When Parents Keep Asking You to Study

You know what holidays are like, don’t you? You’ve definitely been to school, or you might even still be schooling.

Well, what does everyone in school look forward to? (Brace yourself for an overgeneralized stereotypical answer.) Everyone looks forward to the holidays! Spring break, or summer break, or winter break, or semester break, or June holidays, or whatever you call it from wherever you are from.

It’s Spring Break and dhe crowd goes wild!!

Well, I know I love my holidays. But there is a catch.

I study abroad, away from my parents in Malaysia, living on my lonely lonesome in a hostel in Singapore. Holidays carry a special meaning to me. They mean that I get to finally go home.

But home is never what I expect it to be.

Here’s what I expect it to be: Home should feel like those commercial houses near the beach that people rent out to Spring break people to party in, with unlimited wifi, unlimited food, no curfew, no lights out time. Basically, no rules. Do whatever you want.

I’m imagining a getaway like this.

It’s the least I can expect from parents who have not seen their little baby for months, isn’t it?

But noooo, here’s reality:

“Fred get off the laptop.”

“Fred, study.”

“Fred, how come I never see you open a book?”

“Fred, how come you spend the whole day in your room?”

“Fred, when I say get off your laptop, it doesn’t mean you can use your phone.”

“Fred, how about I send you to tuition classes?”

“Fred, go write an essay.”

The nagging never stops.

Frankly, it feels worse here. I rather stay put in my hostel on my lonely lonesome than come back to a hellish home. I feel that my parents has lost their understanding of the concept of ‘holiday.’ They should be sent back to school.

How about you? Were holidays always what you expected it to be? Did you spend your holidays being a complete internet potato or did you go all out with wild parties? Did you enjoy the extra face time with your parents and siblings? Or should your parents be sent back to school as well?

According to Me – Socially Acceptable Hypocrisy

According to me, I am a hypocrite. I discovered this after refusing several times to disclose my blog’s address to friends who asked.

I am a different person when I blog, as compared to the me that my friends all know and love (I presume). My blog is the meditated, critical and brutal version of me. Meditated because I have carefully contemplated what goes into the blog over and over again. I don’t want to raise controversy and draw unwanted attention to myself. The worst thing is for me to go viral and have government authorities hunting me, or to become obliged to make a public apology. But still critical and brutal because I use this blog as an avenue for the thoughts of mine which is in no way suitable for everyday conversation with my friends.

(There are children giggling at the water fountain as I type this. Simply adorable.)

Why am I a different person when I blog?

I think it is because I believe my ‘blog self’ will not be very welcome in society. As every typical teenager, heck, as every typical human being would, I want to be accepted socially. Furthermore, I love being in the company of others. I believe people will shun the other side of me. Your true friends will love you for who you are. Fuck that. True friends are hard to come by, and I need my insecurity fixed pronto. Seeking solace by being part of a crowd is the best solution there is. And the only way to be part of that crowd is, to blend in. Thus, I hop on the bandwagon, assimilating myself by shedding my skin in an unsatisfactory but somewhat necessary trade to wear theirs.

I am content with where I am right now. I enjoy the company of those I am with. Perhaps it is true that it will be much better when I am with other people where I can be my full self without fear of rejection. But that takes time. And I need ‘pronto’ solutions.

So let the time come when it comes, I accept change, and I will reveal more and more of my authentic self as the time passes. Perhaps one test of friendship I can peruse is to give them my blog address and stand trial to their judgement, and perhaps end the relationship forever, or not. But before that, let me indulge in this companionship I earn by being a socially-acceptable hypocrite.

According to Me – Icebreakers

According to Me, icebreakers are a perfectly ordinary social tool. It does not earn a person the right to be accused of being nosy, or random, or of the like.

I like being vocal and I suppose I am the type of person who simply cannot bear being silent. Perhaps I am in love with the sound of my own voice. I have heard that that is an actual “thing”. Anyhow, I abhor silence. Thus, whenever the awkward silence looms upon us and readies its wings for its downward descent, I launch the icebreaking questions. Some call it out of the blue, but I really don’t see why they do. I ask generic questions like: Do you have a pet? or What’s your favorite color? or even aptly relevant questions like Feeling nervous? to the interview candidate beside me. For some reason, this earned me a propensity to be accused of being “So random” when in actuality I am merely sparking conversation with perfectly innocent icebreakers. What do you think? Am I jumping topics too quickly? Or is it perfectly justified?

You would not believe the number of times when I heard “Huh? Why so random?” from my friends or when I encountered raised eyebrows from others. Really, is there anything wrong with using these very general icebreakers to halt the march of that ghastly fiend known as ‘awkward silence’?

According to Me – Dare to Ask

According to me, being bold, brash and brazen to demand for things or to speak out, is far from being a bad thing, although it may brush off as being brusque and rude, as I have explained in my previous According to Me. I believe the benefits far far far outweigh the cons. Now I want to mention another benefit of being excessively vocal: You never lose the “You first” game.

What do I mean? Has anyone ever asked you a question and you ask them the same thing out of raw curiosity, or with intentions for diversion, conveniently forgetting to reply, until they used the ultimate and unrivaled command: You first.

You fight back with a weak and pathetic: You say first. And they throw down the penultimate game-winning trump card: But I asked first.

Yeah, that situation. That’s what I’m talking about. It’s not a very common situation, but it used to be, and it still happens from time to time, right? If you are bold enough to ask the questions first, you will never find yourself in the position where you are at the losing end of this “You first” game.

I stumbled upon this advantage when I asked my friend out of the blue: What were your results? And so she replied, and I’m utterly confident she’s about to ask me the same thing; what sane person wouldn’t? But before that, a door opened and summoned her. She had to go. Now I sit here and indulge in the knowledge that she will never know the answer to the question, and I remain a mystery to her, and she is possibly (fat hope, but a man could hope) dying of curiosity to find out more about me. (I just realized how vain I sound by writing this.) Ah, well, whatever helps me sleep at night, right?