i overslept and awoke late as usual almost 7am. it was eight by the time i was finally ready to leave home. class is at 9.15, and i was last to arrive in class at 9.20. lecture on how "identity is essence" is crap, totally ideological, how the notion of linguistics human rights is limited, way too simplistic, and how singlish does not necessarily compete with english. uncovered plenty of "essentialistic" thinking within myself and felt foolish for a while. i remember kee liom once said something to the extent of "不屈小节的人成不了什么大事"--i am one of those.
at about 1150am, i headed to the rbr for tomorrow's readings. to my delight, media reuses a chapter from cda last semester. which means, for the 'morrow's class, i only do one fresh set of readings and revise an old chapter. got my stock of those addictive red crackers from the cantina, green tea in a can, and reached the terminal well within planned time, 1222pm. i'd actually thought of go getting my books, but decided to wait for [eks] and see. was absorbed in drac (and the crackers) for the most part of the journey home; glad that it's actually enjoyable to be doing your readings sometimes. (i, of course, started first with drac, since i wouldn't be caught dead outside with a romance. besides, i'm slightly embarrassed i never read either before, and never even heard of reb before this.)
set foot back on homeground 149pm. i'd calculated, in class, i'd reach home at two, so that was good timing. i thought, my, i'm back early, but fourteen minus eight is six, i'd spent a quarter of my day out already, and half of this time was on transportation; not early at all! as always, i couldn't wait to get rid of those "outside clothes" and slip back into my umm (synonymous to) pajamas, and get seated back in front of my dear compie.
back in front of my dear compie, after deleting those erotic spam mail, ploughing through school mail and lj comments, there is nothing really left to do. i don't really feel like seeing mat today, for i might jolly well exhaust myself spending too much time with him again. a bright white working shirt on a hanger by the window makes me contemplate the word 帅. it is very nice and straight and handsome--the reason men's clothes are so much more appealing than women's. the thought of actually getting down to the media readings makes me feel so sleepy. i must be being hynotised.
i hope this explains my entry being written as a mere account of the (first half of the) day, minimal sidetrack (i think). (1) drac (the first four chapters at least) is written account-style. i'm getting better at imitation these days, having no mind of my own, as you too would understand, if you attended class with me. (2) it's an illustration of how mundane life can get back at school--nothing bad, it's smooth, kinda plain, sorta peaceful, predicatable, cut and dry, day and night, earth and sky (sound familiar already?). (3) it's so boring, i'm really falling asleep, yet not tired, the only thing that grants me the illusion i'm doing something worthwhile is my continued typing......
and of course, all this obsession in the teeny-weeny, totally extra, uninteresting, not at all helpful details, is only to exemplify myself as the living proof of kee liom's words of wisdom (as indicated above).