let lemons be angry

(no excuses today!)

Wow. Two wonderful busy days out of a whole week of wonderful days. I've been having nightmarish dreams involving me and guns and abandoned houses, but you can't tell, can you.

Yesterday was one of the busiest busiest days ever. Tuition with cindy at ten--i'm moving on to english too, making me quite the indispensable tutor, i like to think. Haha. After which, a quick christmas shopping spree for indispensable people. Then it was off to rotary family service centre for a christmas craft workshop for the kids. The clementi kids seem richer somewhat, and technically more well-behaved than the lakeside kids, but there was something about the lakeside kids that i liked. Despite their sweatiness and their rough rowdiness, they were hungry for something. Love? Then i hopped over to debbie's house where she got ready for our primary school reunion (oh behold the strange words).

6A'98, the class that was divided by a petty caste system, with more tension than a party full of girls who uncannily picked the same dress. I didn't go for a single reunion in the four years since we parted. I didn't cry on the last day of school. Those who cried, i thought hypocritical. They never liked us anyway, so what were the tears for? And i almost didn't turn up for last night's reunion either. Even on the escalator ride up to pizza hut, i was tempted to run back down and pon yet again. But i didn't. And i'm glad i didn't. It was surprisingly fun. The higher caste wasn't there, and all of us rejects/odds/ends/rebels(me) found that we could have gotten along long ago, if we'd tried one another out. The comforting thing about primary school friends is that no matter how you've all turned out, for the better or for the worse, with whatever style you've grown into, with whatever new history you've created for yourself in the years that have passed, you always have your childhood to fall back on, that common bond that time can't touch. We were seventeen-year-olds laughing about silly things that no-one but us can laugh about. For all the stories i've heard about some of the people sitting there last night, during those hours we were nothing more than the kids we were years ago, when recess-time soccer and detective games were the world to us. I thought that it'd be an evening of catching-up, repeating what subjects and ccas we were committed to and so on, but i'd underestimated us. We poured out memory after funny memory and took turns being embarrassed. Everything was worth laughing at, even those massive fights and quarrels that had once made me cry, and those politics that had strangled my schooldays. Time has that magic. I guess we've all grown up, and now we see the things of importance. And we see that being friends now, even though we weren't really friends years ago, is important. Maybe after messing up our secondary school years, we long for those days when our troubles and mistakes can be hardly counted real troubles.

Today was dye-dharma's-hair day. Probably the last time i'll ever get to see her. I was almost in tears writing her goodbye letter. She came over and got her hair streaked, making her pretty head even prettier. I'd be furiously jealous of her but there are too many other feelings that drown out jealousy, like love, and how i already miss her. I've never ever seen dharma sad. She's a big reason why 1d is the happy class that it is. I hugged her and called her a stupid girl, horrible, and heartless. Cold and evil.