231 - Forgetting familiar faces

Eleven days ago, my mother flew from Hong Kong to come visit me here in the UK for her Chinese New Year holiday off work. We spent half the time in Canterbury, where my university is located, and the rest of the time in Edinburgh, the Scottish Highlands and Londontown. Before the 10th of February, I hadn't seen her for more than 4.5 months, and to be honest, I had sort of forgotten what she looked like in person. Right now, her physical appearance is fresh in my mind as I only saw her off at Heathrow airport last night, but it'll be another four-and-a-half months before I see her again, and I know I will gradually begin to forget her semblance again until the day I embark on that 16-hour journey finally.

Of course we have all this technology that allows us to talk to each other and see each other with the click of a button or two. But it's just not the same, if you get what I'm saying. This experience of moving away from my home in Hong Kong, to a place where I have to pretty much make it on my own in all aspects of my life, scares the living crap out of me all the time, but it has really shown me what fears, discomforts, and individual strength can be brought about inside me by something as simple as geographical distance.

I do have two or three close friends staying here in the UK, who I've known for a long, long time. The more I thought about it on the train back to university from London, the more I realized that I actually forget people's faces and voices very easily with prolonged absence. There are actually many people in my life that I have forgotten the faces of, and the mere voices of. Sure, I know where they go to university now, and sure I hear things about what they're doing. Sure, I talk to them every now and then, and sure we play games online together, and we look at each other's photos, and it's pretty much like spending time together in the flesh...

...but it's not. There really is a difference, one I cannot find the words to explain adequately. It means something to be in one another's physical presence. It means something to hear the sound of their voices, and their distinctive laughs. And it means something to see each other's expressions, to feed off each other's gestural and facial reactions, to see each other's 'thinking face', or 'eating face', or 'waiting-to-cross-the-street face', to walk side-by-side, and to hug and kiss, and hold hands, or interlock elbows, as you're walking.

I miss home so much. And the familiarity of people's faces and the geography of Hong Kong is probably what gets to me the most.

Well... except the food perhaps.

Yeah...

Food definitely trumps the faces... and everything else.

211 - Saying I have no friends

I'm going to try really hard not to sound boastful or defensive here (because I really hate people who talk about their social life like that).

I don't know if anyone's ever accused you of being a loner or companionless before, but recently, I discovered that someone was going around, spreading the word that I was a complete recluse, alienated from all of society, with zero friends.

I kind of smirked at the screen when my friend was 'reporting' to me this latest piece of gossip.

Sometimes, people are so insecure with themselves, they feel the need to try and put down other people by saying they're unloved, emphasizing how they don't belong, laughing at them for being so eccentric, just to make themselves feel stronger and more powerful, when, in my reality, these people who lurk in the shadows of the community and don't put themselves out there are some of the most loyal, most special and mentally toughest friends a person could have.

I also don't see what anybody would possibly do with that information anyway. Who the Hell gives a damn about whether Michael has or doesn't have any friends anyway?

Is this supposed to make me lonely? Make me feel lonely?

It's funny 'cause I only met this guy recently. He has no idea where I've been or who I've met throughout my life. But I know he reads this blog.

So, I'm going to just tell you, my keen and prattling observer, that after eighteen years in the international community, amongst Hong Kong's population of 6.9mil - chances are, at least one of them is my friend.

Why are you even still talking about stuff like this? Aren't you twenty-one years old?

207 - When people make the world revolve around me

My closest friends will tell you that I hate it when people always ask me how I am and what's up with me. They will tell you that I reckon my mother and my father and the rest of my family do it too often. My friends will tell you that my acquaintances don't know that it annoys me. They will tell you that sometimes even they, themselves, forget that I don't like revealing that much about myself when we're having a conversation. I just find it annoying when people ask me about me too much. If I wanted to talk to them about something, I would talk to them about it, right?

But I really don't blame them for asking about me. They're just expressing their care for me and want updates on my life. I blame myself mostly for this annoyance. I blame me for putting myself into situations that warrant people's attentions - it is a constant struggle to balance: doing what I want in front of others, while also conveying that I would like my own secrets, private life and alone time. My mother knows that struggle all too well with me, my father would drink to that privacy, and my friends would tell you that achieving that balance with me is one of the keys to being my friend. I prefer solving problems myself - unless I can't really help it. That includes sorting out my own time, money, relationships with people, and my own emotions.

So, please, my readers, I must make something very clear. I do not request advisement of any kind on this blog. I am no longer the bad-tempered kid I was a year ago that needs counsel. I don't need advice on how to tackle this problem or that, how to survive the meaningless chat when running into acquaintances or how to keep my chin up when someone ruins my day. Your encouragement is not needed here. Your questions of concern, I will not answer. All the personal stuff is what my other blog is for - in that blog, is where I have my space to be egotistical, and where I would appreciate kind words.

This is for you. To make you laugh, to make you empathize, to make you hit the surface of your desk in agreement and go, "Man, that irritates me, as well!"

I'm asking you, do you hate it too? Don't you hate it too when people make the world revolve around you?

I find it a little bit funny that by asking you that question, it then kind of makes the world revolve around you... and so if you do concur and do hate it too, then I would effectively be doing the very same thing we both hate, in the very same post. Hmm...

188 - When people feel like they can't talk to me

I know it when a person trusts me or doesn't trust me. I can sense it in the way they talk, their body gestures, and the tidbits of their lives they decide to share with me. Honestly, I'll talk to anyone, about anything they want to, but what I cannot stand is a bit too much smalltalk and not enough meaning to the time spent together.

It's easy for me to listen to people, and to say something relevant in return, to learn from others as well as teach something to my correspondent. I don't like it when people don't seem to have this social skill, when people are afraid of opening up themselves, and don't feel I would want to listen.

Truth is, we all like comfortable and honest conversation, and all work together to contribute to society. We're of the same species, in need of food and drink, air, attention and affection. We are all co-dependent, in the same boat, which is why I don't know why there are some people that just don't get the benefit of sharing. And when they don't share, it makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong.

If you never share your thoughts, how am I supposed to know how to respect you or make you feel comfortable with me around? How am I supposed to know what you want? How are we supposed to know what you like to do, what you like to talk about, or where your lines are defined so that we don't cross them? How are we supposed to coexist if you don't start talking to me?

181 - When you're assigned the role of treasurer when you go out to eat

Here's the typical scenario: it's one of your friend's birthdays. The friend chooses a restaurant for everybody to eat in, and then everyone gorges on seventy-five percent of the menu. After desserts, coffees and teas are consumed by the end of the meal, the check comes, and gets passed around, until it lands on the table in front of you, because everyone else is apparently too busy chatting or laughing or picking their teeth to do the adding up. It's up to you to calculate how much each person (except the birthday person, of course) owes to the collective sum of money being charged on the bill.

When dividing by any number greater than four or five, you get difficult amounts of money owed, because the total at the bottom of the check is never a nice number that is easily divisible, or a number that, when divided, can be easily rounded up or down to a pecuniarily manageable figure. There will always be one or two people that do not contribute their part, due to the fact that they ate less than everyone else, or because they simply don't have enough money, and so you must go and seek out people that are generous enough to cover for them, or you just collect whatever money those cheapskates have, then divide the rest of the bill by the number of people left.

Then the birthday person makes a halfhearted attempt to pay, and everybody spends twenty minutes trying to convince him that it's alright, because for one, his birthday is everyone's treat, and second, he/she isn't even allowed to know how much the birthday celebration he/she is responsible for costs. You count the money seventeen times just to make sure it all adds up, only to have a nominated acquaintance count the money once more because she's known to be extremely responsible with her own pocket money. This is then followed by her boyfriend adding it up for a nineteenth time, because apparently, he took up an accounting class at school.

It never adds up, people have underpaid and overpaid and people want some change back. You have to listen to stories about how people have lost their wallets, how people have just signed up for a new debit card, their thoughts on the new design of the $10 bill, and countless other stories. You also have to deal with the asshole who wants to pay for one twenty-third of the bill using his credit card. After the check is settled after what feels like forever, you tiredly rub your forehead and temples with your palms, which to your mistake, leads to your overlooking the event in which two girls in the corner order an apple martini to share, which is then followed by the birthday person's best friend ordering a round of apple-flavored shooters...

Your job as treasurer isn't over yet, but at least there's alcohol on its way.

178 - Running into an acquaintance

"Hey!"
"...Hey."
"How are you, Michael? Long time no see!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm great. You?"
"I'm good. What are you up to nowadays?"
"Oh, nothing much, studying anthro—"
"Right, that's cool, man. I'm actually on my way to the bus stop. Catch up some time, okay?"
"...okay."
"Later, dude!"
"...Bye."

Have you ever had these sorts of conversations?

If you have, it's probably because you ran into an acquaintance. Acquaintances are people whom you met at a distant time in the past and from that point onward, you are obliged by the rules of society to greet or give a nod to that person whenever you see them. It's a friendly gesture that carries with it all of that "common courtesy" poppycock, but if you're asking for my opinion, it's annoyingly pointless.

Chances are you met this person because you were just stuck together in a long queue at the supermarket, or because you shared the same high school, or because some idiotic mutual friend introduced you two at a large gathering, thus coercing you into 'knowing' this person you didn't wish to approach on your own, and from that initial exchange of names onwards, you and your acquaintance tacitly pledge to say 'hi' to each other for the rest of your life whenever you meet in the curiously coincidental lives we lead.

It's a small world, you may have heard. And you will have hundreds of opportunities to engage in these uncomfortable conversations.

Sure, we have known their names and faces for years, and we spend a great deal of time stalking them on Facebook, but to me, if there's nothing important to say, there's no need to say anything at all. This societal rule sucks, and we are people with our own lives to lead; we have things to do and places to be. We do not need to waste our times on these associates if there's nothing of value to be shared.

What do you think about running into old acquaintances?

171 - When people don't understand how I feel about moving to the UK

There's a lot of emotion brewing inside of me as I enter this final week in Hong Kong. There are many things of which I still haven't done, but had originally planned to do, and a lot of people who I will not see before I fly off to England, but wish I could. I can honestly say, though, that I have tried my best to fit in the most important people and the most important things-to-do into my schedule. I don't know how I'm ever going to stop missing this place after I leave, how I will miss the thousands of streets on which I've walked a thousand times, the unique wonderful taste of the food here I love so much, and the beaches, the carparks, the piers, the malls, the parks, the schools, the bowling alleys, the bookstores, the supermarkets and the countless other locations of which I know like the back of my hand, and altogether, integrate, interweave and incorporate with one another in this giant lattice to constitute this familiar city I describe as my place of birth, my living environment, my home.

When other people hear about why I will miss this place so much, they attempt to reassure me by patting me on the back, brushing my shoulder, and telling me that I can always come back home during my holidays, and that I can keep in touch with people online at any time, but what they fail to realize is that those aren't really valid points.

Truth be told, I never want to come back, and I don't want to talk to anyone online.

About 95% of my life consists of my mother, my father and my best friend. I have dinner with my mom, drinks with my dad, and talk on the phone about everything else with my best buddy. I cannot just fly back whenever I want to, and I cannot just make a call to Hong Kong whenever I want to. There are huge costs for such homebound travel, I don't have the money for me to come back anytime.

Additionally, we each have our respective lives to lead. I've tried communicating with all three of them online, and it's just not the way our relationships work. We are all people who move on quickly (for our own reasons) if the circumstances for communication are inconvenient. I believe our correspondence will gradually be reduced to a minimum, and we all will find a way to accept the geographical and emotional separation between us, and the consequences of said distance.

With all my heart, I don't want to ever come back at this point. Ultimately, I believe I've spent too much of my life in one place, and it would be a waste of my life, and a wastage of this Earth, to spend another day here after I finish my course. I know that may sound bizarre, but that's genuinely what I feel.

People ask me, "why do you say you'll miss it then if you hate it so much?"

Have these people not been paying attention?

I don't hate Hong Kong. When did I say that?

And of course, I'll miss it, why wouldn't I miss it?

It's as simple as this: I am very excited and so glad to leave, but I will miss my childhood home nonetheless. I want to go and explore the whole wide world, starting with England, but it's just going to be emotionally difficult to move on, because Hong Kong has been my entire life. Is that so difficult to comprehend, or are my thoughts really that convoluted?

164 - When people don't seem to care that you're working and inconsiderately distract you with phone calls anyway

People keep calling me and texting me, expecting me to call them back or text them back while I'm at work. People still ask me if I'm free on this day, or on that evening, and it's just ridiculously aggravating because I've already told them when I'll be at work and consequently unavailable to talk to them.

The other day, three friends of mine (all female, by the way) were wandering around the restaurant at which I work. They called me four times, and when I finally rushed into the storeroom to pick up their call, they exclaimed, "HEY! WHY DIDN'T YOU PICK UP?!?!"

Fuck.

"OH YEAH, YOU'RE WORKING! SORRY!"

It's a good thing that you're sorry.

"Natalie, Trina and I have been shopping the whole day, and we are SO hungry right now..."

Seriously, you're doing this to me?

"Oh, right, yeah, sorry. Um, may we come over?"

Sure, but on your way, can you please stop by the kitchen and give them an order for fries for table 27?

"Um, where is your restaurant exactly?"

I already told you last night...

"Oh, yeah, just up the road from Cotton On."

Fuck, I'm supposed to make two double espressos...

"Well, Natalie wants to go to 7-11 first, so we'll probably take like fifteen minutes. She just wants..."

..And I still need to change that beer keg...

"Oh, wait, do you guys serve Sprite?"

.......

"Oh, yeah, sorry, sorry, SORRY for bothering you. We're coming."

Thank goodness it's over.

Around ten minutes later, they still haven't shown up, so I sneak into the storeroom to call them again. I find out that they've started making their way home.

Because It's raining, they're getting tired and they can't find my restaurant.

Poor them.

They're hungry, and they're tired.

It's so great that they get to go home to rest and eat.

156 - People who can't dance

Frankly, I'm still learning, but I think I've fooled people enough to make them think that I know how to shake what my momma gave me. Afterall, I've been going drinking and clubbing for a couple of years now, dancing is a vital part of the Get Drunk! package.

Two days ago, I had my graduation ball. It's where we all get dressed up nice and pretty, and there's a big buffet at dinner, then raffle prizes are given out, and last but not least, the lights dim and a DJ puts on some music for us to dance.

I danced for a few seconds, then I sat back down again. My friends came up to me and said, "Go up and dance, man. You belong on the dance floor!"

I replied, "Sorry, but I don't want to dance with the people there that don't."

155 - Rust on the guitar strings

I have one electric guitar and one classical guitar, and they both have rusty strings. It's my fault for neglecting them, placing them in their respective cases, and putting them in the dark corner of my room for the past two years. I remember I loved playing music on those things, but schoolwork, exams and time spent with classmates consumed me, and got in the way of me actually making some music in my spare time.

My best friend was talking to me the other night on the phone, and he was playing the guitar while doing so. It prompted me to take out mine, and I played and played and played 'til the sun came up, 'cause now I have the time and luxury to do so.

And it feels great, to make music. And to record myself on my computer again, to work on my voice, and to try and play better.

It just irks me that these strings are rusty and making my fingers orange. I have to go buy the strings, and change the strings, and that's such a hassle. Damn me, for not taking care of them continually in the past two years. If I had cleaned them and played them regularly, none of this would have happened.

My poor guitars...

149 - Personal insecurity

In my younger years, I used to be unbelievably shy. I simply would not utter a single word to my classmates throughout the school day, because I thought that these other kids were strange beings, people I could not understand. And because I could not understand them, they were people that I deeply feared. (The one permanent emotion of the inferior man is fear - fear of the unknown, the complex, the inexplicable. What he wants above everything else is safety. - Henry Louis Mencken)

It was only until my mother had picked me up from school and whisked me away that I was suddenly capable of human speech. She would meet me at the gate everyday after school, lead the way to the nearest road, and hail a cab. And it was inside this cab, where I instantaneously transformed into the talkative and opinionated person that you, my readers, are presented with today.

I behaved this way at the time because I only trusted my mother, and did not trust these strangers who worked and played alongside me. I also didn't think I was the best at anything (even though, at the time, all we did in class was basic maths, basic English and drawing). I didn't think too highly of my abilities and I did not want others to know my standards. I wasn't confident. I did not have very high self-esteem.

In retrospect, I believe it was because of this lack of confidence in myself and others that I did not have many friends in primary school. In fact, I am still very much like my five-year-old self, and when I go to school these days, I actually find myself distrusting my own and other people's judgements, and that's what usually separates me from the group.

I know several people who experience unease and nervousness each day because they perceive themselves, or others, as inadequate or worthless. There is a very fine line between being insecure but pretending to be okay, and actually being okay. And it's in pretending to be okay that annoys me, because the person I'm talking to is achingly putting on a fake, confident smile, just for me.

So what can that person do, or what can I do?

I like to attack a problem by first eradicating the source of the problem, like hosing down the stove in a kitchen fire. By that analogy, I mean trying to build confidence is the way to achieve a healthy quantity and quality of self-regard (i.e., remove insecurity).

However, how this can be done effectively is beyond me. These people are so insecure about themselves, that they think they aren't capable of anything, and that includes change for the better. They never feel motivated enough to talk more, or talk to one more person, they never feel like they can actually break out of their usual behavioral habits. And so it's just a horrible paradoxical internal bewilderment that exists within us, a bewilderment that is borne of these strange beings who feel insecure, sort of like a sprinkling into our lives of realistic humanoids that are machined to solely experience doubt, shyness, and feelings of being threatened... it's just another one of those vicious cycles.

I hate it, how are you supposed to build a strong relationship with someone that's insecure? Come on, readers, do you hate it too?

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(Do you hate it too? has received a Neno's award, displayed on the right-hand side underneath the Golden Bog Roll. Please check out the link, as I talk about why I love to blog. :D)

144 - Reluctancy to do household chores

Hey guys! Today is my second-last week of school before my study leave begins. The exams start in May, so in less than a month, I'll be writing things down on pieces of paper that will determine my future. So excuse me if I'm not blogging as much. I'll try to make my posts longer in the months of April and May just to compensate, like this one for example. I have a lot of studying to do, but hopefully, I'll be back on Friday once more.

So, I hope everyone is enjoying Eastertime, 'cause I'm going to go indulge in a chocolate egg now. Toodles!

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A couple years back, during one of Hong Kong's hot summer holidays, I rented what is known as a 'holiday house' for a couple of days. There are many holiday houses around Hong Kong, mainly located in more rural areas outside the city, and on the outlying islands of Hong Kong, near beaches, biking trails and hiking routes. These houses are typically furnished with several beds, a TV, a fridge, chairs, tables, a pot, a pan, some eating utensils, and a barbecue pit in front of, or behind the house. What these holiday houses are, are basically houses you can rent for a few days to escape the technology and the pressures of citydom, and to spend time with your family or friends actually having fun the way it was meant to be had (i.e., non-electronically).

Two years ago, thirteen of my friends came along with me to live for four days in a holiday house on 'Cheung Chau' Island. Together, the fourteen of us played Playstation, rode bikes, threw frisbees and balls at each other on the beach, and of course, drank a lot of vodka with cranberry juice and Red Bull. There was one night in which I even started up a barbecue fire and cooked everybody's dinner. It was heaploads of fun... heaploads.

On the last night, however, something really bugged me. They were arguing over who should wash the dishes. Now, for the whole four long days, and three long, sleepless nights, I didn't really care who was picking up for all of us, and cleaning up after us, so long as somebody was doing it. Of course, it was preferable if everybody chipped in to prevent the house from looking too untidy.

I really didn't care who swept the sand off the floor after we all came back with sand in our hair, clothes and shoes, who mopped the floor after we returned from the beach dripping in salty seawater. I didn't care who washed the pot and the pan and the plates after we had pasta on the first night, or who wiped the barbecue forks clean on the second night. I didn't care who went out in the morning to get everybody's breakfast, or who went out in the afternoon to shop for groceries, or who went to the supermarket after dinner to buy dessert, or who went after midnight to restock on junk food.

But the fact of the matter was, I did everything. For the enjoyment of everybody else, I really did everything. I made sure those who needed to leave early knew how to get home, and ensured the safe arrival of those who joined us later. I made sure the floors, the cooking and eating apparatuses, and the barbecue pit were all clean. I cooked dinner for everybody, I went out to buy groceries, to buy breakfast, to buy junk food, to buy drinks, and to buy dessert. I pointed out to people which way the beach was, where to get bikes, where the best place to sit and talk was, where the supermarket was, how to use the shower, and Hell, even where the damn Cheetos were stashed.

And most importantly, I had the key to the house. And that meant I had to follow everyone everywhere so that they had a way back into the house when they got tired.

On the last night, all thirteen of them decided to go out on a walk while I was just about to doze off curled up in my bed. I heard the door close, and I thought to myself, "If I'm the only one who has the key, and I'm asleep, do they all expect me to just wake up to open the door for them later on, after all the work that I did in the past few days for them?"

I had had enough of their slothfulness, so I ran out after them. At first, I was shouting angrily. Then I was shouting hysterically. Then I was crying about how sick and tired I was of cleaning up after them and catering them and letting them have fun. I was simply exhausted.

I have a very good friend with whom I talk to almost every night. It makes me smile when he sends me a message, "brb dishes", or "brb gotta take out the trash". It's admirable and quite a sweet quality for a guy if he's been brought up to do these sorts of things. He'd make a good husband one day.

I washed the dishes tonight after my mother and I had our first homemade meal together in over a year or so. I wash the dishes after every time I cook/bake stuff for myself to eat. I just do it 'cause it's logical... someone has to do it. It might as well be me, right? I mean, I don't see what's so disgusting about doing the dishes. And as for sweeping and mopping the floor, that's easy, and wiping the cabinets and stuff is not that difficult. Picking up the kids' toys doesn't take more than a minute, and doing the laundry is basically throwing clothes into a box and at the press of a button, voilà.

People... People: please do the dishes, even if it's not yours. Do your chores, they don't take long. I don't want to have an emotional breakdown in front of anybody again, and I don't want anyone to suffer from the same situation, because it's quite embarrassing to be crying over dirty dishes.

So, anyway, do you know anyone who hates doing the chores? Don't you hate them too?

141 - People who ask you questions while you're reading

"Anything interesting in the news today?" "What book are you reading?" "Look at Lindsey Lohan on the cover of Michael's magazine, don't you think she's gotten a lot fatter?"

Our examinations are coming up, the final exams I will take in high school. Several subjects are worrying me right now, namely chemistry, physics and mathematics, so currently, I haven't been blogging as much so that I have more time to study.

This week, I've been focusing on building my vocabulary for the English exams, as well as going through my maths textbook, making sure I know how to use every single symbol and equation. I think I've mentioned this before, but to build my vocabulary, I've been reading a book named 'Word Power Made Easy'. It teaches you vocabulary primarily, by pointing out the etymology of a lot of different words, but alongside that, it touches on what is or isn't correct grammar, punctuation and pronunciation. It's a really effective means to attain a better vocabulary in the English language, for me at least.

What irked me at lunch today was when my friends asked me what I was reading. I didn't answer them, because I knew answering them would only attract more inquiries:
"Why are you reading that? Do you think your vocabulary's bad?"
"Where did you buy it?"
"How much was it?"
"What exactly does it teach you?"
"Do you actually learn anything from reading thing?"
"Dude, I haven't read a book in years, besides those we've studied in school. Can you believe that?"
"Isn't that boring?"
"What's the book called?"
"Who's it by?"
"Can I borrow it after you're done with it?"
"Why are you looking at me like that? You look pissed."

Shut up, peeps, I'm trying to read.

134 - People who don't shut up during movies

Sorry, folks. It's been a tiresome week and I've been arriving home at around 10pm every night for the past three nights. Exhausted, your familiar hater naturally goes to sleep. I don't know what else to say. Forgive me.

Today, I was on Facebook and I found a message in my inbox from someone who I used to go to school with a long time ago. He wanted to ask me out to eat dinner, have drinks, catch up, reminisce about the good old days, that sort of thing. I remember our group of friends used to go out to watch movies every Friday. The mall we went to also had an ice-skating rink in it, and I recall that was always a lot of fun before and after seeing a film.

There was one time the class dunce (the one that poured sugar in his mouth) decided to join our group to see a movie. He chose the film for us, a terrible choice in my opinion, as he decided we should watch Bad Boys 2, a bad sequel to an already appawling first movie, starring Will Smith and Martin Lawrence, rated 23% on Rotten Tomatoes.

Anyway, our group all hated the damn movie, but the idiot in our class loved it. Since we all disliked the distasteful car chases and gun shooting, we started chatting and laughing at the back of the cinema...

...and then things got a little out of control. One of my best friends decided to stand on one of the chairs and stick his hands in front of the projector. Watching a dog's silhoutte eating Will Smith's old rusty yellow car was simply hilarious.

And then this guy sitting three rows in front of us, a white man with thin-rimmed glasses, stood up, walked up toward us, and told us to "either shut up or get the Hell out of the cinema".

And so we all got the Hell out of the cinema.

Yeah, I get it. There's nothing more annoying than, say, a young boy that exclaims "COOL!!!!" whenever Batman or Spiderman suddenly appears on the screen, or nothing ruins a movie more than a young girl that screams, or even cries, after there are loud sound effects. I think it's the worst when any grown adult doesn't understand that he/she has to switch their mobile phone off before the movie starts, people who have crappy ringtones, who have no sense of respect for the people around them, and who talk at an unbelievably high decibel.

Yeah, all of that can get pretty irritating. Those dumb teenagers in the back projecting hand-shadows on to the screen deserve to get flogged. I understand where the guy with the thin-rimmed glasses was coming from. I probably would have said the same thing, if I had the same stinking, substandard taste in movies as he did.

131 - When people say they will chip in for a big present, then change their mind

Poor birthday boy. We have so many great ideas for a gift, but the reason behind why any of them are under consideration is because we have a big collective pot of money to afford it with. From the beginning, we said to ourselves that we would chip in to buy an expensive and nice birthday gift, but no, no, at the last minute, people opt out, and say they want to get something by themselves, due to various special circumstances (i.e. lame excuses), leaving those remaining confused as to what to do next, because they really wanted to get something nice, with others that they thought they could count on.

What was the point in going shopping for a couple of days? What was the point in talking all about those great ideas? Jackets and Polo shirts and bags and belts and hoodies... Why did we even bother going out to find something if it all amounted to nothing? Seriously, what a waste of time.

We can't afford any of that without everybody in it together. It just shows you're unreliable, untrustworthy, and inconsiderate. Don't you care about the birthday boy?

Well, no, you don't. He doesn't care about you either.

I guess it was a birthday party fated to be bad, with only a select few of the presents carrying genuine sentiments of friendship, congratulations on turning 18, and best wishes for the future. Just a select few...

127 - When someone invades your privacy

Oh, this post can go in so many directions...

My mother once rummaged through my desk drawer and found a pack of cigarettes that I had hidden in there. She called me up and said she was going to take it because she didn't like me having it. I retorted with: "I didn't take the condoms you hide in your closet, so don't take my cigarettes." And she came back with: "Well, I don't delete your porn off your computer."

Yes, the invasion of privacy. What she said actually infuriated me so much I actually threw my phone on to the floor real hard, which resulted in a shattered phone, and accomplished nothing.

I've read other people's text messages, only because I've had people do it to me. People have abused my trust and gone into my e-mail accounts to look around, and I, too, have guessed a password or two correctly before in my curiosity. There are just so many things that we hide under our beds, in the unknown hidden flaps of our wallets and purses, and, perhaps most interestingly, our heads. Secret entities can come in so many forms: the bottle of rum I occasionally take a sip out of that I placed behind all the other wines and spirits, the diary I locked up and never continued, the tiny notes I have in my friend's pencil case that got passed around in class, the money I'm saving up to spend on parties in the UK slipped in between the pages of a First Aid Guidebook. Everybody hides something, I'm sure.

Very recently, I've talked to someone that means a lot to me, and I haven't spoken to in a while. She really does care about me more than a lot of other people, and I often forget how much she does throughout the years because I rarely see her. The reason we've been avoiding each other, I believe, is because another person, a man, that is close to both of us, will get upset at our interaction. He doesn't like it when things happen behind his back, when things are out of his control.

He has the resources to actually spy on us, and read all my text messages and e-mails, follow me around everywhere I go. That's an invasion of privacy. I would hate it if I found out he's snooping around in my business.

126 - People who are too lazy to pick up the ball

Ever heard of soccer? The sport that the British call 'football'. I call it football because I haven't had a whole lot of experience playing American football, so there's no confusion to me.

But whatever. I went out with three of my friends today to kick a football around. I'm a goalkeeper at heart, although in the past few years, I haven't had much practice playing any role, goalie or otherwise. My frequency of practice is nothing compared to how much I used to practice five or six years ago. I think I'm going to try and do it more often.

Being a goalie has a lot of advantages, chiefly you don't need to run around all the time. Although this is the case, I try to lessen the physical burden of the people sprinting, turning and kicking on the field, and allow them to get a bit of rest by offering to pick the ball up instead, whenever it flies over, or to the side of, the goal (which happens around ninety percent of the time). I do nothing but stand there for the most part anyway, so might as well jog for the ball whenever I can, to get the exercise I intend to get from going to play football in the first place.

Plus, it speeds up the play, the quicker it is, the more fulfilling the session, the more fun we can have, the more kicks we can fit in in a given amount of time.

As the goalie, perhaps it's not in my right to say so, but I hate it when attackers, defenders, centers, the ones on the pitch, don't run for the ball and pick it up. I say it may not be in my right to say so because my role of goalkeeper never requires me to do much running.

The reason I don't really like running on the pitch is because my coordination sucks while I'm running with the ball. I'm the goalkeeper in hockey, netball and football, I prefer going for stationary three-pointers in basketball rather than doing layups, I'm no good at rugby or American football because the passing-while-running thing is just too much for me, and the sports I like tend to be ones in which you don't need to run with the ball, such as tennis, volleyball, and badminton. My favorite activities are those in which you don't run at all, like snooker, bowling and golf. Goalkeeping is the only position I can do okay in when playing football, I'm tallish, have big hands, sharp eyesight, and relatively fast reflexes, and I'm (usually...) not afraid of the ball coming at me.

But as I said, I try to go pick up the ball whenever it flies over my head, or to the side of the goalposts. It's just common courtesy as you're closest to the ball, and it's like... if you don't pick it up, who will?

It's slothful when a player falls to the ground and lies there moping just because his shot went way off, or whenever a person passes it to someone else but doesn't care to continue what he started and run with his teammates all the way 'til they reach nearer to the goal. What is the point in not running, honestly?

If your shot resulted in an utter miss, I mean, go run for the ball, man, you kicked it there. Even if it is in the goalie's convenience to go pick it up, at least, run for it sometimes, or offer to.

And don't say sorry. It's not like an apology makes picking up the ball any less taxing or unenjoyable. Someone has to go get it, and it might as well be you. Sorry doesn't solve anything.

125 - When two people with good intentions come to a disagreement

This is a basic facet of social, interpersonal relationships that I don't understand. How the Hell does this happen? Who would be condemned to the Underworld? The one that meant his/her care less passionately? The one that gave advice or suggestions that didn't work? The one that has an inferior record of performing good deeds throughout his/her life? The one that had a slower reaction and offered help later? Or the one that took less time and effort to think of practical, acceptable solutions?

How is it that this happens? Who's to blame? ...I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

124 - When people pretend to read to avoid interaction with you

I once sat beside a girl who had the amazing ability to reply to my inquisitions while holding in her hand and reading H.R. Wells' War of the Worlds. I, too, have the capability of multitasking. In fact, just today, I was able to have my lunch with a book in my hand. This was a self-help book, in fact, aimed at improving a reader's vocabulary, and upon seeing my book, my classmates asked what it was about.

This prompted about forty minutes of open-minded and open-ended discussion about the intriguing differences between American and British English, the etymologies of those long, difficult words, who and whom, me or I, spoonsful or spoonfuls, and several other difficult grammatical dilemmas. I think my classmates, like me, were enlightened by the chapter of my book I got through today, and they became more aware of some of the improper idiosyncrasies of common English usage today. Isn't that great?

But I digress.

The point of that was, I could read while talking to others and having my lunch. I've seen other people do it, too, anybody can multitask if they're willing to be the social creature that they're meant to be. If you think pretending to read can fool me, sorry, I'm not that gullible. Your eyes aren't moving on the page, you're stealing quick glances at me to see if I'm still there, you're either taking too long or too short of a time to turn the pages, it's obvious you're listening to every single word I say, plus: you look nervous. Transparent as cling-film, you are.

I hate it when people pretend to read, to avoid people because they don't have the guts to be honest, and/or to evade serious, sensitive and/or emotionally difficult conversations.

You say you're sparing my feelings by not having these heart-to-heart talks?

You hurt me everyday by avoiding them. Please tell me what's wrong, before the past few years all effectively amount to nothing.

121 - When someone ruins your day

Today is just one of those days where everything wasn't exactly rosy, but they were good, good enough, and you weren't upset whatsoever. Then comes along the bearer of bad news, the pesky imbecile in class, the old and grumpy grandparents, the idiot that elbowed you hard on the street, or the girl you like who said she can't be with you after you were so sure you were meant for each other, or the mother that said you can't go to study abroad because she can't afford it after you've been so excited for so long, or the best friend who said he doesn't agree with the way you live your life when your dreams are finally being fulfilled.

Why do things ever look like they're gradually looking up, like you've avoided a fall to the ground, or dodged a bullet, only to have the hill steep downwards soon after, to have yourself collapse epically on to the floor, to have the bullet pierce you right through the heart?

I feel this way today, and it feels awful. I've felt this way for about a month now, because I've lost so many things, from a gaming device, through my patience and my best friend, to my appetite and my sleep.

I have lost, and I am lost, but that doesn't mean I wasn't trying hard to keep a smile on my face. He knew I was putting on a brave face, but he didn't care, he thought he'd just ruin my day anyway. I hate it.