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I really enjoy CLT and this sounds crazy but I'm kind of half-looking forward to doing the exam this Saturday. The downside is, I still don't really get the overarching theme and I don't see how everything links. To top everything off, whatever thoughts I had about the module are completely not related to law. I had to keep reminding myself that CLT, fun and un-legal as it is, is still ultimately a law module.
Oh, fuck that. Who cares. I believe staunchly in my talent for bullshitting and I believe, too, that this skill will get me through the exams. Bwahaha.
I am sick and tired of the exams. I can't even begin to describe how terribly irritating it is to stay home every single fucking day, trying to make yourself study, when it's really the last thing you want to do. Goddammit, just give me a damn assignment and grade me on that. What is wrong with everyone?
And the most hilarious part? I'm not even studying. And I don't ever lie about things like that.
Two nights ago I wrote two poems that I was reasonably satisfied with. When you stop trying to make yourself write well and just trust the process, the end result is pretty surprising. I still think I can't write, though. My subject matter is hackneyed bullshit, my style is malleable precisely because I don't have a style, and most of the time I start writing something without knowing what the hell it is I want to say, hence there is no intention or subtext or whatever. Talk about pointless.
But having a point is overrated, just like how rationality is overrated, how money is overrated. We should start looking into doing things for their own sake, not for a grander, grandiose "purpose" that probably doesn't even exist.
The driving lesson on Monday was awesome. My instructor told me about the ugly truths about the underbelly of society, people caught in the vicious cycle of poverty and underprivilege. I wonder why we bother with such useless euphemisms, because 'underprivilege' is such a lie. It implies a certain degree of being privileged, and 99% of the time it's simply not true. An entire family crammed into a one-room flat, paying $50 a month to the government who isn't doing jack on the welfare front to help these people. Children of parents without an education, without a proper, stable job, children who find themselves memorising the frown lines on their parents' faces, getting accustomed to the alcohol on their fathers' breaths. The adults are too busy dealing with their own problems, and so the children find it so easy to stay out all night, get fucked in all sorts of places, even if they're only 12 years old. And old habits die hard, and so they find themselves doing the same shit they've been doing ever since they were 12, nevermind that they're 29, 30 now. Hit the night club, hook up with some random guy, wake up the next morning realising she doesn't even know his name, and that he's just like all the others. Insignificant, convenient, there.
Well, it's sad, to be sure. It made me realise, for real, how truly lucky I've been thus far, despite all the stuff I tend to bitch about. It also made me realise that I'm really a lot more sheltered that I thought I was. I mean, that kind of figures, if the closest I've ever got to the "underprivileged" was Jurong Junior College. Seriously. I ain't seen nothin' at all.
Aside from the interesting chat with the instructor (I'm so pleased to know that I can talk and drive at the same time), the driving itself was awesome. I exceeded the speed limit on the PIE or somewhere, but just by a tad. Some black SUV (I fucking hate SUV's, and so I'm distraught that Veronica is driving a Saturn) wanted to overtake me which pissed me off so I gunned the accelerator and sped past said SUV. BWAHAHA. 'Twas fun.
Later on, some random red car cut in front of me from a minor road on the left and was so slow that I was genuinely under the impression that I would crash, and so I freaked out and stepped on the brake really hard. I almost stalled the engine, but not quite.
I told my instructor that I thought he had brilliant memory. The first time he taught me was quite a while ago, during like my third lesson or something, which was probably in like, early September or thereabout. I wasn't expecting him to remember me at all when I got him months later, but he remembered that I'm in law and all that jazz, even the fact that my family was getting a Toyota. So I made that comment about his brilliant memory, and guess what he said? "Oh, but that's because you're pretty."
Uh. Okay. And that explains everything.
I have no idea what fucking shit I did yesterday. I just know that I didn't study. And I don't know why I just spent 50 minutes writing this inconsequential entry when I really ought to be studying. Oh fuck me, I just want to go shopping right now. Dammit.
I think a person is a keeper when you basically tell him/her that in order to find your blog, all he/she has to do is to Google your real name and click on the sixth result, and despite wanting to read your blog, he/she doesn't Google, simply because you told him/her not to. If it were me, I'd probably Google anyway. I'm such a bad person.
My mom has a 3G Sony Ericsson. Oh my god. I officially have the oldest phone in the family.
Well, then again, my brother doesn't even have a phone. And I'm in deep love with the Sony Ericsson Z610i; I'm torn between the blue and the pink. I'm probably gonna get it when I finally get to change my phone in like, December or somewhere there. I've been using my trusty and SO durable SE T630 since November 2004, a few days into the A Levels, and as frustrated as I am with the stupid battery which dies way too quickly (like, after three days, OMG) and...well, that's about the only complaint I have, a large part of me doesn't want to part with this phone. I'm stupidly sentimental but there you go: I've developed a retarded attachment to my T630. Just imagine: I've been using this phone for OVER TWO YEARS. Its existence is as sure to me as my own freaking name, it's still working almost perfectly despite dropping it on numerous occasions and despite its age, and it's just damn nice lah. I'm not one who swaps phones as frequently as a modern-day Don Juan swaps girlfriends; in fact, I find it easier to stay committed to my T630 than it is to stay committed to a guy. So, yeah, when I go down to M1 to change my phone, I'm gonna be really, really sad.
And to think that I was disappointed when my mom came home with it and not a Panasonic. Shit, man, Panasonic sucks major balls. I only wanted it because Jay Chou advertised for it. What an abominably stupid reason! I love Sony Ericsson. I love my Sony Ericsson T630.
I do, however, have to bitch about the retarded marketing for the Z610i. Its tagline: Come and get me. An excerpt from the brochure (pamphlet?): Irresistible. That's what I am. The smooth curves. The sensuous feel. Turn me on and I'll reveal my deepest secrests. Go ahead, run your fingers over me. Succumb. I'm here.
No, seriously, I don't want soft porn for a phone. And um, I thought copy writers are supposed to have passed, like, grammar lessons. "The smooth curves." ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? That's a fucking fragment. MS Word would be all, "Fragment. Consider revising." Whoever came up with this lame-ass marketing campaign is really retarded. It's not even well-written, and the seductive woman idea is so trite and overused. It's so funny that they're more or less equating the phone to the prototype female sex symbol, because the pink one is going to appeal mostly to girls (like me).
So yeah. It's horrifying. But the phone is still sexy as hell and I've always wanted a flip phone so whatever. The screen is kinda small though, sad to say.
Right. I can't believe I'm talking about a mobile phone, like 3847283753429582564542857827452 other people out there. This is clear and unequivocal sign that I've ran out of things to say in this entry and that I should just post it.