The last three days of school have certainly been a 2nd degree riot worth articulating about. This is gonna be a long entry, brace yourselves.
Saturday, the 9th of April
The field trip last weekend was glorious fun. We actually went over to the Ministry of Defence, not the MOE. Either way, the trip was wicked cool. It was all such a bore at first; we started off looking at posters, with polite interest, explaining with intricate detail how our crap reaches the ocean from our toilet bowl. That and feigning interest with a 3D replica of mud. (Well, it was actually more like a 3D replica of the ground and what’s beneath; I think it was supposed to demonstrate how rainwater and animal faeces get anywhere.) Okay, so nobody really wants to learn about sewage and cesspools now, do we?
After half an hour of looking at semi-captivating articles on drainage systems and model houses, we headed out back of the MOD building, where, guess what, people were fly-foxing and abseiling and rock climbing! It was so wicked. Everyone else and I got on the flying fox (we were about 3 floors high) and it really wicked. I’ve never been on the flying fox, like ever, ever, ever in my entire life, and I most certainly didn’t expect that to change that morning. It was a massive shame though, that the flying fox wasn’t that high, the higher, the more thrilling it is.
Oh, and some douche got stuck on the flying fox; dude was dangling about 150 metres off the ground for more or less 15 minutes, lucky bastard. Ha-ha. I think his pulley got stuck when he jumped off the edge (didn’t he get a nasty wedgie?) and had to hang up there, several feet off the ground for ages. Good for him. Wish I got stuck up there; must’ve been so wicked cool. Definitely a Sony Moment of the Day, according to Matt.
The equipment for abseiling and fly-foxing (is that even the right term, fly-foxing?) was a little chafing though. It’s like this underwear sort of gear thing you put like shorts where they hook the line onto you and stuff. I mean on girls it looks perfectly fine but on the boys? It rather emphasizes their... unmentionables. [shudders] SO ANYWAY...
I went abseiling too! In fact, I was the first in line to abseil. Took me ages to set up cause I kept whacking my head by accident on the thousands of beams in the flying fox building thingy but the abseiling dudes-in-charge were really nice and tried not cause my premature death, thanks so much!
Dude: Okay, you’re good now, just jump off the edge.
Chels: What? Just jump off it?
Dude: Yeah, just go, jump!
Chels: What? No way! I’m freaked out now. What if the line breaks? What if I slip? What if I fall on that poor guy down below?
Dude: Relax, you’ll be fine. Now go! [pushes Chels off]
Chels: HOLY GODDDDDDDDD!!!!
*
Chels: Oh hey, this isn’t half bad... hey, I can see the mall from here!
*
[after being lowered about 4 feet]
Dude: Let go off the rope!
Chels: WHAT?
Dude: Let go, take your hands off the rope!
Chels: WHAT?? Let go of the rope, are you kidding me?!
Dude: Let go!
Chels: [lets go]
Dude: Well, do you feel safe?
Chels: Hmmm... Let’s see, I’m hanging about 250 metres of the ground and could plunge to my death down below any second now should this rope break. Yeap, definitely safe, uh-huh, no doubt at all, safe, safe, safe dangling here, yup! I’m fine, no worries!
*
Chels: Someone had better be taking a photo of this! I don’t do this abseiling business everyday! [stomach growls] I’m hungry. Abseiling makes you hungry. I want food. GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!
The abseiling was brilliant. Richelle went after me and Branden bought us some burgers from KFC right after. (THANKS BRANDEN, YOU’RE AWESOME. SINGAPORE ISN’T SINKING.) Boy, abseiling makes me hungry.
“Yeah, that was really cool, just imagine if—Chelsea, are you talking to your food again?”
–Richelle
I... have this weird habit of talking to my food before I eat it. Don’t look at me like I’m a loony, I’m sure something’s wrong with you too. Ha-ha-ha.
So after kind-of-lunch, we hung out at this cool (not literally, the sun was pretty angry at me or something that day, I was burning in the heat... that would explain my sudden change in skin color) garden thing outside the MOD building while waiting for the rest of the tenth years to finish off fly-foxing slash abseiling slash rock climbing.
And then we were confined inside the huge bus. It was cold inside, can’t complain. After everyone else came around, we set off back to school. It was wicked. It’s not like you get to do all these really cool rides everyday right? Maybe if we be good kids, we’ll get to go sky diving, parasailing and bungee jumping next. Keep your fingers crossed for that one, you lot. Indeedy-do, it was a gloriously wicked school day.
Monday, the 11th of April
Nothing too substantial. Oh wait, except for the road accident involving my brother’s 12-year-old bestfriend and his mom. And a series of unfortunate events within the Chemistry lab.
So my bro’s bestfriend, Lee, and his mom were crossing the road from Supa Save and like yeah. A second too early, a second too late, and we all know what happens. There were police and an ambulance and all the red ‘no crossing’ tape hitched everywhere and Izaq said there was blood on the road.
Cataclysmic disaster. Now before you guys freak out and launch into a full-length speech about how to safely cross a road with over speeding cars without causing a accidentally ending up in a hospital morgue, let me just tell you that... Lee’s only got a fractured shoulder and I think his mom’s doing fine so point of 60-word sentence: nobody’s gonna die.
Goodness, I can just imagine the school paying someone to dress up as Barney and give the elementary kids a talk about crossing the road.
Barney: Okay kids, now remember, look both ways before you cross and make sure have an adult with you. Okay kids?
Kids: Yes, Barney!
Barney: [turns into a banana] YAY, now let’s go do the peanut butter jelly time dance! IT’S PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME, PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME! WAIYEA WAIYEA WAIYEA!! [insert rest of lyrics here]
Yeah. Bizarre. SO ANYWAY...
Our class had Chemistry practicals at 3:30 in the afternoon which meant 3 solid hours of hanging out at Mamih, talking about a lot of things in particular, cramming some last-minute Chemistry notes on cations and anions into my head and constantly bursting into laughter at Mickko & Izaq’s anecdotes while simultaneously getting lost in the maelstrom of thoughts inside my own head. FUN.
After hours of whiling the time away, I came to learn one thing about the service at Mamih. You know how it’s really, really irksome how the waiters never show up unless you call them? Everytime I go there for lunch after school, they never come around unless you call them. And sometimes, when you call them, they won’t even show any signs of hearing you.
We’re not in New York and this is not some street where you frantically call out for a cab and they ignore you. The service can be so terrible, my mates and I actually had to bring the dishes someone I don’t even know ate off of back into the kitchen for them because NO ONE bothered showing up to clear our table. What the hell?
So anyway... back to my point. They never show up when you need em to. They show up when you don’t need them to! Since no one bothered to come clear up the plates on our table after we ate, we moved to another table. And guess what? The bloody waiter shows up. Makes you want to go, “HELLO? WE’RE DONE! WE WERE RIGHT THERE? AND YOU NEVER SHOWED UP? WE HAD TO GET THE DIRTY DISHES TO THE KITCHEN OURSELVES?” Geez Louise. And don’t even get me started about the food! I found weevils in my fried rice. Appalling.
BUT ANYWAY... we got back to school and I made it to the practicals 5 minutes late. We were to have a practical test and we had to mix all these chemicals to produce such pretty, pretty colors, figure out which cation’s which and try not to flunk the whole thing single-handedly.
The coolest part was when I accidentally poured some unknown chemical into an open wound on my middle finger. It was quite funny now that I think of it.
Chels: OW HOLY GOD, OWWWWW. SHIT, I GOT SOME CHEMICAL INTO MY WOUND! IT BURNS! Ohcrapohcrapohcrap, it’s turning purple! Holy God, is this normal?
Izaq: That’s not normal.
Chels: AAAARRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
*
Izaq: Don’t worry too much. They’re probably just gonna amputate your middle finger.
Rafi: It’s just one finger riiight?
Chels: JUST ONE FINGER? I need this finger! How am I supposed to play guitar? I haven’t even learned piano yet! How am I supposed to react when someone pisses me off and my middle finger is non-existant! Okay, maybe I can use my other middle finger, but that’s not the point! I can’t lose this finger!
Izaq: And it’s not too bad. It’s just gonna swell and turn purple and spread to the rest of your body and cause your premature death.
Chels: You’re. Not. Helping.
I totally freaked out on the spot. My finger was burning and it really was turning purple! So I did the first thing that came to mind. Suck the poison slash chemical out. Whaaaaat? I saw Samuel Jackson do it on this poor kid who got bitten by snake in Snakes On a Plane so you can’t argue. So I shoved my chemically contaminated finger in my mouth, sucked as hard as I could and spat it back out into the chemically contaminated sink.
Seeing as I’m still alive, foam isn’t gushing out of my mouth and my middle finger is intact and hasn’t mutated yet, it must have worked. Not that it really saved me. I mean what if it was just saltwater? (Epic fail.) But hey, this proves I know what to do when infected with toxic substances, yay, someone award me a prize, I’m wicked. I feel like I should be on Lost or something.
Anyway.
There were many more epic failures after that performed by a few other douche nozzles in class. Rafi threw away my chemical concoction we were supposed to be saving for the discussion. Qawi smashed about a couple or so testubes. And so did Matt. And Koh. And a few others. Geez. If scientists are so smart, why can’t they make up some sort of unbreakable test tube, for goodness sake? It should be fireproof, smashproof, foolproof, Izaqproof, the works!
So the practicals ended with many a disaster, but twas fun all the same.
Tuesday, the 12th of April
School was great today, I’d give it a... 8 out of 10. And the reason behind it getting 8 out of 10 isn’t even related to school. I can’t mention it here for all the world to see but heck, I’m certain you’ll catch me gazing off into space with a goofy smile plastered on my face when I think of it.
We had an English test, a lesson on Ionic Bonding, a lecture on our delinquent behaviour in between classes (the amount of racket and noise emitted by our class tends to reach up to 500 decibels when triggered and I must say it hasn’t impressed teachers in the least bit), a discussion on the latest Biology test (scored a B+, not bad), another lecture on Ionic Bonding (which I daresay, rather intriguing) and an hour with a teacher who really can go on forever talking about things, just on and on and on and on and on, you wanna out a sock, no, two socks in her mouth!
And we were given these souvenirs for taking part in the National Day affairs. Guess what we got?
[souvenirs are being handed out]
Chels: I’m starving...
Richelle: Me too.
Chels: Remember when they used to give out food during National Day practice?
Richelle: Yeah. Ahhhh...
Chels: Free food everyday, oh wow. Oh hey, what’s the souvenir? [opens box] I bet it’s a clock... it’s a......... plate. A PLATE? Oh goodness, the irony of it all! I ask for food and I get a plate... with no food!
Nope, not a clock. Nor food vouchers. No, not even food, itself. We were given... plates. BLOODY ORNAMENTAL PLATES, I TELL YOU. Ages and ages of playing hide and seek with the angry sun for two months and burning in the unbearable heat resulting in several fainting spells and severe alteration of skin tone and all we get for reparation is a bloody plate we can’t even eat on! Hello, maintenance? I think the world’s broken. Yes, again. [sigh] It’s not MY fault! What do you mean it can’t be fixed?! It HAS to be fixed! Are you kidding me? Oh bloody hell.
Thank you government, I’ve always wanted a plate. A plate I’m not allowed to eat on. Yeap, haven’t got enough of these at home, no sir.
Labels: goofin' off, people, quotes, rants, school, things that piss me off