Me: It's, like, thousands of needles going through your skin, and you can feel every millimeter as it travels through you, piercing you and killing you slowly, psychologically first, draining you of every possible fragment of a will to live, even before you are dead--
Neptune: Don't be so dramatic!
Me: I'm not being dramatic! I'm being... truthful.
On a happier note, here's a poem I wrote during the five minutes I tried to nap but couldn't because I was busy worrying about the !*@&# constitutional law essay. It's entitled Teddies Are Fat, and it goes like this:
Every 'teddy bear' is fat; Or you cannot call it that! Why is Teddy so damned fat? 'Cause he's Teddy and that's that! Therefore Teddy must be fat, Unless he's become a mat; Or even perhaps a hat, Though that hat might still be fat.
I guess I may have to rethink a career in authoring children's literature... But first, back to constitutional law.
[Update] And here's Neptune's rebuttal, because she endeavors to champion Teddy Bear Rights:
Poor teddy bear is sad 'Cause Angeloo* has been bad She keeps calling him fat When he's really not all that! What is poor teddy to do? He ain't skinny, yes that's true But he's not fat, oh you'll see Teddy's just cute and cuddly!
The past week has been absolute hell, although by now we all know that this sort of declaration is very much a redundancy. It's essentially me reporting each week that I am still enrolled in law school, reasons for which were once upon a time evident to me. One day I shall remember why I assumed that law school would empower me to change the world for the better... Or maybe I'll never figure it out, and die single, unhappy and filthy rich. OR I could avoid the futile search for purpose and instead go on shopping sprees partake in joyful commerce to make myself feel better. Much cheaper than professional therapy, which would never be able to erase the scars that law school inflicts upon my soul on a daily basis anyway.
Last night I was running out of a dark and dank castle dungeon and came face to face with a ogre/monster/gladiator at least twice my size. His muscles were HUGE, bigger than the ones I saw on Olympic body builders, and I was wondering why some girls found that attractive. They kind of look like tumors to me, or parasites that grow under the skin and poke out at unsightly angles. Anyway, I didn't have much time to ponder because the ogre kept roaring at me in his monstrously deep and loud voice.
I ran towards the only door I could find.
The ogre mocked me and, raising his bow with two arrows in it, explained that his weapon ensured that at least one arrow would hit its target. He then released the arrows and one zipped past my head. I was happy that I'd dodged it, until I realized that the other arrow had struck me in the right calf.
I discovered that some magical aura in the dungeon had been assisting the ogre with a multiplier effect on his strength and accuracy, so despite my injury, I ran out of the dungeon and up a dark flight of stairs, out of range of the vile aura. The ogre gave chase, and in an act of desperation, I picked up an axe (which just happened to be lying around) and sliced him right down the middle.
The police then arrived and I was thinking, oh crap, I'm going to be sentenced to death for murder, could I successfully plead self-defense or insanity? But then I looked at the ogre and realized that he'd magically turned into a gentleman, although I could still make out a vertical line from the top of his head to the bottom of his chin, where I had cut him in half with the axe. He smiled at me and told me not to worry because he was alright. And then I woke up in horror.
I think my dream means that law school is a monstrosity that deserves to be whooped into submission. But I think the real moral of the story is this: Do not play Halo if you are a wimp. Neptune and I completed Halo 3 in one sitting -- literally, without even toilet breaks -- and that very same night, I had nightmares about ogres yelling at me and alien tentacles rolling on the ground; in the video game, those tentacles group together and re-spawn aliens that make really awful noises. They kept reappearing no matter how many times we shot them down, so most of the time I cowered behind a rock while Neptune took them out. Because I am such a wuss, these scary things are serious threats to the fragility of my quixotic (and limited) imagination, in which only cliched and cute things such as bunnies and rainbows and puppies exist.
And now I shall distract you (from the fact that this post is severely lacking in substance) with some cuteness photographed before Mochi's passing last year. Both my hammies were trying to crawl out of their house at the same time (click for big):
I miss Mochi... Ever since her departure, I've gotten even more paranoid; every single time I pass by Maki's cage, I call out to her and listen for movement to reassure myself with the knowledge that she is still alive. Just two days ago she was lying very still in her pink house and wouldn't wake however loudly I called her name... In desperation I shook her house, but still she wouldn't budge. I was frightened and on the verge of tears, when suddenly Maki raised her head and half-opened one sleepy eye at me.
Hopefully all of you reading this right now have survived last Friday (the 13th)! If you did not, please do not read this. It creeps me out. Also, I'm looking forward to March 2009, which will contain our second Friday the 13th this year. From first-hand experience involving sprained ankles and family deaths, if you have yet to get rid of all the bad karma you have accumulated, this is a very good time to do so. :D
This morning I reached class half an hour late, which was disappointing because I hate being late, and because it was my favorite block of the week ever... Second only to recess. I adore that professor's lecturing style; best of all he doesn't speak with the ugly accent that so many other Singaporeans (including myself) do, accents which I find distracting and detract from the presentation.
So instead of the standard two-hour lecture, I could only enjoy 90 minutes of the lesson, but then suddenly the lecturer gave The Goodbye Speech. It's the speech that lecturers make at the end of their series of lectures, the one that thanks us students for our attention, patience, and miscellaneous other positive attributes that I never realized my peers and I possessed. I was confused, and soon after, the lecturer reminded us that he was abandoning us another professor was taking over for the next series of lectures. My heart fell to the dark depths of depression and shattered into angular, bloody shards. I then had to go into surgery for a heart transplant. Damn it. There goes my favorite accent of all.
Also, someone just emailed us with essay tips! How ironic, though, that the very sentence in which she condemned punctuation errors, and (or due to) the lack of proofreading, contained 3 punctuation marks use in glaringly erroneous ways. Maybe it was intended for humorous effect. I wouldn't rule that out, since the jokes she habitually makes tend to escape my comprehension. I blame it on my ineptitude; I'm just not smart enough to appreciate jokes that aren't funny. It could also be that there is something seriously wrong with my brain... I did make a conscious decision to enter law school, after all.
School is making me bitchy. :(
On a happier note, I spoke to a dear friend today and it brought me to the startling realization that despite all the events that have compellingly persuaded me to the contrary... I nevertheless hope.
One of the frighteningly everyday conversations I have with my father
"You know why I want to get a job, right?"
"For the salary?"
"To get away from your mum. But don't tell her okay. That is one thing you cannot tell her, otherwise she will kill me!"
"..."
"To be honest I find her character very weird. Do you find that she has a very weird character?"
"I dunno, I think everyone is weird in their own way."
"Oh. But I really think that your mum has a very weird character. But maybe I also have a weird character... Maybe that's why the two of us weirdies can stay together for so long. Because we are both weir-- weirdoes together. How do you feel when you hear your mum suddenly yell?"
"I panic a little."
"Why???"
"Because I assume that she's angry with me and I get anxious!"
"I'm not scared of her. I got immunity already! You know me, right? At most I'll go to sleep, don't care about her. Immune after all these years already. Her yelling is like a lullaby; I fall asleep. Your mother ah, she can yell like that, so loud, but if I raise my voice she will scold me. So unfair."
"Yeah..."
"So who do you love more, me or her?"
"I love both equally."
"HM! That's a good answer. But I think you love me more right?"
"Not really."
"A little bit?"
"I dunno."
"A liiiiittle bit? Maybe?"
"Maybe."
"Awwwwww. Thank you darling. You know that makes me very happy right. But don't tell your mum you said that, okay."
ACT IV SCENE I. Dining room. Family seated around the table for dinner, while MOTHER rushes from kitchen sink to dining table to fridge and back, micro-managing three plates of chicken rice. It is very important to ensure that they do not get out of line, like maybe drip a little oil on the surface of the table, because the next thing you know? THEY WILL START A REVOLUTION. But MOTHER ensures that this remains a distant prospect as she lines the pieces of chicken in neat rows on each plate.
MOTHER Which stall is this from?
ANGELIQUE The Malay stall at Block 352. I wanted chicken from the other one, but this one's not bad too.
ANGELIQUE Doesn't taste different from the usual chicken. This one is much better than the Chinese stall we usually buy from though. How's halal chicken different?
MOTHER They slaughter the chickens differently.
ANGELIQUE I thought they said prayers or something? (MacBook appears) Wikipedia says, "Dhabiha is the prescribed method of slaughtering ... This method of slaughtering animals consists of a swift, deep incision with a sharp knife on the neck, cutting the jugular veins and carotid arteries of both sides but leaving the spinal cord intact."
MOTHER See? I told you. They slaughter the chickens differently.
ANGELIQUE So what's the usual way of killing chickens?? Oh wait, it says here, "It is permissible for Muslims to consume the meat of an animal, that has been defined as Halal according to the above mentioned references from Quran, but has not been slaughtered through the ritual of Dhabiha, by simply invoking the name of Allah right before consuming it. This assertion is supported by Hadith."
MOTHER They slaughter the chickens differently.
ANGELIQUE No, that means that they don't have to slaughter the chickens through the Dhabiha ritual, they are simply required to "invoke" the name of Allah before consumption. Maybe that's where the prayers come in. But 'Halal' and 'Dhabiha' seem to be conceptually distinct.
MOTHER That's what I said; they slaughter the chickens differently.
ANGELIQUE ...
MOTHER Eat your chicken before it gets cold.
ANGELIQUE I'm pretty sure they have some ritual before the slaughtering. Probably some prayers.
FATHER Yes the priest will say prayers.
ANGELIQUE I knew it!
FATHER The priest will say, "Ohhhh all you chickens, all those who don't want to be slaughtered, please raise your hand." But none of the chickens raise their hands. So they are all slaughtered.
ANGELIQUE Hahahahaha!!! What is that nonsense???? Oh my god, that is so religiously offensive. I think you can be charged under the Sedition Act for that!! It's Cap. 290, Sing. Rev. Ed. 1985.
FATHER Girl, don't sue me, you know I'm joking right? Come on, I'm your father...
MOTHER What's 'cap sing rev'?
ANGELIQUE It's how we're supposed to quote legislation in school. So, like, Chapter 290; statutes of Singapore; edition last revised in 1985.
FATHER Have I told you about the chicken that crossed--
MOTHER Don't listen to your father. Always talks rubbish! You know ah, all these twenty years that I have been taking care of you and your brother, it's like having three kids. This one ah (points to FATHER), never grows up! How do you think I feel, after all these years, taking care of three kids all on my own, he never helped, I raised you all by myself, now that you have grown up, but this one! (to FATHER) Still talking rubbish, you never learn, such an old man already and still haven't grown up, I don't know howwww on earth you managed to keep your job for so long--
ANGELIQUE's brain shuts down while FATHER imitates a chicken raising its wing and MOTHER scolds him. [Exit ANGELIQUE]
It's amazing! I keep seeing this one issue crop up when people tell me what's bugging them, or when I watch reality TV and someone's moping at the cam-fessionals about someone else. When it's related to an unrequited crush, it's almost always because the object of interest is sending mixed signals. But I have that all figured out and shall share my wisdom with you! It's really straightforward, too: Mixed signals mean: I'm Not Interested Enough To Give It A Real Shot.
I've been there; before Neptune and I officially became co-dependent, we were once upon a time not connected at the hip -- I know it's hard to believe, but work with me here; it's hard for me to recall those ancient days of yore too -- there was this period of time when I wasn't sure if Neptune would ever open up to me any more than as mere friends. And here is where we throw stones at me for being sexist: I wouldn't have tolerated her indecisiveness if she were a guy, because wishy-washy guys make me impatient, but when Neptune does her wishy-washy thing, it's just cute. Because she has feelings and needs time to organize them in her head. I don't know the root of that prejudice, but the males reading this right now should take it as a compliment, because implicit in that bias is a belief in the male ability to conquer their emotions! Actually... Yeah. That was bullshit and I'm sorry for having ridiculous double standards. :(
Anyway, because Neptune kept sending mixed signals, I made a list of pros and cons, weighted according to their significance to me. I swear by these lists; the process of making them is a thoroughly rational exercise that inquires into the logic and sanity (if any) behind the perceived push/pull factors, yet also takes into account the emotional emphasis I personally place on each individual element. So at that point of time, when I was thinking about whether to get together with Neptune, my list was arranged like so:
Pros - similar interests (+1) - loves dogs (+1) - smells nice (+1) - has nice hair (+1.5) - really really attractive (+2) - shares similar intellectual wavelength (+3) - emotional stability (+5) - no commitment phobia detected (+100) - seems capable of fidelity and loyalty (+100) - inspires a joie de vivre in me (+500)
Cons - too unassertive at times (-1) - does not do household chores (-1) - mixed signals (-100) - has unresolved issues with ex-girlfriend (-1000)
As you can see, basic pros and cons would score a +1 or -1, and then increase or decrease in value depending on how important or how much of a deal-breaker they are to me. From my past two relationships with commitment phobes, I realized that I valued and needed a sense of security and a guarantee of fidelity above most other things, and that one of my absolute deal-breakers was the unsettled phantom of past relationships. That same week I died a little inside because I gave up hope of ever being with Neptune, but it was much easier after that week, because there were no false expectations to blindside me later on.
So, returning after this huge digression to the topic of mixed signals: There is always a reason for them, one which the person sending those signals ('signalor') has deemed valid and significant enough to justify those signals. In Neptune's case, it was because of her unresolved ex-girlfriend issues. For other signalors, it could be that they are simply not that into you, or that they are hiding something (e.g. affairs) or avoiding something (e.g. commitment). Either way, the best thing to do is to remove any expectation of complete emotional reciprocation from the signalor. Mixed signals say to you: "You're important to me, but there's something more significant than that." Why should anyone have to take second place? My best friend had it absolutely right when he told me that in relationships, never ever settle for less than you want. Deal-breakers, no matter how tiny, are still deal-breakers. There's no point pursuing a relationship that's going to, as a matter of absolute certainty, bring up a deal-breaker issue in the future.
Luckily for me, though, the mixed signals and ex-girlfriend issue went away over the next month, and almost two years later, I'm still with Neptune. So I SWEAR by list-making; you guys have to try it the next time you have a tough decision to make, and then email me to let me know if it works, or if I'm just a dysfunctional list-loving accident of the human reproductive system.
It's raining noodles! Hallelujah! And the noodles shall inherit the earth!
If you know me, pretend you don't. If you don't know me, don't pretend you do.
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Angelique
November 20, 19xx
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