So Fuck You, You Can Go Cry Me An Ocean

[Save Rock And Roll – Fall Out Boy ft Elton John]

I’m mostly going to bitch about the episode of Glee where they commemorated Finn/Cory, and also catch up on my life. (I have to write these little intro excepts because Tumblr cuts it off pretty fast and I don’t know how to fix it.)

First, the Glee rant. For those of you somehow not in the know, the actor for the main role of Finn Hudson, Cory Monteith, passed away during July from a drug OD. He was struggling with drugs all his grown life, so it wasn’t exactly completely out of the blue, although he was supposed to have gotten better from the rehab stint he did a month prior. And also a quick disclaimer: I understand there are some strong and loyal Glee fans out there and since I’m going to be tagging this post, they might come across it. I want to make this clear: I mean no disrespect to him, to his work, or to his legacy. You’ll see that my rant is mostly about how the show treated the tribute to him, but some may overlap into sensitive areas.

The tribute episode for him, titled “The Quarterback“, mostly depicted a period of time after Finn’s death, where actors from the previous seasons as well as the current season paid him tribute through each of their storylines and song. It showcased the grief experienced by Finn’s mom, his stepdad Burt and his step-brother/co-Directioner Kurt; Puck his best friend from high school; Santana, the chick who he lost his virginity to and who was horrible to him most of the time; Mercedes who was just his friend but I think the actress was probably really close to Cory in real life, so she got her own song; Will, the teacher; Sue Sylvester, who actually had a really touching and out-of-character scene over him, which I again suspect came as a result of Jane Lynch being very close to Cory; and of course Rachel, aka Lea Michele, aka Cory’s real life girlfriend/fiance or howeverย they were. Then, of course, everyone else were also featured crying and etc.

The entire episode, I felt, was a way for each cast member to properly say goodbye to Cory in a place where Cory meant a lot. And in that, it was very good. The emotions were extremely raw, and I even overlooked the bad lip syncing done when Rachel did her solo, because it was obvious that Lea was breaking down, and that was real. For the same reasons, I overlooked Sue’s huge character discrepancy because I know from interviews that Jane Lynch respected and loved Cory a lot, and of course she wanted a way to say goodbye properly on screen. For the most part, I think that all the monologues were either well structured, or at least forgiveably deviant. But, I had a problem with the story for the episode.

Because, see, Glee is a show about issues. It’s a musical dramedy, which tackles all and almost every hot button issue that comes around, which may be relevant to the target demography (teens and young adults). They had homosexual relationships, bullying, suicide attempts, trans-gender, divorce, adultery, teen pregnancy, hell they even had a school shooting. So when the episode started with Kurt’s voice over saying that Finn had already died, and that they did not want to go into the ‘how’ despite so many people asking, I was extremely annoyed.

Yes, this was a clear reflection of the real-life situation where all the tabloids wanted to talk about was that Cory died from OD, and how tragic it all is, when all they want is some privacy for the family. But in the show, in the story continuation, why couldn’t they address the OD? How is drug use and abuse not a common issue among the demography? There are so many ways which the OD could have been written into the episode without evening changing much of the script, and they really could have hit home the impact of an OD for some of the audience.

They could have easily had Puck feel extreme guilt that he didn’t look out for Finn at a party, where he OD’d. The survivor’s guilt storyline is almost identical to the real one that happened. It would have been a matter of a few extra words to put in Puck saying something like, “I was the screw up, not him. So why am I still walking around?”

Will could have gone through self-blame, thinking that he wasn’t father enough to Finn, and didn’t give him enough guidance, only to realize in the end that he did all he could, and ultimately Finn made a bad, fatal choice.

They could have easily had either Kurt or Rachel go through the stages of extreme anger at Finn for having done something so dumb, and died from it, and finally succumb to the real grief that is in their hearts, but they didn’t. They had a chance to show kids who may be experimenting dangerously with drugs that it could end horribly and hurt everyone around them, but they didn’t. They didn’t even so much as put a whiff of it. We don’t even know if Finn died from an accident or foul play.

And, I understand it was out of respect to Cory that they didn’t talk about the dark side of his life. I understand, most likely, that FOX probably didn’t let it happen, or the producers were worried that an episode might glorify drug use and ODing, and make matters worse. But I just feel like, with so many other teen after-school specials having dealt with the topic, that they definitely could have done something about it. It was a missed opportunity to take a tragic death and bring some good into it.

Alright, that’s it for the Glee rant.

Recently, I’ve been working a lot. The new manager has been very tough on everyone, but he has also trained me up in a lot of areas. I am now moderately confident in my coffee skills, and with more practise I’m sure I’ll be rather competent. I also got a new phone, the Sony Xperia Z1, and of course I ran it under the tap because the motherfucker is waterproof. I’m finalizing the steps to studying next year, and now I’m just waiting for summer to properly roll around so I can wear the new sunglasses I got from ASOS.

I’ve also been playing a lot of Phoenix Wright instead of Pokemon, and it’s quite gripping so far.

That’s all for now. I think I should find aย theme for this blog but I feel like that’s not really my thing. Maybe the theme for my blog could be themes.

Alex.

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Undercooked sausages

Last night I went to Brendan’s new house with Amelia to keep him company while his parents hold a BBQ party where all the kids are younger.

Originally, the plan was to go wingman for him, because we thought there might be some daughters around his age for him to prey-uh…meet.

But alas, the closest we could get to were 2 14-year old male cousins. So, as far as winging went, Mela and I couldn’t do much.

Before we went to Brendan’s, we dropped by Ser-‘s house for to pick up some of Amelia’s stuff. Ser- was watching Sense and Sensibility but British shows put me to sleep, so we started watching Vampire Diaries. Because, yeah. In the end, we realized we couldn’t stay long, so I went through the episodes trying to determine for how long the show started with “For over a century I have lived in secret”. We found: Season 2 Episode 9 was when they stopped.

Mela and I missed the bus, so we waited 40 minutes for the next one. I had a headache, so we went to the Maccas for some Sprite and a chat.

Brendan’s new house is a few dozen times more amazing than his previous house – and his previous house was actually incredibly good for parties. The new house had one of those staircases which would perfectly suit Brendan’s needs to come sweeping downstairs in his prom dress. His bedroom is also much bigger and brighter – but he needs a proper bed. Also, better and bigger kitchen, an area just waiting for a pool table to be installed, and a really well designed entertainment area in the backyard. The only downside is, it now takes me over an hour to get to his place via bus.

His family, all from South Africa, had a South African BBQ, and despite one sausage being slightly undercooked – the one I ate – the rest was ASTOUNDING. One of the sausages, whose name I forgot, but it was a South African style, had a very intriguing mix of spice, and a firm texture, and I regret not eating more of it.

We were watching Shrek and Wall-E, and realized that Brendan could quote about 75% of Shrek with amazing accuracy. I suppose 4 years ago that would have been amazing, but I don’t know, just not as cool anymore. We also watched Wall-E on mute, which was fine because Wall-E isn’t a movie that you really need too much dialogue to, so we made up our own sound effects.

We also watched Supernatural on the computer after kicking his little cousins off. Amelia wasn’t as scared as we thought she’d be, so perhaps she can handle some mild horror in movies after all. Not that last night’s episode was any scary.

Spent the rest of the night hanging out in Brendan’s bedroom, and then got dropped off at Amelia’s house, where my parents picked me up.

Can’t wait for Brendan’s own housewarming/birthday party. Maybe I should try to organize games like I did last year.

Alex.

Madness? THIS. IS. PLAYSCHOOL!

I wrote a REALLY long post in my Uni blog today. (The title was “There’s a bear in there, and it disapproves”)

Without going into risky waters of likening anything to pedobear, I will clarify that yes, I am making a Playschool reference.

I was on the phone with a friend who is still in Yr 12 this year, and in the process of our conversation I mentioned that I actually used to watch Playschool up until I was 17. You know, when you’re reading a book in the living room and complete silence unnerves you (at least, it unnerves me) so you turn on the TV just for the sound. I used to do this during my school holidays, when my parents weren’t home.

In those days, we only had ABC, Seven, Nine, Ten, SBS and that other channel with the fish swimming back and forth for 5 hours each day. During the day, the only shows on the commercial channels were old-grandma shows, like Days of Our Lives (which I did end up watching during a period of time when I stayed home cos I was feeling a bit feverish and thought I had the Swine Flu but that’s another story), or those boring fishing shows for stay-at-home dads. I was a teenage girl. Those shows not only FAILED to capture my attention, they actively DESTROYED my SOUL.

SBS was usually showing a Russian news anchor firing off rapid speech, and for a while I thought he was recounting a particularly distasteful rampage of a rapist, he sounded that angry, but then the story turned out to be some old lady turning 90. (A bit of racist stereotype there. BY THE WAY, I totally got this off the Simpsons. I searched but can’t find the video clip to show you.)

So I was left with ABC. Remember, I had no amazing new choices like GO! or Seven2, or SevenMate for TV shows I actually like, and there weren’t two other ABC channels where I can watch more Arthur (which, by the way, is still awesome).

So, while reading my book, I would have ABC running in the background. As you would, you start to recognise all the shows, and you start sort of having this guilty pleasure in putting down your book when the familiar “There’s a bear in there” comes on.

I admitted to my friend on the phone, who is Yr 12, about to turn 18 and way too cool, that when I was in Yr 10, and I was watching one of the episodes of Playschool (my favorite playmate was Karen, the only Asian chick. Dude. She clearly was better) I actually learned, from Playschool, that avocadoes grew on trees. I had no idea before that. I didn’t know WHERE they came from but I didn’t think it was trees. So there I was, 16 going on 17, doing a VE&T course at Swineburne outside of my school hours, and I learn from PLAYSCHOOL.

When she heard this, my awesomely-cool friend (who we’ll name Brenda, cos that’s totally not her name or anything) started laughing hysterically. She was actually having difficulties stopping, and so I sat there for about 5 minutes while she wheezed with laughter at the other end. When she finally decided to breathe again, she clarified, “YOU learned from PLAYSCHOOL when you were SIXTEEN!?”

And so, 8 paragraphs in, I finally get to the point of this post.

I have spent the past…hmm let’s see…probably since Yr 6 I have been laboriously building an image of myself. Admittably, in Yr 9 when I changed schools, I threw away most of my work and tried to start anew. Still, the point is that, as a young adolescent, I spent quite a lot of time creating this certain image of myself.

And this included the stuff I bought and consumed. I started caring about my hair a lot more when my parents finally let me go to an actual hairdressers, and I cared about my clothes (though still not as much as most girls my age) near the end of Yr 9. I especially started caring about my media image (and this media I mean by internet and technology gadgets etc) by Yr 10, when it became apparent to me that my goals in life involved the Media heavily.

I deleted my old blog on Xanga (which looked great, but had horrid spelling and grammar and it was full of me bitching), and started one on WordPress after going to a Journalism Convention thing. I deleted that WordPress as well, but not because it was horrible like Xanga. You don’t need to know why. I got a new WordPress in Yr 11, and has kept that since (yes, that’s the WordPress that this appears in as well).

I held of getting Facebook for a while, because it felt like it was giving too much power to other people to mold what I appear to them – they comment, they tag, they like – but, in the end, for communications’ sake (and because everyone else was doing it) I got one.

I didnt hesitate in getting Twitter, because that, I felt, was me in power. On my profile, you only see what I posted. I may not have many followers, but it wasn’t like the follower count was at 0.

Finally, I got Tumblr. I got it on the basis that I felt my WordPress wasn’t pictorial enough, and I wanted more pictures. Tumblr gave me the power to follow people with similar tastes to me, and for me to repost what I like. This action of reposting what I like shows to people who subsequently follow ME what kind of person I am.

Brenda was a friend I’d met on Tumblr through mutual friends. The image she received of me initially was a sarcastic and cynical one I have on my Tumblr account. She told me that she thought I was rather “snarky” on Tumblr, because I wasn’t hesitant in shooting anyone down, and I wrote captions that were borderline rude.

She added me on Facebook, which didn’t change her opinion that much. I linked both my Twitter and Tumblr to Facebook, so whatever public image I create on Tumblr and on Twitter, I have to maintain it on Facebook.

But then she added me on MSN. MSN is definitely much more private than Facebook, Tumblr or Twitter. I am more like my physical presence on MSN. And it was there that she saw I was different.

Still, I kept a certain image of myself on MSN, as I do in every day life. I was vocal about how much I love TV shows like NCIS, Glee, HIMYM etc, and I wasn’t shy to admit I love Pokemon – anywhere. But one thing that I do not admit too vocally was my tendency towards children’s shows (Arthur doesn’t count). I like watching them to see what they consider approrpiriate codes to present to children, and also because it’s kind of funny to see grown adults play with dolls.

So when Brenda regained her regular breathing pattern, I realized that the image that I’d created had been slightly shattered by the fact that I apparently do something that goes AGAINST the ideology I created about myself. No matter what I said to her, I will always have the label of “Playschool lover” on my forehead.

I’m saying this out loud now, not only because it goes with the topic of branding through what we consume, but also because I don’t see how watching Playschool makes me a loser. It’s all subjective, right? I personally don’t get why people watch the Kardashians show, or that show with Snooki in it. I used to love the Idol and X Factor shows, but I have began to see them as contrived and fake. Playschool is purposefully fake, it’s purposefully staged, but I don’t see any underhanded influencing of the audience (yes, they promote mostly a heterosexual nuclear family, but I honestly don’t see any positives in confusing really little kids with the gay-rights thing. Teaching kids about gay-rights can come a bit later in life, and of course is solely dependent on their own parents).

I’m sorry for such a long post, but I really tried to not use big complicated words because I hate reading them too.

Alex.

In other news, and this I swear was not a request…haha okay it was a teeny bit a request but I’m more than glad to do it:

I think I’m a decent singer, but no way I have enough guts to lead sing in a band. My friend JAYMEE, however, has the guts. And, thankfully for her, the skills to back those guts up.

Check out her YouTube account: MyNameIsJaymeeNotAmy, and below is one of her videos. (And, no, I’m not running ads or plugs now, she asked me to and I think she deserves it. If I don’t know you and you randomly ask me to plug you, um, no.)

Check out her wild emotional hand gestures and her soulful eye closing!

Alex.

We Started At Zero

In the past month or so, more than 4 youths in America killed themselves because they were bullied at school for being gay.

This is Ellen Degeneres’ message regarding the matter. I’ll let you watch this first.

When I heard that the youngest of the boys were 13, I felt that stabbing pain of heartbreak – 13!

The oldest of the boys were younger than me.

When I read the news article, I actually sat there, shocked, for a few solid minutes. I could only stare at the faces of the boys, smiling back at me. I tried looking for any sadness in their eyes, and shadow in the curve of their smiles, and I couldn’t see any. These boys who, when the shutter clicked, had so much happiness, had been pushed to end their own lives to escape from the teasing. And for what? For being exactly who they are, and liking people that they naturally are attracted to.

When I was 13, I was in my first year of high school. My worst problem was that my closest friends in primary school all went to different high schools from me – I had to make new friends. And I did make new friends.

The THOUGHT of killing myself – or even HURTING myself – because I’m upset, didn’t even occur to me at that age.

Being different to other people is hard, but sometimes it’s easy to change it, even if it makes you a bit upset. The skill of fitting in is crucial in the early years of teenage-hood, I won’t even sugar coat it, I did it, you did it, I know that everyone did it at times. Maybe you’ll even realize that changing yourself a little to fit in actually pushed you onto a path you feel better with – or led you to that path, whatever. I know that I really wanted to make friends with Dani, so when she recommended music, I listened to them (oh, Dani, don’t see any less of me). It was a good thing that I did that, because I ended up loving the music in my own right.

However, there are things you just can’t change. You can try to deny it, but there is no way you can change it. Things like being attracted to people who are the same sex.

So, there you are, being very different to people around you, and you can’t change it. You’re not at the age where saying “fuck it, I am who I am” does anything. At these times, having at least someone on your side is crucial. The sad part is, and I know what this feels like, with things like being gay or bi, you actually feel like there is no one who would really be on your side. Even your closest friend might turn their back on you in your imagination of how events might go.

Even if you are brave enough to tell someone, then it becomes that THING where it needs to be kept secret, because you just KNOW there is gonna be an asshat out there who would make your life a living hell if they found out.

For these boys, the asshats found out.

I’m pretty sure this is the first time I made a direct reference to it here, but yeah, I am bi. I know quite a few of you will probably already know this, or guessed it by implication, but this time it’s written down here. (By the way, if you know me or my parents personally, can you please not tell them? Both of them are rather homophobic and I really am not ready to tell them yet. Don’t be that asshat and screw my life up.)

I am incredibly lucky. From the first person that I had the courage to tell, and all the subsequent people after that, all of them have been fine with it. I wouldn’t say that they’ve all embraced it with open arms, but I haven’t lost any friends over it. I won’t kid myself – there are very likely people who have sad bad things about me behind my back, and I’ve had a few say un-nice things to my face, but I have enough love from all my friends to help me pass that. And that’s why I say I am incredibly lucky. I would be count myself blessed if my parents could accept it too, but I’m not looking for miracles ha.

I honestly feel the utmost sympathy for anyone who is suffering because they don’t feel that luck and love that they need. I would be willing to talk to anyone who needs a pair of ears to receive their problems. But I wish I didn’t have to say that – I wish that kids don’t need a complete stranger’s support to be okay everyday, that if they need someone to help them, they can do what I get to do, and call up a friend to unload onto them.

It’s just plain wrong that these boys felt like they didn’t have a single one of these friends to talk to.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with them, so why were they made to feel like they had to end their lives?

May their souls rest in peace in, if they so believed, heaven. Yes, because even if I am not religious, I don’t think that an all-loving God would bar a 13 year old boy from having eternal peace.

If you’re feeling upset about something, please tell someone. People have a habit of surprising you in the amount they can care.

Alex.

VIP

First off, let me be clear. This is NOT Alex but Josh as a VIP guest blogger ^^ Alex made me promise not to screw around in her account so I guess the best I can do is some self-ego boosting. Pretty sad eh.

So everyone’s been wanting to know what EXACTLY happened in steamy, cramped depths of the Bass Lounge on Saturday night. However, the main subject in this story is extremely embarrassed by her actions, so for her sake, I will be using the pseudonym ‘Anna’. K-. This pseudonym may or may not be her actual name.

So for our…’camp’, we decided to hit the clubs on Saturday night. Using Jen ‘Ballsy’ N-‘s house as a base camp, the delegation of happy, albeit pretty clueless clubbers comprising of Annie, Anna and her best friend Clara along with myself, finally chose to grace ‘Saturday nights at Bass Lounge’ with our presence despite not knowing how to even get there. We had a few pre-drinks, which were just a couple of Vodka Cruisers, nothing serious, whilst engaging in a game of ‘Guess the Korean Song!’ which pretty much rendered Lex twitching and convulsing on the couch in pain.

‘Anna’s Drink Count: 2 bottles of cruisers.

After a few games of pool at Strike, we made a long trek up to Bass Lounge, located in the upper reaches of China Town. At this point, Anna (or should I say, ‘Anna’) seemed completely fine. We met up with Doug ‘Wherearemymarks’ T- and his friend Harold, and this random guy from Vancouver that Doug had just randomly picked up from a random bar. By me saying ‘random guy’, means I’ve forgotten his name -.- Whilst waiting for entrance, Annie and I sat ‘Anna’ down for a lecture about not approaching random strangers, not accepting random drinks from strangers and basically not picking up random things and putting them into her mouth. She nodded and promised she wouldn’t. We believed her. We also made an agreement between the 7 of us to stick together, no matter what, as it would be all too easy to lose each other once inside. After all, you would likely be prone to losing ‘Anna’ in her own bedroom.

We finally gained entrance into the club after some hardcore string pulling, and instantly, we could hear the thumping bass of the music emanating from the dance floor. Even I couldn’t help but smile at the infectious rhythm and beat. We decided to open the night with a tequila shot each (which, by the way, was freaking expensive). By now, ‘Anna’ was looking pretty happy, though she was looking so even before the drink. Pretty soon, we were out on the floor, dancing away and having a good time. Doug and Harold were pretty good company, though the Vancouver guy was a tad awkward.

Anna’s Drink Count: 2 vodka cruisers, one tequila shot

HOWEVER, it wasn’t long before the first disaster struck. WE LOST ANNA. SOMEHOW. For a space of 5-10 minutes, we could find NO trace of Anna, and naturally, we all panicked. If anyone else was lost, we wouldn’t have worried so much, but ‘Anna’ being ‘Anna’…she’d be the LAST person you’d want to lose in an unfamiliar place filled with unfamiliar people. Eventually, our search & rescue team randomly bumped into her. And instantly, we noticed something was wrong.

She seemed out of it in a very high way. She didn’t respond to questions (in fact, didn’t talk at all), seemed completely disconnected, and danced in a more…’out there’ way than you’d expect from a normally pretty conservative and shy girl. Mind you, she was a very good dancer, and she instantly attracted a lot of male attention. She also started to develop a strange affinity with my arm – she repeatedly clutched onto it, grabbed them to wrap around her waist, as well as hugging me and all kinds of stuff that was completely out of character. However, the most worrying thing was, she kept wanting to walk away from us, even though she didn’t seem to have a specific destination in mind. Every few moments, someone had to lasso her back into the group, and it became pretty clear she wasn’t really getting the concept of ‘sticking together’.

After about an hour of this, we decided that possibly, the tequila shots were getting to her, and it WAS hot in there, so we decided to get some water into her and flush out any alcohol in there, as well as getting her fluid levels back up. However, when she saw the proffered glass of water, she merely giggle uncontrollably at it and refused to drink. It took quite a bit of persuasion, and eventually she got about half a glass down, which made no difference.

After being back on the floor established the drifting away pattern again, we decided that fresh air was what she needed, so Annie, Clara and I dragged her in front of this giant fan in the corner of the club and stood her in front of it. It didn’t help. In fact, it may have made things even worse for her, because now she had this giant fan effect and she started to act as if she were in one of those Pantene shampoo ads, with her long, silky smooth, strong black hair billowing out in a halo around her face. She stayed like that for about half-an-hour before we realised that it clearly wasn’t doing the trick. It wasn’t just air she needed; she needed to get out of the music.

So Doug and I literally dragged her out, with Annie, Clara, Harold and the Vancouver dude forming the vanguard. Doug pulled her left arm from the front, whilst I latched onto the other from behind. We took a ‘Smoking Break’ ticket and pulled her onto the ledges outside, taking care to move her away from the other hordes of smokers. Even outside, she was trouble. First, she refused to sit down, so I had to literally carry and lift her onto the ledge. Once there, she complained about the smokers, refused to let Doug smoke and destroyed his self-esteem as well as lashing out at him with stillettoed feet. However, on the BRIGHT side, she was talking again. We gave her math questions, asked for names, made her follow our fingers with her eyes – on the whole, she seemed fine in the cognitive department. She just wanted to keep dancing.

It was during this break, a disturbing piece of information surfaced. Annie didn’t believe that 1 tequila shot would mess Anna up so much for so long, at which Anna interjected with, ‘No I didn’t have one! I had 3!’

It was quickly ascertained that she couldn’t remember what she had drunk, but she definitely wasn’t including the water we’d given her earlier. So basically, somewhere along the lines, she’d picked up another 2 unidentified drinks. Now THAT scared us.

Anna’s Drink Count: 2 Vodka Cruisers, 1 tequila shot, ??

The Vancouver dude and Annie ran a quick errand and bought her a bottle of water, which, again, the stubborn girl refused to drink. I had to literally FEED her the water, holding the bottle up to her lips and tilting her head back manually – she seemed oddly submissive about that though, and managed to down about half a bottle, which was better than nothing. After a long break, during which ‘Anna’ promised she’d behave herself even though she didn’t think she had done anything ‘crazy’, we took her back in.

For the 2nd half of the night, she was…better. Though that may have been because we took extra persuasions; either me or Annie held onto her waist/hand while she danced, or the whole group would just surround her and box her in while she danced obliviously in the center. Once, when I had been left alone with her, I still had to relocate her 6 times in 5 minutes because she was attracting too much attention. The thing is, she would continuously dance up to other guys without realising it, but when guys danced on her, she’d recoil in disgust.

At 3am, we all decided to call it a night. Annie was exhausted, I had no voice left. Hungry, thirsty and tired, we decided on a Macca’s run for some food and drink before hitting a taxi home. On the way there Anna suddenly commented, ‘What happened?’

Our instant reaction was, ‘…WHAT!?’

She had already forgotten everything that had happened up to, and including the break. Forgotten. Clean. To add insult to injury, she refused to believe what we told her.

Up until now, she still doesn’t remember what happened. She also doesn’t remember what the unidentified drinks were but we eventually figured out they were gin and tonics, which she mistook as water, from a sleaze which she mistook as a bartender -.- Gin and Tonics aren’t exactly weak, especially for a person such as Anna, who’s tolerance is dangerously low.

Anyway, she woke up with a killer headache the next morning.

And that’s pretty much what happened. Thank you to everyone, Doug especially for handling the situation very smoothly. If we think about it, things could have gotten a lot, lot more worse. In the meantime, Anna’s not going clubbing for a while.

-Josh

xx

To be in Love…or not to be?

For the last 2 weeks in Chinese school we’d been doing practises for our upcoming SAC which is the oral. In the oral we’re meant to persuade our parents (as performed by our teacher) to allow us to do a certain something.

(By the way, I know I said I’d write like Dom for this blog. I thought about it. I’d rather stay sane.)

This week, my partner and myself are to perform “Should teenagers date in high school?”

And the really depressing part was, as I was preparing for it (I didn’t get far. I have Chinese school this afternoon and I still don’t know what I’m saying) I realize I can’t actually think of 5 good logical reasons why teenagers SHOULD date in high school because actually, there aren’t that many solid arguments.

So far, I have:

You can help each other with homework (easily debunkable)

He can keep you safe (assuming the oral is performed by a girl which I am. Oh wait I just read that again. Ha)

It is a part of social life that everyone has to experience

All my friends are doing it

But the thing is, I have a strong conviction that dating isn’t necessarily BAD in high school. I mean if it makes you happy, and you’re responsible enough to be…well responsible, then I don’t see the problem. But of course if you get right down to it, there are a million reasons for parents to say no and very little for them to say yes.

Anyway, wish me luck for my presentation. It’s nothing official so I don’t really care but, still, I don’t want to fuck up either.

Alex.