It’s the last day of school, and I’m feeling a little sad. Oh alright, I’m feeling so emotional that its not even funny. Honestly speaking, I don’t know if I actually get to have a class like this ever again. Where I get to go on gigs with my friends, watch movies, chilling out at random places as and when we feel like. I’ll most definitely miss talking to them, people watching and bitchy gossip. Its not every semester that I get to have a class like this. Although some of the drama can be excluded. But I won’t mind having more of Ben in my class. Who had a really horrible haircut. But please don’t tell him that.

I’m going to have withdrawal symptoms for this.

Church, a place that I haven’t been for a long time. And I know that its not good for me to do so. But it doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped believing in God. I still pray, although I’m sinning for not going for mass because its an obligation. I do miss some people there. Keynote, some people. Which I’ll make an effort to meet up with.

Somehow, detaching from church seemed like a good move for me, even though it was totally unintentional. Even less drama in my life, less gossip and somehow, less backstabbing. Simply because the walls in church have ears and whatever you say, someone else is bound to hear it and people do make a mountain out of a molehill. Everyone knows something about everyone else. And people do say what they don’t know about. The peace and serenity I used to seek there, well, most of it is gone.

Its all about the politics there I suppose. Something I can live without.

But church isn’t all that bad, really. I’ve found people I’ll treasure with my whole life. And life lessons learnt. But then again, politics seem to turn me off. To think that I used to be part of this, now I want nothing to do with it.

Life might seem to be getting lighter for me. Holidays are coming, and hopefully I do get a short vacation. Cruise! Which hopefully I can try my hardest that I can actually lose some weight because I have every intention to use the swimming and gym facilities available there. I want to be able to see hot guys with a six-pack, or maybe it can turn into a love boat where I can have summer love.

Lets just hope that Ben won’t be jealous.

All of this before I kill myself with all the work I’m about to have. Training for Hippo Tours are on Saturday, and Kym says that I might be able to get a hang of it after one day, at most two. My mother is drilling me on what I should learn and what I should not. I’m practically following in her footsteps. Its all about the money, I mean, who doesn’t want a job that costs 8 dollars an hour? And Ben says that only females can get such a high paying job. Rubbish. Just because he is lazy to talk, that’s why. And to think that he is a sales person. My backside. I don’t talk to bluffers.

Two jobs, lets hope that I won’t die of exhaustion.

One thing that I don’t understand. What makes Xiaxue so famous? Seriously. Even to a point where she can do blogging full time and earn big bucks for it. Is it because she talks about controversial issues or what? I simply don’t get it. She seems to be able to rant and rant and still, she gets paid for it. Ironic isn’t it?

Anyway, speaking of ranting, I have something I wish to say. THERE IS SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH SINGAPOREANS THESE DAYS. Seriously. Especially educated working class adults. Their mannerisms flew out of the window.

Take for example, in public transport. Every morning when I go to school, I experience the same thing over and over again. Its like a routine or something. I get off the train and I see a huge mass of people standing at the escalator, squeezing their way trying to get up the escalator, sometimes even pushing their way in. This is really irritating especially when you’re half-awake in the morning and you have people bumping into you or using their body to push you away so that they can get on the escalator first. Irritating or what? And there is this classic case. Every morning, at a particular time when I go to school, there would be this middle-aged man, reading the bible out loud to himself. I have nothing against that. And one stop before he alights, he keeps his bible, still mumbling to himself mind you, pushes his way to the front until he is standing directly infront of the door, and when it does eventually open, he practically runs out to the escalator and then he becomes one of those irritating people who pushes their way so that he can get on. The most stupid part? He needs to change trains, so even though he squeezes his way through other people, he still needs to wait for the other train. Stupid.

Some people can be really impatient. And some people can be damn stupid to not know that the right side of the escalator is meant for people in a rush and let them walk up. Talk about educated working class adults.

Speaking of impatient, another incident that pissed me off. Is that people can wait for passengers to get off the train before getting on. What is it with Singaporeans and squeezing? National pastime maybe? Just when I thought that it was queuing up for free things.

Sorry for the rant. Maybe my period is coming, that’s why.

Oh yes, not to be racist or anything, but Indians prove to be an impatient bunch. Serving them makes me want to throw boiling coffee at them sometimes. SOMETIMES. When they can’t wait in the line to order. And when they finally do order, they go to the pick up counter and demand of their drink. DEMAND. And its not the first time.

Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against them. I really don’t. My bestfriend is an Indian and so is Nesha. And I love them both, but sometimes. The things they do really irritate the hell out of the poor people working at Coffeebean. Just ask anytime who works at Vivo or Sentosa. They’ll tell you the same thing.

I’m sorry if this offends anyone, but I’m just trying to voice out.

And one last thing. Sher, I love you. Many much. And you know that you can call me anytime. Even if it is at three or four in the bloody morning. If you need a shoulder. Or my sarcasm. Or if you simply need me being there to watch you laugh or cry. I will. Because I didn’t go through twelve years with you for nothing. And I’m willing to got through 1794008263486 more years with you. Remember that. And I’ll braid your hair for you anytime. Loves.

There goes a thousand word post. I think my professional profiling might end up as long as this.

One last thing before I go.

The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight! The Fire Fight!

And something else.

BEN! BEN! BEN!

I miss you.