Blog titles can be deceiving. Very very deceiving.

While you're thinking that this is probably another one of those "i'm-so-emo-i-should-kill-myself" entries, thanks to my title above, i hate to break it to you guys, but it's not. I'm just still hooked onto Taufik's songs, since it's been replaying again and again in cafe. I know i'm not justifying Hady's win in Asian Idol, but Taufik is more of MY type of music, if you know what i mean. But all in all, like i've said a million times before, and will say it again; i vote myself to be the Support Local Music campaign ambassador. So Hady, it's all okay, i still adore you. =)

Earlier today, my younger brother got his secondary school posting and as expected, he'll be seeing those damned walls along Dunman Road - Tanjong Katong Secondary. Hmm...secondary school...just yesterday i wished that i could go back to that world. But just now, while trying to exterminate bees in cafe, think that God is trying to tell me something.

See, the moments in TK has been brought back to me. The short, five-finger above the knees skirts, affectionately labeled "butt-flaps" by the non-superficial, have arrived just outside my cafe, complete with the rest of the package. This includes the skinny cheerleader-type girls with the typical Barbie doll hair and the peppy, valley girl voice tones. Also having traversed the not-so-perilous road between home and the fast-food restaurant are the flashy, marbley plastic covered cell phones that sing out a few bars of Rihanna's latest every time a call is received.

Joelyn, my fellow colleague cum bitching partner, nudged me, and raised her eyebrows as i smile slightly and watch. Minah #1 just pulled out her cell phone, handed it to Minah #2, and giggled, tossing her chemically altered hair all the while. Minah #2 is now dialing a number written on a small scrap of college-ruled notebook paper and giggling up a storm of her own. Chances are that she has just called a boy. Not that i've seen anything like this before in sceondary school, but hell, i shall watch..

Minah #2 pauses, waiting for someone to pick up, then her eyes widen as she begins to speak.

"Heloo, um, nie Khai kan?" *pause* "Hey! Nie Nurul lah! Ingat tak?"

Minah #1 mouths, "Dier ingat? DIER INGAT TAKK??"

Minah #2 shakes her head and continues talking in her high-pitched voice, "Alah, yang last week tu. Time pat canteen. Yang ur friend kacau2 kite. Ahh. A'ah! Betol lah."

She covers the phone and squeals, "Dier ingat aku!" and quickly put the phone back up to her ear, while Minah #1 claps in excitement for her friend's outstanding achievement – jarring a memory in a boy's mind…

The scene progresses as i stood there at the counter, watching in utter astonishment that i had even considered wanting to go back to that. How well i remember those days, when the biggest thing to worry about was scoring a 75% on the that english test in order to acquire a passing grade, but the only thing anyone really did worry about was...

"OI ADEK. Nie tempat kite org tau."

...not stepping on the seniors' domain. And not having that last little piece of hair that it took hours to work into the ever-so-stylish hairdo not come flying out when talking to the most popular football player in school. And above all, staying cool enough for acceptance by wearing illegal disapproved ankle-length socks.

It's still very clear to me. The days on end when the girl, who daddy sent her to school with the most expensive cars you can't even afford the steering wheel, would walk into literature class flaunting her new NIKE 'supposedly' school shoes. Every third Monday of each month, in she would come...

"I throw away that Adidas shoe lah! So dirty sia...make us run around the field. Stupid P.E."

"Wah. Then new shoe ah? How much sia?"

"Super cheap, i tell you. $75 bucks only."

Yes...shallowness abounded. But deep in the recesses of the small classrooms and locker areas were those of us who decided that...

"I swear I am never going to buy anything for $75 unless it's large...like a vacuum or something."

We were the ones that became disgusted with the trauma-drama of who a certain girl dumped when and why and where and how. Sure, we were all each other had, but everyone still knew who we were. If we felt like singing during recess, we'd sing at recess. If we felt like dancing ot that RnB tune on the benches by the sink, we'd throw ourselves into a freestyle mode. But since we weren't popular, people wouldn't even laugh at us. They'd give us the "you're-so-lame-why-are-you-within-7-feet-of-my-personal-space" look. But we didn't care, did we?

So I used to think that we'd prevail in the end! And that justice would reign! And those skinny little girls that got picked for the school's talentime because they were the beautiful people that listened to hip-hop and drank soda and ate McDonalds every day yet never gained an ounce would twist their ankles on their platform shoes and land flat on their butts in front of the cutest guy in school!

But alas, that's not it worked out...

...because now as I look back upon those "golden years," I see that we were all searching for what was the right thing to do. Do you lie to your parents and sneak out after curfew to meet that sec.4 guy down the street or do you make sure that your relationship with family stays strong? Do you not wear Sketchers because the entire school is wearing them or do you just not care and do what you feel like doing, even if it does mean going along with the crowd once in a while?

And that's the way it's been forever and probably will always be. Those of us who haven't stopped searching, really searching, know how to help, and we need to. And that's something I myself need to do...

"AAAGGGHHH!"

Minah #2 just spilled her Hot Choc onto her white skirt while she was busy giggling on the phone. Minah #1 just looks on in dismay then blinks and jumps up, throwing a napkin at her friend and shrieking, "SIAL AH KAU!"

I smiled to myself and proceed to make another jug of coffee base. Someday they'll grow up. And when they did...

...they'll look on, hummed to the Singapore Idol of that season (if the Idol series stays that long) and blog it down, like i just did.