Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Worlds collide.



In the eyes of all the narrow-minded teachers at my high school, I was the-girl-with-the-attitude-problem.



They didn't care that I got good grades or that I helped pull up the average of the school in major examinations or that I had 10 stunning A's for SPM or that I debated for the school and state or that I wrote stuff for the school in competitions or that I helped raising funds for the school.



And most importantly, they never cared about the 500 ringgit that my teammates and I won in a competition, which we were forced to donate to the school.



All that mattered to them was that I had hair falling all over my face and that I skipped school a little too often and I was rude to them.



So what if I stayed home during school days because I thought my teachers weren't doing a very good job teaching and that I would rather be studying at home than attending school? With my parents' permission at that.



So fine, I had hair falling over my eyes but who am I harming by doing so? And when some rigid, kampung mentality teacher questions me about my hair and start making rude remarks, what's wrong in standing up for myself by raising my voice?



So to all the asshole teachers in my high school who sat in the staffroom all day shaking their legs, eating karipap and drinking teh ais, talking about what an epic failure Tharani Naidu is going to become, I'll tell you now that I'm going to medical school and will be a successful doctor. And when you come running to me to save your lives, I might have to think twice.

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p/s- I didn't mean all the teachers in my high school, just certain narrow-minded ones who were always finding faults in students and bullying those who were too afraid to stand up for themselves. But to the rest of the teachers who always had faith in me, I love you guys.


Sunday, February 15, 2009

Agony and irony.



Yes, I found my passport. It was in this isolated drawer at home, I mean nobody would ever think of looking for something there. It's like a hidden and concealed and unnoticeable drawer. That's why i took so long to look for it, you know. It's like an impossible place to look for a missing passport.



Totally and extremely and awfully impossible.



Okay la. Wtf la. I'm lying. It was in this drawer so close to the television, the first place anybody would think of checking if they were looking for something. Of course, I didn't think of looking for my passport there la because I'm such a genius that even I amaze myself sometimes.



It's so typical of me to ignore what's right before my eyes la, I tell you. I even thought of searching the dustbin but not that drawer, the toilet but not that drawer. I emptied all my jeans pockets and checked inside the washing machine also. You know, I think I walked past that drawer a gazillion times but never once thought of looking inside it.



So when I was like in a gonna die state, I told my sister about the missing passport and that I'll have to smuggle myself out of the country and would she bail me out if I get caught by the police.



She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "It should be around here somewhere la." And I said, "No, it's not. I looked for it everywhere already la."




Oh, and I emphasized soo much on that everywhere.



I think my sister panicked a little too so she said she'd help me to look for it. And so she stood up and walked straight up to that drawer and opened it and took my passport out and said, "Eh, you want attention is it?"



Sigh.


I think I just told everyone what a dork I am on my own blog.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

I misplaced


my passport.


I
am
so
screwed.