of things.

To her, golden girls and golden boys are just social constructs. Social constructs meant to stress out the rest of the population into elitism. And she bought into this social construct most of her life, she thought, staring at her classmates who would become doctors, lawyers...

"Doctor, lawyer, Indian Chief. Poor man, rich man, Begger man, thief" went a childhood rhyme for a game where the length of your forearm would magically determine what you will be when you grow up, as your playmate measures your arm so so carefully, criss-crossing her thumbs.

She stared at her result slip. Mediocrity is relative too. What would her 3 As be in the seas of 4 As?

Average.

Value defect. Yes. But so what.

She was never the golden girl and they are just too perfect too be human. To be flawed.

And most importantly, Real.

My dream gig (that i cannnot attend)

Ash plays 1977 the album.
Take me take me there.

This is going to be a helluva fun. ARGH, and i am missing it.

This gig is a dream come true. ohwell.

One sad short film of the drug genre

Monday brings me to this Jonas Akerlund 15-minute short film "Try" about two homeless junkies-in-love. Thanks to The Smashing Pumpkins video Try, try, try which is a terse version of the short.

Akerlund was the director of the controversial video for Prodigy's Smack my bitch up (just youtube it. It's really trippy)

It's sad, but at the end I couldn't help but shrug and say: "C'est la vie".
A cautionary tale about drug usage as usual.

Thank you

Thank you Lord for your Grace and everything in my life.

Scraps

Been doing some big time spring cleaning: got about 20 cds to sell to cash converters, threw out a whole lotta rubbish (school notes, photos, useless christmas and birthday gifts)

But I found scraps of paper on which i scribbled down my random thoughts, circa early 2004 ( post A-levels). pretty entertaining. Let me share two:

(i think i was scribbling this while doing mundane and mindless data entry at a well-known bank. Lesson for banks: don't hire post-A level kids. We are kind of careless when computing important client information. haha)

10 a.m. : Listened to Tori (Amos) on player

10.30 a.m: Thinking of buying SP's (smashing pumpkins) Siamese Dreams

11 a.m: Salivating at the thought of Siglap Food Centre's rojak. Reads two news articles

11.20 a.m.: Yawn

11.40 a.m.: Evesdrops on others talking about their children

12.00 p.m.: Loo time!

12.01 p.m. : Weekend creeps into my head

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(my draft for a collage made from magazine scraps. For my valentine at that time, using bits of lyrics from various songs by Ash. I cringe upon reading it now. haha, so childish for a love poem, not original somemore.)

Move closer, set my mind on fire,
something in your glances puts a spell on me.

As the world fades all around,
feel it taking over,
the warmth of skies at sunset.
I want to linger in this glow.

You're all that I can see. (I've got a good feeling)

You're a constant source,
you're a shining light.
Incandescent in the darkest night,
An epiphany you burn so bright.

You light up my life, dude.