The glorious and triumphant return of now-19 year old Blogger, the revival of a once-grand and dare I say influential webspace that produced daily content, and the crippling anxiety of a young woman who no longer has any time or motivation to write, and feels like any ability she had acquired in the past through repetition and sheer will alone is now slowly slipping out of her grasp. Brief history of the Blog and Blogger can be found here.

Here be personal journal entries, observations, slices of life, questions and conclusions, as well as exploration of social and political topics seen through the lens of a Malaysian Muslim, feminist, lesbian, Marxist, and horse enthusiast.

Friday, December 30, 2011

The Four Day Siren

Another four days to go. And when I wake up tomorrow, it'll be another three days. The sentence, the mere thought, makes me sick to my stomach. Well, I already am sick to my stomach but it makes me sick in a... non-physical way. I've only written fifteen posts for December (better than October's by three - man, that was a scary month), sixteen if you count this one, and it really feels as if I've lost my blogging mojo. Okay, maybe not the entire mojo. I still enjoy the writing aspect of it. I just don't have the energy to blog everyday. Or the motivation or something. But maybe that's just a rough patch, something I'll work off when school starts up again. Fingers crossed.

And today is officially the second last day of the year. Okay, every year we get shocked that time 'flies by so fast' and we 'can't believe it' and I am sick of that shit. It happens every year. Every year, the same thing. People saying the same thing. And I am so sick of that. I am sick of a lot of things. Maybe the fact that I'm writing about being sick of a lot of things is really a manifestation of how I am actually very sick in real life and I'm just trying to subliminally draw your attention away from the important things I'm writing about (my life) to something far less important but equally as annoying for me (my ill health). Or maybe I'm just in a writing funk and I the word 'sick' just keeps repeating itself in my brain like a tick, like the word 'like'.

That's two full paragraphs of nonsense, courtesy of yours truly. Being sick is no huge fun or walk in the park or tea party in your backyard with seven-year-old Kurt Hummel and his impeccable hair. Well, that wasn't worth typing out. But after feeling slightly better, I thought I could treat myself, going out with Helena and the gang and that was a terrible idea from the beginning so I don't know why I thought it would end well by any definition. I forgot what night this was but I'd remember if I think hard enough, which I'm not in much of a mood to do. I'm in a mood to write, ish, but not really because no matter how much I write, it still won't change the fact that, hey, school in four Godawful days.

Since my parents were both away, I had lovely time figuring out how to go to school today for the Form 1 orientation thing that I volunteered to be apart of. I regret that, volunteering I mean, somewhat, yesterday and today, because I've been hacking out a lung over here and talking to bright, doe-eyed little youngsters (someone referred to them as 'children' today and God, my birthday's in about eleven days, I feel so gosh darn old) (not as old as my sister, though!) didn't seem like cough syrup or warm tea to me. It seemed like rubbing salt into an already swollen paper cut. But back to figuring out how I'm supposed to get to school: Hanna.

So I slept over at Hanna's and it wasn't a banging, bashing, all out, year-end sleepover (like I'm planning with mates tomorrow night). It's more like... sitting in Hanna's A/C-less room, each lost in the world of own own laptops, occasionally talking to each other once in a while. No biggy. Or biggie. I don't know. Probably the latter. Hanna's turning into a big, mad, raging Directioner machine and it's a hell of a lot annoying for sure, and she says she's sure I act like that when I'm geeking out as well but thing is, it's two very separate things, and I'm going to get lambasted (jeez, where the hell did I even learn that word?) for saying why, because it's both a sociopolitical statement and a rude one (but with me, those sort of go hand-in-hand, don't you think?). So I'm not touching on why my obsessions are different from hers. I'm just stating that last night, she was annoying and I wasn't. Except when I read that Jared Leto quote about Chris. I flipped my shit.

Some might call being open about reading not safe for work (sorry, I just, I hate acronyms and abbreviations) at other people's houses annoying as well, and if that's the case, then I'll let Hanna deal with that in her own sociopolitical and rude statements.

We finally kicked the bucket- wait, I think that means dying. We finally, um, hit the hay at four, maybe five, after I've exhausted my poor eyes reading fanfiction, and when I was tossing and turning and coughing, I think Hanna was still Directioning, or whatever it is she'd call it. We woke up later than I had set my alarm for (that useless alarm - I can sleep through it now), and Hanna called the sirens I use for my alarm annoying and then suddenly I was woken by One Direction singing a fucking good morning song (if you can call what they did singing) (I'm not saying they can't sing or can't sing well; just, in said song, there wasn't exactly a melody, okay?) and why, good lady, that is what I call a classic 'pot calling the kettle black' situation, if you don't mind my saying so.

Hanna is not a pretty soul in the morning. She gallumped (I don't even know) around the house looking for a purple ribbon while I trailed behind her, and she finally found, well, a ribbon, and I pointed out to her that it was magenta and she didn't take it kindly. So we were at school ages before we were actually supposed to be at school, nails long, phones in our bags, occasionally bumping into people, but those weren't occasions at all. The canteen's been revamped, the back work sheds and art shed are still under construction, and don't even get me started on the hall. So it was work, regular old work for us for a while, carrying and arranging chairs and smiling and answering befuddled parents' questions. And then we finally got down to business at about nine, perfectly early if we're following Malaysian time and I'm being honest, and the attendance-taking process for the Form 1s took a lot longer than it should.

I was in a hell of a preachy mood this morning. I mean, not saying I'm not preachy and opinionated all the damn time (because I am), it's just that it's been a while since I've actually heard offensive things being said aloud instead of, well, typed out on the Internet. And while I definitely am very carefree on the Internet and I sometimes let my friends say 'faggot' or 'retarded' or, well, other shit, because, really, Internet people are freaks, I do call people out on their shit in real time. Because it's easier to say than write. Although in this weather (my sick), I think that it's definitely better to write than say. I sound like cats fucking when I talk.

Hanna and Ashwini were judging Form 1s based on how bitchy they look and if it was the average 'man, they're wearing white Converse shoes' or 'they're wearing their button badges as an actual badge' (what bias, I know, because it was I who said both of those things), then I guess it's fine because teasing newcomers on being new is part of the trade and circle of life and all of that. But judging someone based on how they looked (Hanna was saying something about how bitchy one of them looked or something)? So I told them off and then Hanna deserted me.

Well, all right. Divya was next. She said some of the Form 1s looked retarded and I was very annoyed at that so I followed after her, asking her, "What if one of them really is retarded? Huh? Huh? What then?"

My partner for the day was Uma and I think we left the kids we were supposed to take care of (1D students) with not much to write home about because we had no effing clue what to say for the tour. You know Uma, you know me. We don't exactly make a circus. Regardless, they made some form of friend, I guess, and then after talking to them and answering questions and giving them a head's up for the PE classes with Miss Foo (among other disciplinary tips of the trade), we left them to their own devices. Hanna and Ashwini next door seemed to be having a lot of fun, so were the people downstairs, so there is that.

After, Hanna and I went to the book shop, and the Koperasi, and the canteen, and we saw Iylia, and then when we finally got to the hall, everyone had already stacked up the chairs. Job well done, we left. Somewhere during the tour Uma and I gave 1D, I found out my class for next year.

I don't even know what to say about that.

You win some, you lose some. Maybe that's what I should say.

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