Mostly Catching Up
It appears that I am becoming a positively outgoing person; where I never used to stir a foot out of doors except for the most pressing reasons, I now find myself gallivanting around the city like the most addicted of mall rats. It does not bode well for either my wallet or my grades. Not, of course, that either was ever in good conditions.
It also seems that I have very, very horny classmates who erupt into raucous laughter at the least sign of suggestiveness. The following incident occurred on Friday:
Somebody: "...all the girl."
English Teacher: "All the girls. Plural, with an s."
The Boys: "An S!!" Eruption of laughter.
English Teacher: Exasperatedly "Well, of course! Is there anyone without an 's'?"
The Rest of the Class: Laughter loud enough to drown out the rest of teacher's words.
And I must admit that it did seem amusing at the time.
On Saturday, I went to SWank (not a misspelling) to meet up with a few of my ex-classmates: Lieu, Wolf, Jack, and a few others whom I am only barely acquainted with. We had made arrangements to meet up at a fast food outlet in the basement; I, predictably, got lost en route from the bus stop to the shopping complex. (Another alteration of habit; I never took buses while at home.)
Due to a singularly Malaysian habit of being late, I arrived five minutes late and found only Jack waiting for the other six or seven people to turn up. I decided that the city had not had a good influence on his sense of fashion, because he had gelled his hair up seven centimetres and made it bend slightly to the left; the overall effect (as seen from above) resembled a palm tree under strong wind.
And then Lieu and Wolf turned up, in that order, and I decided that the bad effect was contagious. Lieu was wearing a shirt that could've been anywhere from grey to pink in my eyes, and I thought he had a couple of tiny studs arranged beneath it until I realised that it was the shirt. It was roughly thirty sizes too small for him, and his nipples stood out like the Statue of Liberty. I thanked God profusely that he was neither obese nor female.
And then Wolf (who still looks exactly the same as always) told me that I looked like a walking black cloud--his gentle way of telling me to go get a haircut! Well, I'd been expecting something like that for awhile.
The rest of the time passed in a blur of (me watching them) having lunch, waiting for the others to turn up, trading gossip between mouthfuls ("Did you hear? Limp [an ex-classmate who moved to KL four years ago] is seven feet tall!" "No way! How'd you know?" "I saw him...") by both males and females alike, bitching about schools ("You know what? My hostel electricity gets cut off without notice every sixteen hours! And the water looks like pond scum..."), and wandering around clothing outlets.
Wolf and I got very bored while the others went ooh-ing and aah-ing over shirts and jeans of various sizes, colours, and cuts, so we had our own conversation on the side, mostly consisting of criticising everything around us down to the very ground we stood on. It's one of the many common traits we have; in fact, I suspect that Wolf is also a Choleric Melancholy (or the other way around). Well, like attracts like.
It was nearly four when they finally got tired of fingering fabrics in awe and decided to go for a drink at the food court, after which we all parted ways with promises to get back in touch sooner or later. It had emerged that I was the most aimless one there during conversation; everybody else was doing foundations for courses except I. (I'm doing A-Levels for the sole reason that it leaves my choices wide open and I haven't made up my mind about future careers yet.)
And then on the bus back, Lime called me up. She's a secretary who used to rent a room in my house about nine years ago, and she got to know my family (especially the kids) very well indeed. Although it's curious the tricks memory plays. My primary memory of her is me thrashing on the floor while she held my feet with one hand and tickled me with the other. Her primary memory of me is me refusing to do anything she said! And she's completely forgotten tickling anybody, ever, and I've certainly no memory of yelling at her.
Anyway, she took me off to go shopping again, but since this time she wanted to pay for everything, I let her, and ended up with a pair of green-brown pants, a bunch of clothes-pegs, about 3 kilos of milk powder, a jar of raisins, and a peach. She asked me what I planned to do with the raisins, and I said they were for the oats. She said that was just like me. ("Always had your own kind of taste" was what she actually said.)
And then we had the most expensive dinner I've had in KL so far. It cost about 30 bucks and actually covered three bowls of rice, two portions of roasted chicken (without the wings), a bowl of soup, four fried sou tou, and bean sprouts. It tasted very, very good, though; and I must say the ginger/garlic paste provided to go with the chicken proved excellent!
Of course, we did talk during dinner, but since it mostly concerned personal matters, you don't need to know any of it. However, I would love to know the right answer to someone asking: "Do I look thinner?"
Answer yes, and you imply that she used to be extremely plump. (I found this out three seconds too late and ended up trying to reassure her that it was all a matter of perspective.) Answer no, on the other hand, and you seal your own doom. It's as good as a riddle of the Sphinx!
So that's how I spent my Saturday; I only found out, far too late, that I hadn't done any homework at all. Fortunately my lecturers aren't too strict about such things, but I'm going to have to finish it anyway.
It's a matter of habit, you understand.
It also seems that I have very, very horny classmates who erupt into raucous laughter at the least sign of suggestiveness. The following incident occurred on Friday:
Somebody: "...all the girl."
English Teacher: "All the girls. Plural, with an s."
The Boys: "An S!!" Eruption of laughter.
English Teacher: Exasperatedly "Well, of course! Is there anyone without an 's'?"
The Rest of the Class: Laughter loud enough to drown out the rest of teacher's words.
And I must admit that it did seem amusing at the time.
On Saturday, I went to SWank (not a misspelling) to meet up with a few of my ex-classmates: Lieu, Wolf, Jack, and a few others whom I am only barely acquainted with. We had made arrangements to meet up at a fast food outlet in the basement; I, predictably, got lost en route from the bus stop to the shopping complex. (Another alteration of habit; I never took buses while at home.)
Due to a singularly Malaysian habit of being late, I arrived five minutes late and found only Jack waiting for the other six or seven people to turn up. I decided that the city had not had a good influence on his sense of fashion, because he had gelled his hair up seven centimetres and made it bend slightly to the left; the overall effect (as seen from above) resembled a palm tree under strong wind.
And then Lieu and Wolf turned up, in that order, and I decided that the bad effect was contagious. Lieu was wearing a shirt that could've been anywhere from grey to pink in my eyes, and I thought he had a couple of tiny studs arranged beneath it until I realised that it was the shirt. It was roughly thirty sizes too small for him, and his nipples stood out like the Statue of Liberty. I thanked God profusely that he was neither obese nor female.
And then Wolf (who still looks exactly the same as always) told me that I looked like a walking black cloud--his gentle way of telling me to go get a haircut! Well, I'd been expecting something like that for awhile.
The rest of the time passed in a blur of (me watching them) having lunch, waiting for the others to turn up, trading gossip between mouthfuls ("Did you hear? Limp [an ex-classmate who moved to KL four years ago] is seven feet tall!" "No way! How'd you know?" "I saw him...") by both males and females alike, bitching about schools ("You know what? My hostel electricity gets cut off without notice every sixteen hours! And the water looks like pond scum..."), and wandering around clothing outlets.
Wolf and I got very bored while the others went ooh-ing and aah-ing over shirts and jeans of various sizes, colours, and cuts, so we had our own conversation on the side, mostly consisting of criticising everything around us down to the very ground we stood on. It's one of the many common traits we have; in fact, I suspect that Wolf is also a Choleric Melancholy (or the other way around). Well, like attracts like.
It was nearly four when they finally got tired of fingering fabrics in awe and decided to go for a drink at the food court, after which we all parted ways with promises to get back in touch sooner or later. It had emerged that I was the most aimless one there during conversation; everybody else was doing foundations for courses except I. (I'm doing A-Levels for the sole reason that it leaves my choices wide open and I haven't made up my mind about future careers yet.)
And then on the bus back, Lime called me up. She's a secretary who used to rent a room in my house about nine years ago, and she got to know my family (especially the kids) very well indeed. Although it's curious the tricks memory plays. My primary memory of her is me thrashing on the floor while she held my feet with one hand and tickled me with the other. Her primary memory of me is me refusing to do anything she said! And she's completely forgotten tickling anybody, ever, and I've certainly no memory of yelling at her.
Anyway, she took me off to go shopping again, but since this time she wanted to pay for everything, I let her, and ended up with a pair of green-brown pants, a bunch of clothes-pegs, about 3 kilos of milk powder, a jar of raisins, and a peach. She asked me what I planned to do with the raisins, and I said they were for the oats. She said that was just like me. ("Always had your own kind of taste" was what she actually said.)
And then we had the most expensive dinner I've had in KL so far. It cost about 30 bucks and actually covered three bowls of rice, two portions of roasted chicken (without the wings), a bowl of soup, four fried sou tou, and bean sprouts. It tasted very, very good, though; and I must say the ginger/garlic paste provided to go with the chicken proved excellent!
Of course, we did talk during dinner, but since it mostly concerned personal matters, you don't need to know any of it. However, I would love to know the right answer to someone asking: "Do I look thinner?"
Answer yes, and you imply that she used to be extremely plump. (I found this out three seconds too late and ended up trying to reassure her that it was all a matter of perspective.) Answer no, on the other hand, and you seal your own doom. It's as good as a riddle of the Sphinx!
So that's how I spent my Saturday; I only found out, far too late, that I hadn't done any homework at all. Fortunately my lecturers aren't too strict about such things, but I'm going to have to finish it anyway.
It's a matter of habit, you understand.
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