I showed this to my mom, like, "Come I show you something cute!" and my mom went, "Aww, so cute." Because - HE IS SO CUTE! Omg, I can't wait for his first Madrid maaaatch. It looks like he's still wearing the same boring outfit though. I guess he's only wearing something new at the French Open...which is sooner rather than later, so I shan't complain too much.
(Frankly, Nike should put him in more colours. He's always in blue, black and white lately which is...kinda boring, to say the least. I miss the gorgeous red polo from last year's US Open. He looks great in red. And it also happens to be my favourite colour which I only recently realised after looking at the massive number of red tops I have in my closet.)
Kris at his hometown parade! Look at him looking all adorable (though I'm sad to see he's been raiding Simon's boring wardrobe). Too bad Katy's face is covered by the camera. How adorable was she last week when Kris was announced safe? I think they're one heck of a pretty couple.
Lastly, unrelated to Roger but related to Kris, I laughed so hard at this video. YUENMEI, you'll totally love it! I thought of you while watching it!
I think I have a problem.
I judge people by their command of the English language.
I honestly get extremely annoyed when I receive text messages that are written in broken English, or stupid short forms, even something as ubiquitous and seemingly harmless as "tmr" for "tomorrow". I suppose the upside is, at least it's not "tml" (I swear, if anyone tries sic-ing "tml" on me, I will not reply to that SMS), but even when I know full well that the person who wrote "tmr" can write and speak proper English, my brain can't help but notice "tmr" and wonder why he/she couldn't have just spelled out the whole world. I get the whole save space thing...except, I kind of don't. Because I would just spell the whole damn word out.
Even worse? When the SMS in question blatantly commits an egregious crime against the English language. "I at [insert place] now." Are you serious? Because...you cannot be serious, to quote John McEnroe. You CANNOT be serious. I honestly cannot comprehend how anyone goes through the local education system thinking that "I at [insert place]" is proper English. Because I cannot comprehend, for the life of me, how anyone could actually send such a horribe message to a person he doesn't know that well, and expects not to be laughed at. Is it a Singaporean thing? It seems like strange people online who try to get to know other people based on one sad picture think it okay to put no thought and effort into their message and send it with full-blown grammatical errors, shockingly lazy contractions and spelling errors, as if it's okay. I just don't get it. I really don't. And the fastest way to get me to delete your stupid message is to spell words wrong, get your grammar all wrong, and use stupid Singlish crap like...I don't even know what, I can't even think of anything, because it's so not what I do.
And it's so not a law versus non-law thing. It has nothing to do with law school. It's a problem peculiar to me because I'm weird and (apparently) pretentious and an unapologetic snob. I may be okay with a person face-to-face, but the instant he sends me some weird "thx u!" SMS, I'm just...annoyed. And that's putting it very mildly.
And speaking of annoyance, I have been PMSing a bit over the past few days. Sometimes people think they listen, but they actually don't, and they think they're making the effort, but they're actually not. And I know I am to be blamed too, but it's hard to tell yourself to make the effort when the words seem so cavalier and flippant, and they make you wonder if there's actually anything worth holding on to.
But I must admit I'm self-serving. I put my own interests before other people's, and I'd choose to do my own thing over doing things with others, even if they're people I haven't seen in a while and DO miss (even if sometimes, it's at a rather abstract level). For instance, I'd choose to play tennis over going to town with friends. I'd choose to stay home on Wednesday from 10 to 2 to vote for Kris Allen over going out, be it with friends, my mom, some guy, tennis. Does it mean Kris Allen is more important to me than all these other things? No, it doesn't. It just means I'm more important than them, because it's something that I want to do, and I won't pretend to be self-sacrifical about it and make it about Kris and how he should be given a chance to realise his dreams, blah blah. I mean, yes, he should, and I AM happy for him that he's made it this far, especially after watching the videos from his hometown visit; but primarily, it's about what I want to do. If I want to vote for Kris Allen, I will vote for Kris Allen; if I want to play tennis on a Wednesday night, I will play tennis on a Wednesday night.
This is also true: I tend to form my own interests independent of my friends'. This is kind of why I've hardly had friends with closely similar interests my whole life. I'm pretty much alone in the tennis thing, at least in terms of the amount of time I've dedicated to playing, watching and reading about it, and way back then, in secondary school, I was also pretty much alone in my love for literature and good, thought-provoking films. I won't go as far to say that I've always felt like an outsider because it's too much of a stretch; but I have always felt like I'm in my own world, doing my own thing, most of the time. I don't talk about my obsessions to my friends in real life, and they only know so much about what I like because I can't stop talking about them on my blog. Because I don't like telling people things they're not interested in; it's a waste of their time, and also a waste of mine. I'd only tell you if you asked; otherwise, we can talk about other things and that'd suit me just fine.
I've kind of forgotten my point, if I even had one. And I just realised there are a bit too many semi-colons in the previous paragraph. Oh well.
Also, I think this has to be said: Every time I meet up with my JC friends, I leave feeling a bit sad and wistful. I love meeting them and catching up but increasingly I'm feeling like I can't relate to them. I suppose it's inevitable as we go our separate ways and do our own things, and things can't always remain at the JC level of fun and idealistic and bright forever.
But sometimes I wonder if I'm not sitting in an ivory tower, worrying about things that someone else might find a luxury. I don't particularly want a 9 to 5 job too, but would a normal person really give it up if it pays $4500 a month? I have learned not to bitch too much about my short-term career prospects because I have learned, too, that I am in an extremely, extremely lucky position, and securing some financial gain is pretty much akin to laying the groundwork for a pathway lined with gold. It's extremely awesome shit, and I won't complain about getting that kind of money next year (unless I'm complaining about it being disproportionate to the stress level and inordinately huge amount of hours that I'm probably going to have to put in).
But everything comes with a price. The more I get myself into this law thing, I find that the more removed I am from what I thought were my innate interests, the more pointless everything else seems. If it's not serious enough, if it's not about the world, it's pointless - at least, that's how my brain seems to see things nowadays. Of course, the catch is that, if I'm being honest, the work I will be doing isn't what I personally deem "serious enough" either, but if we're talking long-term, I'm actually quite glad, and less remorseful, about this law thing because it allows me to have a chance to do these "serious" things, which wouldn't be too dissonant with me if I remember my reaction at receiving a copy of the UDHR in Civics class in secondary school (honestly? I still have it, somewhere in my drawers).
At the same time, while it isn't not who I am, I think a huge source of my ambivalence is the fact that I was convinced, or thought I was convinced, that I would end up doing the writing thing. That had been the one thing that I'd always wanted, and now it seems like I might turn my back on it, if not for good, then for a significant period of time. And how does one deal with this? How does one deal with the fundamental shift in priorities and interests, such that a complete shift would effectively make one unrecognisable to oneself? I suppose it's good that I'm sure of what I don't want, but then, if that still only narrows me down to two choices, it isn't much help either, is it?
What has this got to do with the sadness I feel when I meet up with my JC friends? The point is that we used to have something in common, but now, that thing we had in common is increasingly becoming something I increasingly cannot relate to anymore. There are some people whom I haven't seen in a while, with whom I used to have a connection at a pretty deep level, who I would tell to grow up if I had the chance. I have zero patience for bummers, artists slogging it out trying to make a living from their art (the merits of which I will not contemplate), especially when they're a bit too old for it. And the fact that I can actually write that, think that - that there's an age limit to following your dreams - says a lot about the kind of person I've become, which is a far cry from the kind of person I used to be. That same person I was in JC doesn't exist anymore, and so whenever I meet up with my JC friends, I inevitably leave feeling sad and wistful, for the memories of a future that once seemed bright and limitless.
I have put off talking about graduating - no, make that thinking about graduating - for the longest time, and I'm still not going to think or talk about it. But there are days when I wake up and wonder what the point is, not because I'm depressed, but because I rationally process that the life of the individual, even the collective experience of the human race, is pretty meaningless in the grand scheme of things. If human beings become extinct one day, everything we've achieved will be wiped out, and there will be nothing left. It seems a laugh sometimes, fighting so hard to stay atop of things, as if any of these petty, trivial achievements actually matter. As if graduating matters, as if life matters.
See, this is why I prefer to ramble on in a fangirlish manner about Roger/tennis and Kris. It's more fun, less dark, completely pointless, but at least it stops me from thinking. Thinking is great, and so is having a brain; but not so much when you over-think things. Which I have a tendency to do. Actually, that's a lie - I have mastered it and there is no one else better at over-thinking than me. You know, over-analysing every single thing, every single word, whatever the point is.
ANYWAY, I have nothing else to say. I miss Mag a lot. At times like these, I miss Mag even more.