Anyway. Yesterday I completed my 24th paper diary. It has a picture of James Dean on the back that I pasted. I took it from an advertisement for some watch, I forget what, Ventura maybe. It's the picture of him walking down the streets of New York wearing a winter coat with a cigarette jammed between his lips. It's one of my favourite pictures of him as it's really natural.
I had a Maths test. The last question was on factorisation of cubic equation, which is really easy shit, but because it's at the very end and I wasted time drawing stupid graphs that I'm pretty sure are wrong, I didn't get to do it. I feel so robbed of my 11 marks or so. Goddammit. I was hoping to pass that stupid test but I guess I can bloody well dream on.
Let's see. My friends don't seem to like Genie too much. I suppose it's primarily due to the fact that he's sexual with me. Whatever. We made jokes about me being pregnant in school, and during recess Mrs. Jerry Yen made a comment about the Dad and the baby, but I didn't catch it. I asked, "What?" They didn't want to tell me.
I could tell from the looks on their faces that it was something negative, probably along the lines of, "The father won't take care of the baby one." ("One" being strictly Singlish.)
I'm not going to burst my nerves getting annoyed at it. I'm not going to get defensive either. I just can't be bothered anymore.
It's slightly unfair, as they don't even know him. They don't even know how he looks like (with the exception of Yunnie and Pearl). They haven't even seen the way he looks at me, the way he touches me, and they have no idea what he does to me.
Hence, I conclude that they have no right judging my boyfriend or what I choose to do with him.