Today was a baaaaad day.

Well. Firstly, because they switched Wednesday and Thursday's timetables in lieu (I can't believe I just used that word) of the National Day holiday tomorrow.

Well, not firstly. 'Because' better describes it.

Because they switched the timetables, there was no frisbee today.

Frisbee's one of the few things that's keeping me sane happy in the pile of educational crap I've steeped myself so deeply in school. That and all my friends. Seriously, I'd just die if I stoned in the canteen every break and didn't get my minimum requisite 4 and a half hours of crazy fun in the sun every week. Man, I can't believe I just used that expression.

Well, today's a day of firsts. 

Well, let me just say that the school timetabling system rocks. You know, I have no idea just how they manage to fit 10 hours of lessons in one day, with only one break in the middle, and still say with a straight face that they're planning schedules for optimum absorption of knowledge.

Seriously.

Then again, why so serious.

Sorry, overused expression.

Hmm, not much to say.

Oh, let me say proudly that today was the first day I sat down and did more than three math questions by myself. Seven or eight, in fact, over the course of an hour. Truly a first in all my years of mathematical experience. Well, not 'experience', otherwise I'd have done more questions. Oh, well.

And. Random observation. Frisbee people really love using the Yahoo group as IM. And flooding everyone's email inboxes. It's kinda amusing though to see the email notifications keep popping up every minute or so, then opening the messages to see one- or two-line replies. I've even seen 'lol'.

Yes, just 'lol'. Without even the companionship of punctuation.

I've just realised that the length of my posts is dictated by the size of the scroll bar next to the box where I type them out. Every time I blog, I keep typing and typing until the scroll bar shrinks to the size of the arrow buttons. Only then do I feel that the post is long enough and worthy of posting. 

Weird idiosyncrasies.

OH. Speaking of idiosyncrasies.

My class has just gotten a relief Literature teacher in replacement for Ms Veera and the woman who can speak ten thousand words of nothing and leech your brain of all it's constituent sanity Ms Lim. And the new teacher has a really high voiceuh and hasuh a habituh ofuh speakinguh likeuh thisuh. 

I'm not exaggerating. Just ask Zhang Kai. Unless you don't know who Zhang Kai is. In which case you should rejoice at your blessedness.

Just kidding. XD

Well, at least the new teacher teaches, for a change.

Ooh. I remembered I have a pile of music CDs, DVD movies, books and snacks which I've bought over the course of the year or just recently, yet have not had the time/chance/motivation to peruse/partake of. 

Man, my vocabulary is splendiferosically amazoringcal.

Currently on the 'to use/consume/watch/listen to' list of ultimate slackerdom are Fall Out Boy's Infinity On High, Yellowcard's Paper Walls, Norma Jean's Redeemer, Underoath's Define The Great Line, the whole darned Lord of the Rings movie trilogy, 8 Mile, Hero, first meeting of hands by Paul Tan, broken by the rain by Felix Cheong, unmarked treasure & tilting our plates to catch the light by Cyril Wong, The Lies That Build A Marraige by Suchen Christine Lim, this year's CAP publication titled Healing Silence, the latest issues of Reader's Digest, National Geographic, Time and The Economist, one pack of Jack and Jill Barbecue potato chips, one pack of Roller Coaster snacks, one pack of Ruffles Barbecue potato chips, and a pack of Redvines which have been in my tin since the start of the year.

Well, I think that's about it. Not too much.

Now. Poems. First one's kinda immature, I think, but oh well.

I knew not of the joy of kindergarten;

nor chalk graffiti on my desk.

I knew not of tooth-marked

tumblers of Ribena, hanging

from cheap plastic straps

on the spoilt necks of children.

I knew not of classmates and recess

and thirty-cent nuggets, nor

did I know of assembly 

in the mornings, mouthing the words

to a song I do not understand, I knew

not of being scolded by teachers 

for untidy uniforms, I knew not 

of uniforms, I knew not of the hopes

and fears of other children-

only the man who ran up

to my tin school building,

then the most brilliant sun-

This second one was inspired from sheer frustration during Lit with the teacher's infuriating oratory tic. It's short, but words fail in that kind of absolute annoyance. Bah.

irritation

and like the last droplet

off a faucet squeezed shut;

a string

goes

snap