Happened to see Quinten and his girlfriend exchange sandwiches they'd made each other, which was very sweet to observe. I came up with a short list of possible benefits and problems associated with studying in the same school as your boyfriend/girlfriend. Getting my education from an all girls' school for most of my life and not being a lesbian, is a circumstance that never presented me with the opportunity to shit where I ate. And when there were boys, like now in junior college, they'd look at my chest and think I was one of them.
The only other coed institute I've studied in is kindergarten, where I got married to my classmate Alex within the first year. (I guess we all know how that turned out.. But he really was so good at phonics.) We never saw each other again after graduation, which made it a sad goodbye that wasn't actually said.
Anyway..
Stood awkwardly at attention as the flags were raised into a cloudless sky, and thought about the probability of either Quinten or his girlfriend making their sandwiches with peanut butter. (Low: If they were aware of the nutritional value of peanut butter and if it was true love.) Nobody actually sings the national anthem or school song, but when someone does, it's usually sung really loudly by this one particular boy- in the wrong key with the words mispronounced- which I think is supposed to make people laugh. And it does, or at least it did, the first couple of times, because after that it just became annoying.
Despite being guilty as charged, I've never really understood the rationale behind patriotism being a social taboo, especially among people in Generation Y. Even though we've been lucky enough to have never known poverty or war personally, sometimes I think it's a waste that the advantage hasn't made us golden.
As a colonel in the air force back in his heyday, my father seldom allowed me to forget the efforts of our government to raise life expectancy and literacy, while simultaneously curbing inflation and unrest.
In spite of always being given the best seats (after the president and prime minister) at the National Day Parade, the funpack lost its incentive effect over us as we grew older, and those (often my mom and I) who lacked the mental capacity to think up excuses quickly were bestowed the honour of accompanying my father (often against our will).
While an underground economy emerged for these highly sought- after tickets, they were handled like hot potatoes by my family. Year after year, we'd try to evade this obligation until finally, my mother's leg got so bad, Karen was worn out from fussing over her children, Jarrold was too busy appeasing his girlfriend, Stuart couldn't feign more interest even if he tried, and I thought I was too cool to be seen dressed in red and white on the 9th of August with "Made in Singapore" tattooed across my forehead- my father went alone. (A couple of people managed to spot him during the live telecast of the parade.)
Anyway..
Got through another tutorial in school without actually doing the tutorial. Today would've marked an astounding 98 streak combo if only I hadn't been exiled to the back of the classroom by my Geography tutor earlier in the week, for not completing the assignment on flood management.
My flirtations with despair and refined sugar seem to have intensified in the last few days. I also think I'm losing too much blood because my hand is feeling very limp at the wrist and as if it is going to fall off. I'm going to lie down now, and count down the 7 minutes that an average person takes to fall asleep.
Have a good weekend!
