Period + Grass = TERRORIST THREAT!

Well today was just fantastic. I got my period halfway into a four hour face painting session. I stood up to stretch and oh. MY. LORD. And of course I never bring anything with me, it just totally spoils my image, you know? I've just had too many embarrassing incidents of trying to take out my wallet and having unsightly things fall on the floor to be viewed by disapproving aunties and embarrassed uncles. So I needed to go to plan B: lots and lots of toilet paper. Oh, the joy.

Wait, did I mention that this face painting thing was in the middle of a field? On the opening day of Clean and Green week? Thus it was, on this, the 3rd day of November, that I found myself making a beeline towards the blue Portapumpers, sitting just across the green green grass, praying that they had toilet paper, please have toilet paper, please please please.

But I was thwarted. Thwarted, again, by Harry Potter a nice burly Indian man who told me No miss, you are not allowed to go across the grass because the Prime Minister is here. Oops, silly me, I should have known that you just can't go walking on grass when the Prime Minister is in a tent 300 metres away, totally obscured from view and terrorist attacks, I mean, THE WORLD WILL EXPLODE.

What on earth does my walking on the grass have to do with the Prime Minister? I don't go up to him when he's saying his speeches and tell him to stop, because, you know, I'm walking on the grass right now, okay? so just go do your speeching somewhere else, this is my private grass-time. I do not do this. I am a reasonable human being. I appreciate that some people have to make long speeches and some people have to walk on the grass, and some people sometimes have to get toilet paper very badly and don't have time to trail behind 10 billion people gawking at exhibition boards about cockroaches and Dengue Fever - How Does It Affect Me?

I am sure that the Prime Minister would have thought it unreasonable too. I do not like these strange rules that crop up near important people, as if they are so easily offended. They're just people!

Now, for some comic relief.

Carrying too many things at Boon Lay

I was strolling (i am starting to detest this work after having had to explain it's meaning repetitively for the past three weeks to my student who keeps forgetting!) along the platform towards the vague direction of the escalator (where people were already amassing in an alarming bottleneck fashion), absorbed in reading about Sylvia Plath's lovelife (her journals are boggling me more and more; what? she was a normal person too? what?) when suddenly i heard a sound and i turned my heard right and oh dear, there's a man sitting on the mrt floor.

He's sitting there holding the mrt pole with one slightly limp looking hand, sitting there in a crumpled sort of way that is very sad and very distressing. He looks at all of us common people, cramming ourselves together to get down the escalator in case the unbearable happens and we are forced to take the staircase. OH NO! And then all of a sudden, he speaks, he says "F*** it! All you people!" I look around, slightly shocked and see all these people staring at him, and they stare and stare until the escalator carries them too far away to stare anymore. Goodness, no wonder he hates us.

I come out into the interchange and i'm faced again with all these staring people. Most of the time i dress nice for school, but tonight i was in my grubby shirt and sleeping shorts, not having the energy to change out before i left, and still they stared. You just can't win these people! I actually get very angry, i think i was an ah beng in a previous life, of the Growing Up sort, turned-up collars and sideburns, beating people up for staring at them. The staring really makes me very angry (!!!)

Happy 13th of January!

Goffi (My Ex-boss): My wife bought me weighing scales for christmas.
Friend: Yeah I know. She said she wanted to get you something that could go from 0 to 110 in under 2 seconds.

Today I feel a little dead inside. I'm not sure exactly why. It could be the combination of milo and pokka lemon tea for breakfast. Or it could be something else.

I don't understand why the NEL mrt line couldnt just hire a real old person for their "Safety on Escalators" poster campaign. There's plenty of poor/homeless old people you could rope in who'd be happy for the extra buck. Wouldn't it be so much easier than hiring a young person, and then giving them atrocious make-up and a contrived hunch to make them look old? And what's with the porcupine/multi-coloured hair of the supposed NEL staff assisting the said fake-old-lady down the escalator? As if the NEL interviewer would even let you into his office if you turned up for your job interview like that.