Cam Wong
MBBS, Mast.Critical Care
PGY3 Emergency SRMO
I will always stay positive, do my best and love/be loved

Here's to travelling into the future!

1. Starcraft II
2. Reddit.com
3. Whirlpool
4. Ozbargain
5. ABC News



This blog is dedicated to myself, Cambridge Wong. I don't blog here often, and have neglected it for years. Nevertheless, this is the only place I have ever attempted to log my life. So as long as I can remember that I have a blog, and can bother to visit it, I will try to make an update. Thank you
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
March 2010
September 2010
May 2011
September 2011

The blog will be on hiatus until further notice.

I'm sorry. Feeling quite stressed at the moment. Things are just stacking up and I'll need to have some time to deal with it all.
To summarise:
1. Just finished Week 12 and doing Week 9 notes.
2. Doing week 9 notes although I only know about 30% of it all.
3. Formative exam was gg.
4. Family matters.
5. Overall feeling overwhelmed and needing to cut back on non-essential activities (Except basketball)
6. Needing an excuse to cut off leisure activities just to make myself feel better about it.
7. Mainly needing to make more time out of having none.
8. Angry at how smart people seem to know it all and you take an hour to understand something they get straight away.
9. Angry at stupid lecturers with accents you don't understand; especially if they crack jokes that you don't find funny. "Did you guys watch House last night?! How weird is Amber and hallucinations? Hall-lucee-nations... haha, get it?!" - "NO! I DON"T!"
10. Kamehameha!
11. Screaming out that word really helps me destress. Lol, that's funny, ain't it? XD That technique has worked for me since '93

I apologise for any inconvenience caused =P
Let's set an arbitrary date for my next blog post...say...June 18th?
Check back then.

Now, say it with me:
KA!
-ME!
-HA!
-ME!
-HAAAAaaaAAAAaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAaaAAAaaaaaaaAAAAAaa.........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *out of breath*

Labels: bitching, emotions, exams, family, life, rant, uni

/because of my high tolerance.
11:46:00 PM

>>>
Merry Christmas y'all. Have a happy Jesus' Birthday. =)

Before my house becomes inundated with boring and moronic people with their idea of 'Christmas Dish', I would like to take this time to announce that most likely, before the moronic of you actually get here, that you are all actually really useful to me at one point or another.

Before the surprise and confusion in your minds right now about my previous paragraph is replaced by darker emotions like anger and annoyance, I would like to just add that even as boring and moronic as you are, I deeply care for your existence in this all-too dreary world. For it is you guys that I know, not all those other boring and moronic people I don't know, so for that, I think both parties (one being you and one being me) are in agreement and can let a sigh of relief.

To me, the subtleties of Christmas which I once claimed I knew ever so well (aged 5) are slowly disappearing, lost in the midst of memories of the past but more so because I've just lost faith in the entire scheme of ideas. But then again, none of you really believe in Christmas either, so you'd all just take said idea as merely proving how independent I am of Christmas, not as to the fact that I just really really really wish Santa would get me a better Christmas present this year. And of course, by Santa, I mean you guys. =P

That of course, is a reasonable rationalisation, because, that's what rationalisation really is, isn't it? Its all about lying to yourself. If I'm lying to someone else because I don't want them to know something, that's called falsifying. If I'm lying to someone else because they don't need to know, then that's a white lie. If I'm lying to someone else to detract them from a topic, then that's bullshitting. However, if I'm lying to myself, then that's rationalising.

I've been told by many of said moronic people (not necessarily yourself, but seeing how you've already associated yourself with that word and already been conditioned by me as a 'moronic', you can quickly see the underlying irony of the power of a few short paragraphs.) that I'm being way too logical in the way that I think, perhaps even laterally, because really, it doesn't seem to make sense. Some philosophers will tell you that logic is advanced philosophy, perhaps even 'too difficult' for them to explain to you. Don't you believe them - its nothing of the sort.

It is since Euclid, whose elegant mathematical proofs seemed so much better than ordinary language discussions, that philosphers have been atracted towards logic - the attempt to impose order on our concepts, language and ideas. Logic is a mathematical way of looking at the world (no surprise as a High Boy), which bears only a rather flimsy resemblance to it, entirely based on the assumptions that you start with.

edit:
But logic isn't what necessarily dictates our lives, and for that reason, what I had to say no longer is valid. What really happened is I forgot to post this blog entry on Christmas, and the interest I had in writing something I thought was a well-worded ramble is now that without the 'well-worded'.

Will instead do a blog entry on the clothing splurge that ensued in the hours after the party. =)

Labels: Friends, rant, thoughts

/because of my high tolerance.
12:20:00 PM

>>>
-I'm usually a patient guy, but now this has started to get to me. Why though? I'm going to ignore my first instincts which naturally say, "Is it something I did?" because I know that's bullshit. I thought I made it very clear but clearly not enough. Circumstances upon chance they'd say, but to hell with that. Must be the exam stress making my head go haywire.
-----

-I have only seen you once, yet you act like we've known each other in ages. Please, get off my case. I've ignored your messages, your calls and your convos, yet you still won't leave me alone. Its becoming stalkerish, and trust me, your whinny personality is starting to overwhelm me. As much as I care about how your day is, you don't have to feel obliged to tell me what's happening all the time. There is a limit to how much you would tell a friend, and we're barely that. Please stop. I hate clingy, especially in people you're not even close to. It just makes you look sad.
-----

-Clinical exam on next Thursday. Am not prepared. Tutor sucks like hell and has not taught us anything significant since he's appeared. No wonder we didn't get you a gift. You were absolutely crap and gave us no inspiration as to why we aspire to be in this profession. You're tardy, scruffy, unshaven and worse. You use us to get out of your clinicals, and it leaves me no wonder as to why you chose respiratory - the most boring out of the lot - as your specialisation you boring person! Even when I tried to approach you afterwards to talk about things I didn't know, and even when I asked you to sign the medical research consent form, your poor memory retention to what I just said frustrates me. Thanks for showing up 5 times this entire semester, it really showed you cared.
------

-Watched a crappy hip hop movie two days ago. I thought it would be interesting, seeing how its called "kung fu hip hop". It really isn't. Nothing fancy to start with, and Jordan Chan, please. Get the f*** off the screen. You can't sing, you can't act, and most of all, you can't dance. I can't believe you. You started off with dancing as your roots, and yet you still have to resort to doubles and stunt-tricks just to pull off what shouldn't be a complicated move to any bboy. It really makes the movie fail, what with Hyun Joon clearly outstripping you in every single dance routine. The girls however, were hot.

-------

-Done 30/60 lectures. I'm halfway there! T_T Fuck fuck fuck!!

Labels: bitching, emotions, exams, medicine, rant, stress, uni

/because of my high tolerance.
9:25:00 PM

>>>
Just going to fill this blog space up because the copy pasting of said exam timetable screws up my blog layout...which just doesnt go well in my opinion.

KATIE, I STILL LOVE YOU!!!.......in a weird way...

But yerh, let's talk about me today!
Went to Campbelltown hospital and worked (as usual) but only for a friggin hour today because my clinical tutor doctor Dr Kevin Chan had to be at another hospital for his son, who supposedly contracted cataracts in both his eyes (he's only 3 btw)

So yeah, that was pretty concerning, but we got a really interesting story out of it. But basically he promised that he'll take us around longer next week (3 hour ICM ftw!!) So that means we get to play with a lot more patients than usual! woot~ More reasons to pull out my stethoscope and use my newly acquired skills in using them.

Anybody want their blood pressure measured? I can do that now with the air pump thingy XD


Mm...and then what...
went to Kmart, working this saturday, waited for mum to finish work, had lunch, visited Amanda at The Brain, gave my sister some documents to sign, and went to Medicare to register me for a new Medicare card.

So yeah, I guess that's it!
(I am just realizing just how young everybody is...what's with everybody's 18ths...now?!)

Labels: blog, rant, stories, thoughts, uni

/because of my high tolerance.
4:44:00 PM

>>>
yep...a year ago, i made a post about victoria's secret

This year, I will dedicate 2 points about it.
1. JT is better than Will.I.AM and sparkly suits are awesome.
1.5. I SAW BREAST IMPLANTS!! RAWR!!

2. Heidi Klum is ten times better than Miranda Kerr even though she's a mum.

Labels: celebrities, rant

/because of my high tolerance.
10:05:00 PM

>>>
During my primary years I don't think I was very friendly to any one in particular, save a few while being outrightly modest and conservative/subservient to others. It was that sort of behaviour which festered at me, lending me to induce some sort of hollow sense of self inside during my latter high school years.

However, this post is not dedicated to my later social behaviours, but rather the strewn circumstances that are built upon by probabilities and possibilities. To be short, I'll skip straight to the last day of Year 6, where every single student would go to the large park outside Hurstville Public to play while waiting for parents.

On that day, the joy/sorrow of graduating primary school was similar to the mood/atmosphere generated upon graduating high school, and amidst the tears and silent acknowledgements lay the crux of park fun: water bomb fight. There were massive balloons flying everywhere from the people playing with their Magic cards, to the people playing handball, all the way to the young kids playing on the park equipment.

To me, that day will stand out because it was the only day I ever openly expressed my regret at not knowing my fellow classmates more. In the middle of the bomb fight, I glanced around for a new target and spotted two girls in my class walking home through the park together. Fortunately, my mind was not set on wetting others but rather engaging in candid conversation. Quickly hurrying over, I halted the two and stumbled seeing their quizzical faces.

Their expressions of wonder/surprise/confusion stumped me, and I was suddenly speechless, stuck in one of those endless loops of uncertainty where all I can think of was, "What was it I wanted to say? Think...think..." So there we were, the three of us, the two of them against the one of me, all silent, waiting for some sort of ice breaker which would allow us to connect.

Funnily enough, about 15 seconds of silence later, I stuck my hand out and offered them a handshake, perhaps a sign of conciliation, or maybe a sign of friendship and remembrance, I do not know. Following this, I quickly blurted out these exact words, "I'm really sorry about these two years. I know I've been an idiot sometimes in class and you probably didn't like me much either, but I just really want to let you guys know how awesome it was to be in the same class as you girls for these two years. Thank you so much. I really regret not getting to know you guys better."

There was open silence again following these words. They just looked at me and stared. Stared. Expressionless. Feeling extremely awkward, I quickly ran off and launched a water bomb which hit some guy on the head and exploded, leaving the two alone.

They never took that handshake.

--------------
Two months later, I received an email from one of those classmates who thanked me sincerely for what I tried to do and remarked upon my bravery for being so straight forward. She told me about how stunned she was and was just too shocked/happy to reply, telling me how she would like to know me better as well.

I never replied back, and since then I've only spoken to her once.
-------------

Another example of possibilities against probabilities would be another primary classmate of mine who used to live on my street. We never really talked, the awkward boy-girl silence always filling the void and eventually ended up as an ignorance of the other's existence. There would be the silent looks and the look-aways-once-i-think-he/she-saw-me, but nothing more than that. We were in the same class for 2 years, waited for and sat in the same bus for 4, and sometimes even had to sit next to each other, but I don't think I've spoken more than 3 minutes of dialogue with her in that timespan.

At the end of Year 10, I finally decided to talk to her. She too, was really surprised that we were having a conversation and on that 3 minute bus trip back we had the shortest catch-up of events I ever had. When I told her it'll be nice if we would talk to each other everyday on the bus to catch-up, her lit-up face instantly dimmed and vanished when she somberly told me that it was the last day she was to take the bus.

She was moving the next day to be closer to her high school.

In hindsight, I suppose it was a good thing I did have that final conversation with her. Another situation where I feel I've patched up a situation at the last minute, but scraped by. Like before, we promised to catch up.

We never did. That was still the last time I talked to her. I don't even have her msn, and I doubt she has mine.
-------------
Regret? A bit.
Would I go back and do things differently? No. I don't think even if I go back, I'd want to change what I did. It was all a learning process, and it was one that taught me that sometimes taking the initiative to find out more can change another's complete outlook or grasp an understanding of what was really happening.

I mean, what would really happen if I never did talk to her on that last day? What if I never stuck my hand for a handshake?

Sure, there must have been situations where I did not take the initiative, and because of that, there is probably a lot that I do not know of that I would have.

That, my dear friends, is what I call fate.

Labels: blog, Friends, literature, memories, rant

/because of my high tolerance.
5:35:00 PM

>>>
An Anecdote I wrote for English Advanced at the start of Year 11. I found so many pieces of writing that I did that was just fantastic. One of the few times I think I was honest. Got me an A too. XD

-------------
I remember in the deepest recesses of my brain, a tiny bit of my disturbing memories lurked. As a child in my primary school, nobody cared about my wellbeing except for my friends, and even then, barely. Studying at Hurstville Public for a few years, I would never forget the exhiliration I felt when my hands first touched that letter of acceptance into the 'OC' class. Standing for 'Opportunity Class', a select few students were offered a place into these classes. Like the name suggests, the classes aim to provide its students better chances into getting a place in one of NSW's more prestigious 'selective' high schools. At first, I didn't realise the letter was offering me a place, I just stared at the envelope thinking, "The letter's so small, it probably says I didn't make it." I was expecting a large yellow envelope or something similar. I just stared at the envelope until I decided to pass it on to Mother to open, as I couldn't bear to handle the disappointment. Imagine my surprise when Mother broke down and cried all over me, holding the letter in her hand. I blanked and thought, "Its not that bad, is it?!" After another half hour of confusion and chinglish, both sides were at an understanding. Mother laughing at my ignorance and me even more confused at how I made the class and why God liked messing with me.

So there I was, an 'OC boy' as they call it. One of the elite. The upperclass of school society. My fellow classmates all whispered to one another and pouted, "You know him? Yeah, the guy with that weird name, he made OC. Be careful, he's not like us." I thought, "how different could I be? I'm still the same person. Nothing's changed." But it seemed my status said otherwise. Although I was respected for being an OC, I was neglected in terms of friendship. My mates all thought I was above them, and insisted on our separation, pointing out all our differences. I had never been more confused...

I never thought of myself as 'superior' or 'elite', but my peers all passed me off in that manner, so naturally, I thought I was what they thought I was. In the majority of my peers, I found a niche of other 'OC's' that shared and reflected my situation. I was lonely in terms of friendship, but friendly in terms of classmates. Naturally, we bonded. Since 'OC' classes didn't officially start until the next year, all we had was the label 'OC' without any difference to my classmates. Again, confusion and desolation didn't disappear until I was amongst the other 'OC's'

Over the holidays, I considered what being an OC would require. I was told that only one in every ten people were offered a place in an 'OC' class, which meant that put me in the top ten percent of the state. I was terrified what that meant. "Is there going to be lots of homework? Will i be liked by the teacher? Does that mean there will be more pressure on me?" It isn't until now I realised that those questions are shared between each individual who goes to a new school or applies for a new job.

Once term started, I found myself struggling in a lot of areas academically. What I found more disturbing was I was even more worried about how I was doing socially. Puberty had started...

I hung out with David Tran, a good friend of mine to today. Being a smart person with a very perceptive mind, I relaxed around him. I also hung out with Kevin and Michelle, both being really exceptional friends, with the latter becoming one of my besties today. Since our parents were colleague's at work, we often hung out together. They helped me out when needed and I returned the favour. The year settled into a pattern of ups and downs, much like my testosterone.

By the end of the first 'OC-ed' year, I had grown exponentially in height and I easily dwarfed the class. They were intimidated by my height and I used the advantage in open intimidation. I had also taken an interest in girls. I started taking notice of the girls in my class and no longer looked upon them as alien creatures, but captivating, attention grabbing things. mind you, I still regard their habits as alien, but at least I understand them better. It wasn't just me either. By the first term in year six, I noticed the other guys stealing some glances at particular girls. Being the only guy to consistently talk to girls, ie Michelle, I gained quick access to the gossip hotline the girls were engaged on. I often laughed at the rumours, and sometimes believed them, but looking back today I truly realise how laughable my immaturity was.

The pressure started to come in when the selective school exam date loomed closer and closer. All notions of primary romance were forgotten as heads were nosed into textbooks and pens flew across paper. The anticipation for the end of the exam signified the need to study more for it. Day in and day out were devoted to Maths, English and General Ability.

Pressure from parents also started pouring in. The Chinese Gossip Queen, ie, my Mother, the phone and her friends, provided a wealth of information on my expected marks and what I should I be striving to get. As a result, their conclusion was reflected amongst the Chinese community: tuition. So for four days a week I was sent to tutoring with Kevin and Michelle to learn the finer points of algebra and narratives.

Two months passed in this fashion and finally, the big day came. Nerves were raw, tension was high and a continuous build of nervousness were realised. I felt totally unprepared. My voice was broken, my kneecaps ached and I had a bad cold. "Why?!" I almost cried out, "Why did the almighty have to test me again? I hated what was happening to my body, and I hated the fact I was sick on the most important event in my life at that point. I just wanted things to be like what they used to be, before I made OC. I wanted to cry.

Now that wasn't the best way to feel when an important exam is in your face. I somehow survived it. Actually, I did quite well considering my tornado of emotions. I've managed to enter a selective high school, keep my friends and even gained control over my body again.

When I look back, I realise that alot of what has happened was forced upon me. Even now I find many of what I do still decided by higher powers. As I prepare for my HSC, I know that I will be expected to adopt more events that will aid me in the HSC. Like it was in primary, it is now in selective. I can only do what fate has alloted for me, and hope for the best.

-----
sigh...so true.

Labels: blog, emotions, exams, literature, memories, rant, stories, stress

/because of my high tolerance.
1:45:00 PM

>>>
This post would be to Tina and Geoff. I'm sorry I havn't blogged about your birthdays yet, so I'm going to make it up to you guys (via this very insignificant post)

Firstly, I'm going to reiterate myself and wish you two a Happy 18th. I had a great time at your place Geoff, and I'm terribly sorry about my unforgivable non-show to yours Tina (you as well, Amy). On my part, I can only say that working late nights really exerts alot of strain and stress on me.

The next time I see the both/three of you, I'm going to shout you two/three a beer. Maybe you guys don't drink, but I rkn we should make shouting beers a ritual. Like, a way to just destress and just relaaax..(gods knows I can do with one right now, even a midi would be a godsend)

-----
On Friday Morning, I dropped by Kmart just to pick up my shirt which I left the night before (fuck you, Late night fucking Thursday shopping. Sidetrack: you know I had to work until 10:15pm on Thursday night?! And Kmart friggin closed at 9:30?!). Ate lunch with Pris (gooooOoo sushi world) and trained it with Leslie to be picked up by Small Jeff (lol @ his Doraemon Car).

Mmm...what happened next...
Something along the lines of this:
Party Food was Eaten
Mini-games were played.
The throwing of food and cocktail mixing ensued.

Here's a photo of Milton pimping with Matthew and Tina. [However, Tina is closer]There were actually quite alot of little kiddies there. I wouldn't say annoying, but they sure love their balloons.

Met some new people there too. Here's Kaye, Liezl's friend.And of course, here's Geoffwie's v.large and v.delicious berfday cake.

Here of course, are our fine Sydney High specimens.The highlight of the night, captured by me and possibly Gman's dad (LOL LOL XD)
Meanwhile, everybody watched with awe and possibly jealousy.


---
Ah, feels so good to blog again.
Another siderant about how much I hate working. Fucking customers, stop fucking trying to pay me with gift cards! I mean, okay, one is okay, but for a $400 transaction, don't give me friggin 12 gift cards worth $50 and expect me to be able to process every single one and give you your receipt in 2 seconds!! And its not my fault the receipt goes to the floor! You're the douche who gave me 12 gift cards!

Oh, and to that girl who tried to steal store property through my counter, puck you. I stand for 4 hours at that counter to serve people, not to deal with people like you. So I caught you, just admit it. Don't start yelling at me at the top of your lungs like your innocent and then when my manager comes try to bolt. What are you, stupid? I may have only worked 3 shifts, but I'm not that stupid to not ask to check your bag. You can go stuff that lipstick up your *****.

Okay, I'm done. Glad to get that off my chest. Working timetable for this week:
Monday, Thursday and Friday. Tell me last minute, why don't you. I feel jipped and trapped, tired and irritable, and all because this sort've thing really messes up my holidays.

Labels: birthdays, celebrations, jobs, rant, stress

/because of my high tolerance.
7:49:00 PM

>>>
Year 6 (Graduation Party)...
David Tran, Jaffe Chiu, Frank Jin, Thomas Mak, Nick Levanic, Ahsas Rhanjan and myself. The people from my OC class who had continued their education at Sydney Boys High School. The only thing I remember was coming 2nd last in OC every time we did a test and feeling extremely stupid. That, and how I had introduced the entire 'DragonBall Clap your hands to charge' game which I still hold in remembrance.
The Letter...
"Congratulations. You have been offered a place...
...at Fort Street High School."

Dot Dot Dot. I remember the initial excitement at knowing that I had actually made a selective school, but only to show up at school to find that everybody had made Sydney High. Then the disappointment set in. Why? It was one of the first few times I felt I had been treated differently, and to this day, the trend continues...

I remember going home and moping about it, the words, "Sydney Boys High School: Reserve A" staring at me endlessly. So I called the BOS, or more accurately, my mum did, just to check where I stood on that reserve list.

30th.

I was 30th on the reserve list, dead last of the Reserve list. Just one place above the guy in Reserve B. I didn't want to go to Fort Street. The open day for Fort Street was scary. In that one open day, I saw prefects handing money and cigarettes, rowdy boys bully each other, and one Yr 9 guy (who seemed massive at the time), who told me he'd "bash me if you got into this school". Naturally, it wasn't the most appealing of places to me.

5 days before high school, I got another letter, telling me I was offered a place to Sydney High because a 30th guy had declined a spot. I was over the moon. But there were so much to do in 5 days before school started. Buying the uniform, filling in application forms. It was all very strange.

And then...it began. Orientation Day. I remember it as being a very weird time. Being a reserve, there were alot of things that were done for others that weren't done for me. To begin with, I wasn't given a timetable, so I had no idea where to go. Everybody was chattering away and I was the only one who seemed completely lost. One teacher came to me and led me away, (I think it must've been one of the deputies, but contextually, I had no idea who) to one class filled with 'Eedy's'. I did not know what 'Eedy's' were, but it was really quite embarrassing to knock and enter some classroom filled with 30 other boys who just stared back at you in your new uniform and the school bag that was different from other people's. What was even more embarrassing was that I replaced another student from that class; that I kicked a person into another house; that that person was one of the friends I knew from primary, Mr Jamie Tao. Things weren't right...

Fitting in...
Within that first week, I adapted slowly. I stuck with people I knew, meaning Leslie Wong from North Shore and David Tran from OC were my instant friends. As it were, things seemed quite jolly, with the entire class moving together as a pack to whatever class we were in. At the end of that week, my little group included one Raymond Tran (who seemed quite small back then...) since the middle tables in each room were arranged in 4's. Other people fitted in too, with Stanley Jia and Alfred Sin often joining in our group activities.

But, there was still the labels...
I was still the 'reserve', and even though nobody knew that, I always felt different. Getting my train pass and bus pass; I was always the last one to get it. Weeks after everybody else because the school still hadn't registered my name in all its records. Little things here and there just like that always reminded me that I was lucky to be in this school; that I was less intelligent then the rest and I had to somehow make up for it.

That feeling continued in the recurring years at High, when I'd still be the last one to get my train pass and bus pass...all the way until Year 10.

Friends and Enemies through the years...
Its silly really, when I look back, at all the people I had marked as 'potential enemies' and people I would avoid contact with if possible. Its funny too, how the same people tried to befriend me and how I eventually, while not entirely liking them, did not give them the same shit other people did. However, people like Alim pissed me off constantly and incessantly; always sucking up to people he wanted to 'protect' him while teasing other people at the same time. I hated how he had bullied my friend Ahsas out of the school; and prevented 5 years of contact with him.

Those were the negatives. The positives would be the friends I'd eventually make.
In Year 8, I met Matthew Sin for the first time. Boy, things seemed different. Maybe it was because everybody else seemed so small and pudgy compared to me back then... But he's still the same way today and I hold him in high esteem when it comes to talking about my best mates. If he were to ever ask me about something, I would not hesitate in telling him the truth (one of the only people I'd ever tell the truth to). Near the end of Year 8, I met Geoffrey Zhang. And it wasn't the best of meetings either. Haha... I first heard of Geoffrey when I saw Leslie, David and Raymond all getting invitations to a bowling party for Geoff; and when I saw the multitude of brethren who had received an invite, I was slightly pissed that I didn't.
Remarkably, things eventually turned around when I found out that he was a fellow anime watcher (OTAKU!!!! HELL YEA!) like me, and there was an instant connection, albeit a slightly weird one. During Year 9, I would read his Love Hina Manga during recess and lunch while everybody else had to pay him for that same honour. Quite exciting, lol, borrowing cartoon books with almost nude chicks from a fat and wide guy who had bowl cut hair. Hahaha...Oh how the times have changed. But I would say we really connected in Year 10 in Ms Ward's maths class, during our many 'make her laugh classes', in between me teaching Gman maths and him teaching me the wonders of the PSP. (I can still remember the square game that I had triumphed over him by). To this very day, he's one of my best friends I'd hate to lose. You know what? I'd always remember him as being that 'taiwanese singer-guy who pimps alot of chicks even though he'd never tell you about'. Did you know he's had like....4,5 relationships!? zOMGskies!!!
And then there was Richard Yang. It was quite wonderful. Brewer's class for Geo, and Ockert's class for commerce. I don't remember how exactly it was that I met Richard. But it'd probably be accounted for in the train rides we took together every single morning. The group of about 8 guys who took the train together, the times we decided for 'our train' had changed as we progressed through the years. 'Take the 7:41 express!' in Year 7. 'Take the 7:46 limited stops' in Year 8 before 'Take the 7:58 express!' in Year 9's and 10. Those times were fun. Back from the sidetrack, Yang has really contributed to my school life. I'd say he was the only guy who I talked about our careers with (in year 8 LOL), and whatever programs we were involved in, we'd tell each other. (YAA for eg...) I owe him a lot.

There are still countless other people I've met throughout my years at high, and I wouldn't be able to talk about every single one of them. But I can still proudly say that I feel special bonds with all those in my Basketball team; that it was my honour in captaining you men. Richard Miao, Albert Wang, David Hu, Wei Zhuang etc.... And to the other people that have made my life at High enjoyable, so kudos to Ian Tran, Milton Wong and Terry Ly. Each and everyone of you I feel a special attachment to; and I just want to let you guys know that I appreciate it all. Thankyou.

The Subjects...
Year 7
Maths, Science, English, Latin,French,Greek,German,VA,DT,Music
Year 8
Picked Chinese, dropped German and Latin and Greek.
Year 9
Picked Commerce, dropped French, VA, DT, Music
Year 10
Picked Drama
Year 11
Picked Economics, Physics, Chemistry. Dropped Drama.
Year 12
Dropped Economics.
Result? Predicted UAI: 98. I felt I've given my education my best shot; a significant improvement to what I had entered the school with.
Graduation...
I'd like to talk about Graduation. But I just can't. It still hasn't sunk in yet, but then again, I've never felt any attachment to the school. Like I've said to all my friends, none to the school, all to my friends.

Here, I'll tell you a story about my last day at High School.
It was end of 5th period, and I had no 6th. So I wanted to go home. I saw Raymond Tran on my way down to the High Store towards Cleveland; took a photo of him before waving him goodbye. I then decided to go to the basketball courts, where moments later Leslie Wong appeared and we had our little chat. For some reason, he was leaving as well, so we decided to leave together. We both looked up at the great hall from where we stood, and lo and behold, we saw David Tran with his signature folder looking at us and asked, "ARE YOU GUYS LEAVING?!"

We laughed at all this, and we were at the Carpark when Raymond caught up with us and said, "Hey, I'm leaving too!" What struck me was that it was like fate had strung us 4 together, the "Original 4" and that we had arrived together at this school, and now we were leaving school together. It was just a joyful moment that can't possibly be described in words; an epic totalness which somehow epitomised our achievements together in High School; how we have grown and the things we have endured and experienced in our years at High. We were all very different to the 'us' who had arrived together in Year 7, but somehow, there was still a bit of that same 'us' I can still see when I look at us 4.


(Thanks to Jaffe who took this photo for me when he walked past. In order from left to right: David TRAN. Raymond TRAN. Cambridge WONG. Leslie WONG.)

I want to also thank you to all you blog readers of mine. You all mean something great to me; and this is directed to those of you who tag; and to those of you who I know do not. =P I won't mention your names, you know who you are. ;)

I'm going to be on hiatus now until the HSC is over. I know I can do it. I'll be checking my email twice a week and that will be it since I'm planning on shutting down my computer until HSC is over. I know I can do this.

So good luck to everyone! Minna san, Gambatte!
I'll catch up with you guys once its all over.
And one last thing, if you people want those pictures we took together at the lowers, they're all in my photobucket. Just click September and scroll. I havn't uploaded everything yet, but it should be up for your scabbing.

It makes me really sad, because now that year 12 is over, so is Project 07. The original project I adopted off Jess whose aim was to 'take a photo everyday for each day of Year 12'. Its been really great. Let's all have a blast!


Thnx fr the mmrs...

Labels: bitching, blog, celebrations, Friends, memories, rant, school, stories, Travel

/because of my high tolerance.
6:01:00 PM

>>>
Spent the entire day getting rejected by people and getting cash of people. Think I collected about $140 near the end of the day so that's pretty good. =]

So while Sydney Girls had a whole 'stack' of fun (<--human pyramid. Stack. Get it!?), the guys spent the day in the cold, being 'asian'. I guess it all makes sense. =D

I will list highlights of people that stood out today.
-Asian Man who donated a $20 because that was the smallest note he had in his wallet of green and yellow notes.
-Some old guy who spent time asking me if I played Rugby, and after blatantly lying to him about rugby (I actually don't know shit about rugby), he donated a $10. Just goes to show, doesn't it?
-Some retard guy who just walked over to me during my break, stuffed his rubbish in my collecting box, while I just stood there gobsmacked, and walked over, bent down and untied my shoelace and walked off. I just stood there astounded! WHAT THE FUCK MAN!? YOU DON"T HAVE TO DONATE!? I DIDN"T EVEN ASK YOU!!! I got so pissed I chased him and asked him if he knew why he was still a single virgin at 40. He had that same gobsmacked face I had and then he proceeded to scream at me. I stood there taking it all in smiling, and when he was done, he stomped off, with me smiling knowingly that he doesn't know that I had stuffed his bag full of rubbish when I was behind him. I may have gotten punked, but at least I had my revenge.
-Some guy who I asked to donate. He reached into his pocket, dropped a couple of dollars worth of coins on the street, then walked off saying, "there it is. Go get it". Stooge.
-The hot white England Chicks who were some other charity. Had a good time chatting them up, until that stupid advertising gimmick guy with the loudspeaker came over and stole my thunder. Jeez. She was like 23?! and you're balding with white hair! zOmgskies. Bet its coz I'm asian and you're jealous that I can score a white chick that you have to start using your loudspeaker to get her attention.
-The 'free Burma" protesters. I went up to them and asked, "who's Burma?" when they stared at me and replied, "Burma's a country." I was like, "oh..." before I said, "Can I join your protest? =D" I got a free sign that says, "FREE BURMA!!!! FREE BURMA!!!"
-Bought Miao Meow's card and will sign it with the other guys at Dr Du tmr.
2nd last day of 'school' and it was chat-astic. (Although in hindsight it wasn't that bad. Quite fun. Just a lot of stooges and not enough nice people. But at least I did pretty well for a guy with a broken bucket. =D )
---

UMAT SCORES!!
Haha, I stooged it with 182. XD Hell yeah!

Labels: blog, charity, medicine, rant, school

/because of my high tolerance.
10:12:00 PM

>>>
I have zero school pride. It's strange really, when I'm so focussed on creating memories through any media format. I think I connect with the people in my life, rather than the circumstances that arranged my perchance meetings with those special people.

It confuses me, sometimes, when people chant vehemently their school name continuously with pride in their voices, and I just feel absent and disjointed when amongst the crowd, no matter how minute, who are all screaming, "HIGH! HIGH! HIGH!"

Sure, if its a game, I'll support my own team, but when I thought about it, I would only support it fully if the team in question actually had a person I knew and connected with. If it were to be filled with randoms, then I'd probably lose all my enthusiasm towards watching the game.

This analogy I can probably extend to almost anything else that is a location in my life. My primary school, my suburb, my high school, heck; I'd go even as far as say I'm also unpatriotic in that I don't really have 'Aussie pride'. Not that I'd deliberately go out of my way and protest against my own country, but rather my feelings towards this country would probably be equivalent to my feelings towards China and Britain. (I do however, have a distaste for America. Canada ftw!)

Now, don't get me started with shit about 'azn pride', because truthfully, I'd rather not. I detest people who swing those words so idly into my face, "Where'z your azn pride, my chigga?!" I know I'd probably just smile at you and make some random crack joke in return, but honestly, inside, its hollow again. Especially since I came to Australia when I was 3, I can't exactly pinpoint what you mean when you tell me you have 'azn pride'. Furthermore, the fact that I've been here since I was that young and that I've probably retained a larger sense of my own cultural heritage/fads/fashion sense than aforementioned annoyance would only reinforce my argument. Please, if you're not 'fob' (<-- another example of annoying ignorance), then don't arbitrarily call people that unless its a sign of affection. --- Onto another subject of school ranks? I know my blog readers would rather avoid reading school related marks, so just ignore the rest of this post if you will. Just that I'd rather write this down in my blog rather than forget later on.
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Highlight if you really want to read you busybodies. =P Trial results and ranks if known:
English Adv: Paper 1: 38/55. 210 students
English Adv: Paper 2: 48/60. 210 students
English Extension: 45/50, 2nd. 45 students.
Maths 4U: 36th. 122 students. (<--no comment)
Maths 3U: 62th. 180 students.(<--no comment)
Physics: 39th. 128 students.
Chemistry: 47th. 108 students.
projected UAI: 97-98?
Really really really need to king my interview now... I've failed 2/2 interviews atm, so please please let me do well in this one.

Labels: exams, medicine, rant, school, stress

/because of my high tolerance.
7:52:00 PM

>>>
It is a free day today.
Yes, which meant I did absolutely nothing constructive. And that is as it should be.

Woke up at 7 (normal school time) cursed myself then slept again.
Woke up at 8 (normal friday school time) cursed myself then slept again.
Woke up at 9:45 (normal saturday time) cursed my body clock yet again.

And then woke up at 12, when my body got the hint I was trying to be a lazy kent.

And that's so strange, because I woke up at EXACTLY the same time my alarm would've waken me up in those circumstances. But when I don't set my alarm clocks in normal times, I oversleep. It just doesn't make any sense.

But anyway, I started youtubing anime until 2:30, then started to watch all the videos that I've made/taken in the past from the vault and I just felt like crying. Yeah...I mean, when I look back, those times are gone now. While most of them were just nonsensical videos of certain people getting hurt/bullied or some mad scheme of a prank, there were also those videos that I took which while low in action, made up for in pure conversations. What that means is the videos that were taken of the group just chatting normally, not acting like gooks the moment they realise the camera was recording.

I think those conversations are the best because you just end up laughing at the stupidity of it all; and at the realisation that contextually you once thought it made perfect sense. That would probably be my biggest reason for liking to take videos more than pictures.
Pictures are so fake; they don't embody anything unless it was taken without the subject's consent. When you 'take' a photo, everybody is smiling and looking at the camera; maybe with their fingers bent into a V or with their middle finger up. And when you look at it, you don't feel anything.

A video is different. Aside from adding a new dimension in movement, it also captures personality. And whether you cringe when you look at what you did in those videos, you acknowledge that that was what you once were like. From those feelings reminiscence is induced.

---
Did you know that X'mas casual job applications are closing soon? So stupid....they close so godamn early. I just filled in an application for David Jones and I'll probably do the same thing for Myer and Toys R Us after English tomorrow.

I hate it whenever they tell me to submit my resume and I keep forgetting where I put that file. I always have to end up typing another one only to lose it again the next time I need it.
---
Eclipse yesterday was okay. I saw it when I took out the garbage. Thought it was pretty awesome so I took the laptop and camped on the roof looking at it. The weather was perfect yesterday night as well, only 19 degrees, so it wasn't cold or anything.

Lol, but it wasn't fantastic or anything, because of some shitty clouds obscuring the bottom half of it. What annoys me most though is that I forgot to take my camera up there with me.

Labels: blog, Friends, memories, rant, spam, weather

/because of my high tolerance.
3:23:00 PM

>>>
Physics Trials tomorrow. Hm.. Do not know what to think. I feel like I should know the answers to all these trials right in front of my face right now, but when I actually read the questions, I get that feeling of, "hmm...toughie. I'm not sure I can answer this...maybe the next one is easier" and I repeat that thought for every 3 questions.

Now, hopefully, everybody feels the same way and I'll still come out that exam tomorrow beaming. =) But I just remembered they're placing a heavy emphasis on transformers. Oh shit. I seriously just remembered, as I was typing that very sentence.

I guess that just cut another half hour of sleep away from me then.
You know, worst comes to worst, I'll resort to plan B.

If I look like I'm going to ace the trials, people will think I'm going to ace that trial. And if I believe other people think I'll ace the trial, there's my confidence booster and therefore a concentration raiser. =]

So.....

1. *Squints Eyes like asians do*
2. Pulls out glasses
3. Tucks in shirt and pulls pants up
4. Calculator in left hand, blue pen in right.
5. Pops a concentration pill
6. Drinks Can of Red Bull (boo to all you V drinkers) [sidenote: you hear about that guy who drank 8 red bulls and died of heart attack coz it stopped? now that's hectic...think how slow everything seemed to him. one word for it: epic.]
7. Gets 3 hair pins and pins fringe.
8. Gets one more hair clip/pin just to make things even.
=)


SUPER NERD CAM!!!!

WHOOOOOOOSSSHHH!!!

Labels: blog, exams, rant, stress

/because of my high tolerance.
10:53:00 PM

>>>
There is always a glass window people wear when socialising.
There is always a glass window people wear when alone.
To me, I always have a glass window almost 24/7.

A glass window is a fake self, something you project to hide certain qualities about yourself that you are either ashamed of or feel it is necessary to continue holding a charade with. It is interesting, because I've always thought it projects the image you want people to hold about you.
But that isn't always true. I've come to realise that not only is that a falsehood, it does not always guarantee you the true thing that you want. Sure, you get a better image from your peers, but is that what you truly want?

I'm certain that not all people are in this position, because, surely, not everybody is determined to be fake. I salute all those out there who are happy and willing to be 'true', not only to themselves, but to the world. Now, I certainly don't feel this is too abstract to be understood, but bear with me if I skip/gloss over what it means to be 'true' or 'false'.

To me, I always feel I come across as 'fake'. Not real. Certainly not as polished as my image seems to be to the public. And even if you had a bad image of me to start with, that's probably definitely better than what it means to reveal my true nature to the world. But that argument hits a snag...Aren't all people aiming for things that they want, and hence, reveal their tendencies to side with their true nature? Not necessarily, no. Sadly, people like me don't always feel serving our best interests is the way to go. In fact, even posting this blog entry could be considered a release of my 'true nature', or if you were to consider from another perspective, more embellishments that fuel my continual glass window.

People always come to me looking for a joke, perhaps seeking humour which they cannot seem to satisfy by themselves, and always end up leaving either bemused by what I have to offer or downright confused. I sometimes envy them, being able to laugh for the joy of laughing; to be able to truly act out their actions. No, I shouldn't say 'act'. I act. They live their actions. It pains me when I realise that I don't laugh because of its source, but because it is expected of me if I am to maintain this image. And the laugh then comes out. Not truly forced, partly because there is a ring of humour to whatever the joke is, but mainly because I'm so pitiful its funny. I can only speak for myself, but perhaps this holds true for you too? Perhaps.

I do realise that it is often my fault I'm trapped in this predicament, this endless cycle. I'm also aware I just deleted a paragraph which makes this one invalid simply because I haven't explained why its an endless cycle. But suffice to say it was too profound to be on this blog. And also it was too truthful. But I suppose my agenda behind this post was to be truthful...rather self-defeating then, isn't it?

To the point, I just wish I wasn't so fake, so that nobody would ever expect me to be anything more than what I should be. A minimalist. A nobody. Just that guy in the grade you remember by face, but can't recall his name, what classes he's in and who he hangs out with. That guy. No, not the one that hangs in the library. Not the guy who stays in the senior study studying. That guy you see stalking the corridors at lunch and recess because his only purpose in your life is to fill in space.

[The following 4 paragraphs have been omitted]

So following on from that, I can only conclude that this fake projection is extremely weak. One chink in a glass armour and the whole thing collapses soon after. Now, I feel this image only needs to hold for another couple of months. Then I'll truly decide if I should convert to bullet-proof glass, or just melt it altogether and start afresh. Well, at this point in time, I am the fake me. The fake me is who I am. So...

Cheers.

Labels: emotions, rant, stress

/because of my high tolerance.
9:01:00 PM

>>>



Firstly, I need to thank Moshi (although indirectly) for introducing me to watching The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya (涼宮ハルヒの憂鬱, Suzumiya Haruhi no Yūutsu. I feel that a good anime was what I need these holidays (thank god...I almost died re-watching the entire Dragonball series...)

I've come across a couple of these opinions in the past, and as such, have decided to conform and write one of my own.

(Honestly, for those who havn't heard about the show, or watched it...I highly recommend!)

After watching this anime, I decided to reflect upon the status of anime of these days. Especially within the genre of the 'harem' lead.

A friend once told me:
The male lead (harem lead) must be identifiable to the target audience. This is the whole point of using wimps isn’t it? That the harem lead is supposed to embody the Everyman. The problem is that they go to extremes and make the Everyman into Ikari Shinji and that is where harem shows often fall down.

The male lead must take the initiative now and then. If the whole point of the show is to pander to people with no lives, no spine and an active fantasy world, having the girls always being the movers and shakers probably just adds to the sense of helplessness. Sure it might be what some of them want but as Densha Otoko has shown, there is a market for the shy otaku working actively to get the girl.

2) The male lead must give us a reason to cheer for him.
Some may be blessed wit and some may be Kyon-sama but at the very least the harem lead has to be likable. An old example is Maison Ikkoku’s Godai Yuusaku (and his salaryman counterpart from Yume de Aetera). He knows the girl he wants, he pulls up his socks and tries to woo her to the best of his ability. The fact that Kyoko is the wishy-washy one just adds to our ability to empathize with him. Another is Manaka Junpei from the Ichigo 100% manga, while having a spine made of super-slinky at least has a dream that he’s shooting for and actively working for. The fact that each of the girls appeals to him in a different way and that they are largely part of the same ‘circle’ makes it more realistic that he really can’t choose one easily.

Since they started working towards the lowest common denominator (is male, horny, still breathing) harem leads have degraded quite a fair bit. Ranma doesn’t *want* a harem, he wants a cure. Morisato Keiichi has his problems but ultimately he’s a nice guy, a decent student and passionate about his hobbies. That’s an Everyman that we can cheer for without feeling guilty. Mahoraba’s Shiratori is also such a case. We always knew he wants Kozue-chan and while also having Slinky Spine Syndrome, he is surprisingly firm on this (as well as other things, Ousama Gamu anyone?). He comes across as a genuinely nice guy rather than a fellow with no guts that gets pushed around all the time.

-End of Gary's email to me regarding the boring holidays we both suffered and the remedies in essay writing we should send to each other regarding common grounds (ie. anime)

---

Personally, I feel “less is more” is definitely a guiding principle for harem leads. I was much happier with Ai Yori Aoshi when it was just a romantic story than I was when it was a harem show. Zero no Tsukaima is a bit closer to a “standard” harem, but it keeps it down to a dull roar, with only two realistic options. (Also qualifies excellently as a show where the male lead gets it together, for all of its other failings.)

Look at the basic concept of a harem show. “Look at this male character… he is utterly unremarkable, just like you, the horny viewer. But he can be surrounded by cute girls who are attracted to him, for no reason other than his ability to be minimally nice and polite. YOU can be minimally nice and polite too!” It’s kind of a lowest common denominator of harem show fan - you don’t have to have any kind of special qualities to imagine yourself in this character’s position.

But isn’t that insulting to the viewer? I mean, NOBODY thinks of themselves as that pathetic. Even the loneliest guys, on the inside, have some pride in themselves. So the key is to find a way to differentiate your character from “hopeless idiot” in a way that doesn’t alienate the viewer. You can’t make him punch through brick walls, because your viewer can’t do that, and if your harem lead can, you suddenly have an action show with lots of romantic interests and not a harem show at all. But there are traits that the harem lead can have which make him more likeable than a total loser, yet don’t cause the viewer to say “well, so much for me being like him!”

Nobody wants to imagine themselves as a passive participant in their own story… which is why the appeal of a harem lead is greatly increased when he “gets it together” and takes the reins of his own story. Even LH headed there, though not in the anime; Keitaro the excavator was a much more appealing character than Keitaro the human punching bag. Furthermore, the ability to “get it together” is a trait that people like to think they possess themselves, which enhances the ability to empathize with the character’s position. “I could get it together too” is the key message. It’s a way to distinguish the lead from a hapless blob, in a way that doesn’t alienate the viewer.

This is why wit is such an effective addition to the arsenal of the harem lead. It’s another quality that people almost universally fancy that they have, even if they in fact don’t. Nobody thinks they aren’t funny! And yet, the addition of wit doesn’t make the harem situation more complicated; you don’t have to be special so long as you can wisecrack a little about the situation. Take Kyon here. In many ways, he’s more passive than even Keitaro - he goes along with the flow, with only token protest, and doesn’t actually DO much throughout the series… saving that one scene, naturally. ;p But the viewer is extremely able to empathize with Kyon, because we have access to his internal monologues, and they turn him from a totally passive character into a dynamic one.

(It doesn’t hurt that being a little bit mean actually lines up quite well with observational experience, which is to say that the nice guy rarely gets the girl in real life…)

I’ll give Shirou a pass, mainly because Fate/Stay is an amalgam of a bunch of different stories and his character turns into a lowest-common-denominator because the mashed-up plot won’t work if he’s not. Same with Shiki in Tsukihime. Man, Type-Moon… ah well, the translation patch for the Tsukihime game was just completed, so perhaps I’ll try it out, see if he’s differentiated sufficiently on the various story paths.

Another example of show-gone-wrong is Maburaho. Main character is so passive that it kills the show (and the women too over-aggressive to be attractive, frankly.)

What about the polar opposite? Sousuke from FMP is not a harem lead, despite being surrounded by a few cute girls. Why not? The viewer can’t identify with him. He is, on the one hand, skilled in many ways the viewer is not (and his character relies on those skills; Sousuke without his military training is a very different character, whereas taking Shirou’s magic from him would leave him basically the same.) On the other hand, the viewer is radically superior to him in social abilities. It’s excellent from terms of a comedy, because it sets up the “oh look, Sousuke did something dumb again!” situation, but it kills the harem element. Nobody watches FMP because the cute girls are attracted to Sousuke!

Hopefully we’ll see less and less of the harem show. Haruhi is a very good example of this - you have a show with a “harem lead” and cute girls, but very little of what goes on can be classed as “harem hijinks”. The show goes where it’s going to go regardless, and if occasionally Kyon has a cute moment with someone, the payoff is much greater for the relatively subtle way the show goes about it.

I need a life....T____T

[Edit]

Maybe Life is worth living. Victoria's Secret was on...mmhmm..
The girls...*dies*

Honestly though, it scared me. After watching Victoria's Secret so many times, I shocked myself when I found myself tutting at some of the girl's lingerie. Instead of checking them out (as any normal healthy guy should), I was critiquing on their actual lingerie...

Scary huh?

AND OMG!!
JT!!!!! NEED I SAY MORE?!
This is perfect. Good thing I taped it. I hated how in his mv's his dances are always chopped by transitions! At least now I can learn "My Love" properly! I know what I'm doing this week! (Btw, he's so frikk'n hot, he was the 2nd person I drooled over tonight...)

I think I also have a thing for brunettes....so spicy!

Labels: holidays, rant

/because of my high tolerance.
6:22:00 PM

>>>

First of all...Fob's are immigrants a.k.a. Fresh off the boat. There are many kinds of fobs (i cant really take credit for this becuz i got this off a site. I added some in)

Twinkie
- Besides your nationality, there is little to distinguish you from white people
- Your significant other is not Asian and never has been
- You have few Asian friends, if any
- You are embarrassed at family events because you cannot speak your language and everyone has to switch to English to communicate with you
- You have no idea that the other types of Asians on this list even exist
- You think Hello Kitty is dumb and do not know what Sanrio is
- You are the only Asian on this list that does not know what Bubble Tea is
- You drive a Ford or some other domestic car and if you drive a Honda, it is stock

Asian-American
- You claim yourself as Asian, but real Asians think you're whitewashed and non-Asians see you as a foreigner. You fit in nowhere
- You have heard of Bubble Tea but have never actually had any
- You are confused about your cultural identity and express this frustration through spoken word performances at your college
- You read A. magazine and think it's great
- You do not know who Leon, Aaron, Sammi, Hikki, or Kangta are
- You are only vaguely aware of the other Asians below

Yap (Young Asian Professional)
- You are in one of these professions:
a) Medicine / Pharmaceutical
b) Engineering
c) Finance
d) Investment Banking
e) Accounting
- Most of your wardrobe was purchased at Banana Republic
- You go to "mixers" on Thursday nights to meet other Yaps and talk about the Dow Jones.
- You did exactly what your parents wanted you to do and as a result, your life is hella boring
- Your apartment/home is decorated almost exclusively with stuff from Pier 1
- Your parents always talk to their friends about how much money you make. If they don't, then you're a dissapointment

Fob (Fresh Off tha Boat)
- You were not born in America
- You know who Leon, Aaron, Sammi, Hikki, and Kangta are. In fact, you have seen them at Atlantic City or Las Vegas recently
- You speak your native language fluently and so do all your friends
- You do not have any non-Asian friends
- Your parents do not speak any English
- When you speak English, you like to make everything plural
- You get extremely good grades in school
- You cannot dance
- Your fashion sense comes from whatever country you're from and you incorporate nothing from American fashion into your wardrobe

SuperFob
- Your command of the English language is minimal and you don't care
- You like dim sum chicken feet
- You do not own a single CD, VCD, Video game, or DVD that isn't bootlegged
- Your only hangout is Chinatown
- All the lights in your house are fluorescent
- You dry your cloths outside your window
- You need a haircut
- You either smell like cigarettes or food

Fobabee
- You are an Asian-American or Twinkie who has recently "awoken"
- You have a newly found fetish of Asian girls/boys
- You have taken the Asian Studies course at college
- You are trying to learn as much as possible about your culture to make up for your lifetime of trying to be white (Twinkie ; Banana) or Black (Chigger ; Tea egg)
- If you are lucky, you will grow to become Fobulous

Gangsta Fob (Fobsta)
- You have shot another Asian
- Your favorite hangout is a pool hall
- When you talk, you sound like a cross between a Fob and an urban black kid
- Your hair looks silly, but no one will tell you because you'll shoot them
- You have a serious gambling problem
- You are a Rice-boy, but your mods are cheap and are never painted to match the rest of your car
- No one tells you your rice ride looks cheap because you'll shoot them
- You want to have a Tab girlfriend, but can only get Hoochie Tabs

Tab (Trendy Asian B*tch)
- You shop at A/X, Bebe and Club Monaco
- You only wear black and will occasionally wear white to "mix it up"
- You do not weigh more than 105 lbs
- You have never paid for dinner at a restaurant in your life
- Platform heels are your favorite
- You are a makeup expert, in fact, you appear completely flawless
- You do not smile in public
- You are the object of desire of all Asian men and you know it
- You smoke
- Your cell phone is completely customized
- On the inside flip of your cell phone is a sticker pic of you and your man
- Somewhere in your purse is a Sanrio item
- You only date Asian and will only date a boy with a nice car
- You are often seen with Rice-boys
- You never travel alone. You are either in the company of other Tabs or your Rice-boy boyfriend

Hoochie Tab
- You are an import car model
- Your boobs are not real
- There are naked pictures of you floating around on the internet somewhere
- Stiletto heels are your favorite
- Your role models are Francine Dee and Kaila Yu
- Your boyfriend is a Gangsta Fob
- You cheat on your boyfriend
- Unlike most Asians, you do not do well in school

Rice-Boy
- You drive an Asian import. Usually a Honda or Acura
- Your souped up car (known as a Rice-ride or Rice-rocket) is unrecognizable from it's original stock form
- Your exhaust pipe is big enough for your head to fit in
- The spoiler on your car looks like it was made by Boeing
- The interior of your car also looks like it was designed by Boeing
- You always drive like you are racing someone
- You are not afraid of dying in a crash, but you are afraid of speed bumps and parking lot on-ramps
- The only other person besides yourself who can sit in your car is your 105 lbs Tab girlfriend. If anyone else sits in your car, the entire bottom of it will be touching the ground
- Even though your car is a Honda, it goes faster and is worth more than a Lotus Esprit
- If you drive a Civic, your dream car is a Supra. If you drive a Supra, your dream car is a Skyline (which you can never have). Poor Rice-boy.

Fobulous
- You speak perfect English and you are fluent in your native language
- You have Asian friends as well as non-Asian friends
- You listen to Asian pop as well as American music
- You are equally aware of both popular American culture and Asian pop culture
- You are a good dancer
- You date Asian by choice even though you could rock the opposite sex of any other race
- You are a good designer and have superior Html skills
- You have an Apt107 page AND an AA page and the guest books in both are packed
- For you, FOB stands for Fabulous Oriental Being
- You have lots of Asian pride

Pob
- A Filipino fob.
- Words that start with F tend to be pronounced with a P. (Fuck you..Pobarized version: PUCK you)
- FUll accent

"Lets go take some sticker pickiez la! xD Kekezzz"

"Puck You mother pucker!"

-Thanks to Jian for Linking me

Labels: rant

/because of my high tolerance.
9:30:00 PM

>>>
"What's in a name..." a famous playwright once wrote.
"..." I add. Your career was startling, remarkable yet highly un-noticed. My days of boredom still continue, as I delve into the denizens of physics and chemistry, embarking on a higher personal journey of self-discovery, integrating with my fellow conics and humble mechanics. The regions of the acidic environment remain untouched, for my lacking ability to learn quicker than a snail climbing Mount Everest continue to strain my resolve to learn.

Alas, time flies and the world continues. The time you worked was measured not in days but in sweat, tears and endless headaches. Not in things done but in things yet to do. If it wasn't for one speech I might have gone astray, insane, maybe dead?

You still should strive for what you believe in. Do what you please. Please what you do.
You may think to ask me, "Are you alright? "
To which I will reply, "I am quite sure he is."

Is my mind screwed? Am I mistaken? Have you been gone? Or was it I that was gone? Such questions floated across my mind, and I have taken the challenge to ponder the possibilites of these questions. Has something gone askew? What is this, for lack of terms, faggotry of a post?

So be happy. Be nice to everyone you know. Embrace the love they pour out to you upon your return to the messenger service network. And return it. Well, its a slow process, healing. I pity you. You are going to start a computer ban, which will totally neglect you as a result. But no fears, little one, you will not be deserted so fast. Perhaps in April or June. Your owner has not decided. But rest assured, now is not the time. You will be restored after the HSC. To you it might seem strange that I'm typing such an entry to you, in such a happy layout. In fact, this entry seems to belong to your brother, the private blog. In fact, you're longer than the ones I write there I would think. Or maybe, maybe...this is a suicide note left by me to the world to interpret. Maybe. Or maybe I'm too chicken to do it and can only imagine suicide as a venture of escape.

Escape. Such a pivotal word.
Words. Such a meaningless facade of interpretations.
Interpretations. Such a large discrimination based on perspective.
Perspectives. Such an incompetent phrase for something so much greater than what it does.

Who knows...but one thing is still ascertained: You have changed. The past is the past. The present is in the present. The future is...well, the future. Who knows what your future holds? Can you still be the doctor you hoped to be? Or can you get into that co-op program you so dearly wanted? Does that combined law/commerce sound inviting to you? Does it? At the moment, you'd think otherwise. Why of course, you have but 8 to 9 months to decide who you'll be. Then can you differentiate between what you are then and what you want to do now. Hopefully, your absence from the world (wide web) will widen your horizons to where you stand now with your studies, your family and to your friends. One may wish for no more, and no less. You have been missed, little me.


Unlike me. As Mcdull once said,
"My Mother lies in the past.
My Father lies in the future.
Leaving me...
...






........






..............



....................





.................................................







...................................





...........................



..............




.......







....................................



...stuck in the present."

Fuck.
---



I need a cloud....




....maybe two. That'll give me some shade...

Labels: rant

/because of my high tolerance.
9:48:00 PM

>>>
I read this from an article my sister left around..I found it quite hilarious
---

Women are typically far too critical of their bodies. But let me tell you something: men see them completely differently. Want to know why? I like to think of the male brain as a bit like a computer – it receives data and then tries to process it.

Having said that, it’s not one of your fancy silvery laptops with a fruit logo on the front. No, the male brain is more like the kind of computer that might operate, say, a snack vending machine – only capable of the most basic tasks, and even then, breaking down a fair bit. And when our brain is put into a situation where it sees a woman’s body, it freezes, then goes into meltdown. Here’s what happens when we see your lady bits…

When we see your
undies…
Excuse me while I single-handedly destroy the lingerie industry (Cos I’m sure they use this column to take their social cues) …a man’s brain doesn’t really care what kind of undies you wear, as long as we can eventually get them off. Wearing snazzy knickers is the equivalent of using fancy wrapping paper instead of newspaper: underneath, the present is still the same. In fact, wearing newspaper as undies would actually be preferable (provided you do it so we can see you looking sexy, and read a funny story about a lady with lots of cats at the same time).

When we see your
breasts…
Scientists say we’re mesmerised for about three seconds for every centimetre of cleavage we see. When we’re confronted with a pair of breasts in the flesh, it’s true our distraction is amped to the max. I know the right thing to tell you is we think, “Ah, marvel at the gentle bosom of woman, truly evolution’s finest work and a worthy muse for Michaelangelo, Caravaggio and Picasso.” But what really happens is our brain makes a high-pitched sound for a bit, where we can’t actually think, then very cleverly informs us, “I know what they are! Boobies!”

And size isn’t important at all. In fact, the only time we feel a bit ripped off is when you put those chicken fillet things in your bra. That’s deceptive. It’s sort of like, “Hey, who replaced half the M&M’s with coloured buttons?”

When we see your
Legs and Bum…
I know this is an area lots of girls are self-conscious about, but that’s not how the male brain sees it. First of all, tan lines are very sexy; that’s one of the first things we notice. It makes us feel like we have some sort of cool backstage nudity pass.

Also, I know cellulite is a big issue, but the male brain treats it the same way we treat grime in the bathroom. If you point it out, we can see it. But without female assistance, it passes by unnoticed.

Likewise with hair. It will always baffle me how ferociously every tiny follicle of hair is eradicated from girls’ legs, when guys really never notice it. And we do, we don’t care. At the end of the day, our brain is thinking, “I have no idea how we managed to get a girl naked, let’s not go nitpicking” (Unless you do actually have nits, in which case we’d pick them off for you discreetly)
So, I guess the moral here is: no matter how you se your body, you never have much to worry about. The male brain is so easily distracted by all the positives, it really doesn’t see any of what you might think are your flaws. For instance, there’s this girl in a lipstick ad…and…I’m sorry, there was cleavage involved. What was I saying?

-Hamish Blake, Comedian

---
SO HILARIOUS!!!

Labels: rant

/because of my high tolerance.
11:24:00 PM

>>>
30 Things Guys Want Girls to Know

Thanks to Asianfanatics

1. We're not as perverted as you think we all are.
2. No matter what YOU say, your ex-boyfriend IS an ass hole.
3. We like you to give us hugs and kisses sometimes too.
4. Don't argue with us when we call you beautiful.
5. Don't treat us like sh*t, what goes around comes around.
6. We know you're pretty, that's one of the reason's we're going out with you.
7. Don't go into detail about your period. It scares us.
8. If you have cramps and we ask you what's wrong, just tell us it's that time of the month and nothing more.
9. If you really liked us for us, you would let us think that our mustache, beard, or sideburns looked cool.
10. We never shave our legs. So get over it.
11. NEVER ask us if you can put makeup on us. It's just wrong.
12. Don't make bets about us, because one of your friends will tell us, if you don't.
13. When we tell you that you're not fat, believe us.
14. We absolutely do not care about the Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, 98 Degrees, or what any other guy looks like for that matter.
15. We may not be able to pee accurately all of the time, but at least we can stand up and go pee.
16. Just cause you think you're always right, doesn't mean that you don't have to apologize when you do something "wrong."
17. You expect us to say and do sweet things for you, but it would be nice if you did the same every once in a while. We like to know that you love us.
18. We can't always be spontaneous, so try to help us make the plans sometimes.
19. Don't ask us to beat up another guy for you, cause you might get what you wish for.
20. Never kick us in the nuts "just to see what we would say". That's just mean.
21. Never pretend like you are going to break up with us and laugh when we believe you.
22. Pamela Anderson's boobs aren't fake anymore, but we like yours better anyway.
23. Size doesn't matter, except to idiots who don't want a relationship.
24. PMS is not an excuse.
25. If you want us to put the seat down when we're done, you should put it up when you're done.
26. Don't tell us how cute your ex-boyfriend was. That doesn't turn us on.
27. And always remember: The way to a guys heart is through his stomach..... and maybe....oh nevermind.
28. NEVER ask us to kiss other guys. You might be that comfy with your friends, but to us it's just wrong.
29. We always notice how funny it is after your rip out our heart, stick it down our throat and still want to be friends.
30. And last but not least: We know you're not always right, but we'll pretend like you are anyway.

Some of them are completely off the mark, but who carez. It was cute and funny~

Labels: rant

/because of my high tolerance.
6:03:00 PM

>>>
Seriously..what the frap is up with these dolls?!! HONESTLY!! They're meant to be child toys right?!!

---
Okay, before I start blowing my top off at why I rkn these dolls are the sickest, most gruesome things plastics can make, I might as well tell you why I'm thinking that and what led me into thinking that...

So Today was just another day, no school or anything. I still went to school regardless to study (To those that reckon you can't study at school, I just proved that you can..polishing off another 2 chapters in 3U...[co-ordinate geometry and calculus] ). Was with Andrew the entire day (he's awesome :D ) and we totally math-ed it like nerds!!

After, waited till he finished his PDHPE speech (lame...) then went to central. Went to Hurstville and decided to meet up with a few friends. We went Westfields and just bumm-ed there for iono..1/2 hr? Then decided to go to Toys R Us to buy Rose a birthday present.

When I was humbly searching for a suitable toy for a 6 year old girl, I stumbled upon THOSE THINGS! Gosh honestly, what happened to the good ol' barbie ideals? BrAtZ? Geebus christ, look at those dolls. This is marketed at kids right? Is that what society wants our children to look like in the future? SIF THIS ISN"T PROMOTING PEDOPHILIA....
My God...the entire package is basically screaming it out.

If there were a string I could pull, the doll would probably say, "Hey you...you want to see my upgrades? See this skirt and tight top...its now detachable."

And if that isn't enough, pull the string again and the doll would go
"Once you do take my clothes off, you'll see my real upgrades...teeheeehe teeehee..."

--
You know...this sort've advertising and dolls should really be pulled off the shelves....I don't get why parents would complain about the potential dangers of their children swallowing their TMX elmo's and not complain about the potential danger this doll is promoting rape and accelerating their own child's slut capacity.

What next? So they've revolutionised the Barbie doll, turned it from its Fairy/Princess looks into a whore/bitch/slut/(other derogatory terms that fit the description). They've killed off Ken. Are they going to change the animals as well?! I'd hate to see the Barbie pony turn into something as grotesque...

-End of Rant-

EDIT: ZOMG!! WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.............
After googling for a better image to edit, I came across the terrible sadness of the world...

They've actually done it. I couldn't imagine it before, but they've just turned animals into sluts as well...Gosh...

"PonyZ" they call it...I feel sick...

Labels: rant

/because of my high tolerance.
2:46:00 PM

>>>