ME
I don't think I've ever spoken much about my council experience, simply because once it was over, I didn't really wanted to relive it. Thinking back, I had a good start- I got the treasurer post which I wanted, I had a great comm, and I even got the ad-hoc of my choice, Grad Night. I was really quite excited about council. And I don't really remember when, but then it all started going downhill.
Firstly, I had to deal with snide comments everyday about my weight from the guy councilors. It didn't really bother me at first, then it started getting to my self-esteem. Quality gems include "Don't jump down from the stage, you'll cause an earthquake" to "Eh you sure you can squeeze in between these 2 cars, you're so fat" to the classic "Why you eat so much, no wonder you're so fat". (Regarding the last comment, I will dedicate one whole post one day to it.) So I started isolating myself away from these people, which didn't do me any favours because I was always seeing them at council events, and getting away from them meant either not attending council events or leaving early sometimes. I started getting depressed, about both my weight and school work which suffered a hell lot from the amount of time I was putting into council. There were days when I just ate one granola bar for the whole day. At my lightest I was 54kg, down from my original 64kg when I entered JC, but the average Singaporean girl of my height (1.61m) was like 49kg or something, so I was still considered fat. During my grad night ad-hoc (which was the seniors' grad night), I went wearing a bubble dress. Sartorially-speaking it wasn't the best fashion choice, but it also wasn't an excuse for all those so-called 'warriors' to start commenting on how fat I looked, and why I shouldn't ever wear bubble dresses. And I think slowly, over the year, my self-esteem plummeted to an all-life low. That greatly affected my council performance, which is my second reason for a sucky council experience.
I daresay I was good councilor at the start. I did my work diligently, I helped out for many events. There was a steep learning curve initially but I would say I picked up the basic skills at a relatively fast pace. Then all the figure-bashing came into place, and my year-end results were the worst results I've ever scored in my entire life- a sea of 'E's, 'S's and 'U's. And struggling with all these problems affected my council performance, because I cut down on my time spent on council activities and attempted to refocus on my studies, to pull my grades up. And that resulted in me getting 2 demerit points, from one of the bitchiest, pettiest and most childish teachers I've ever had the misfortune to come across in my life. A simple miscommunication resulted in one of these points, and the insufficient amount of time and effort I was putting into council resulted in the other. So I practically spent the second half of my council term trying to earn these 2 points back.
The third reason I had such a terrible council experience was because I had a terrible teacher-in-charge. Remember the bitchy, petty and childish teacher I was talking about from 5 lines ago? Well, this is the male version. There were times when he acted so unreasonable, I wanted to just snap back at him. Case in point: He said I was not helping out enough at events, and said how I should follow the example set by "good councilors" ABC and XYZ (names obviously censored) who help out "so much at events by carrying chairs". WALAO LIKE THAT ALSO CAN! I'm the one who has to arrange the budget of these events, make sure the councilors do not overspend, and get these councilors reimbursed for whatever items they paid for using their own money. If I am not there carrying chairs, does that mean I'm not doing anything? And yes, I often don't stay late helping out, because my parents set a 12am curfew for me, but if simply being there and doing these shitty jobs is what constitutes a good councilor, then I really have nothing to say. These 2 said councilors are always around helping out carrying chairs and doing 'saikang', or shitty jobs, and their exuberant personalities mean they cannot be missed, and perhaps that's why it seems like they're doing so much more than others. I have to concede while I do stay back to blow balloons or whatnots before an event, I usually don't stay till late, perhaps leaving at 11pm or so. BUT what really made me mad was this one particular incident. He decided to organise a council retreat, and because my mother worked in the travel business, he asked my mother to plan the itinerary, and come up with the price. But because the total bill came over 3000 dollars, we had to go through the online balloting system. He assured my mother that all would be fine and that he would take my mother's deal. None of us expected another travel agency to also bid for the deal, and to offer a lower price than my mother's. So naturally, this SOB had no choice but to give the deal to the other travel agency, because the school was sponsoring part of the trip and he had to choose the cheaper price or he'll have to answer to the principal. No one blames him for his decision, least not my mother because she understood that this was a fair bidding system, but what made me furious was the fact that he didn't even give a word of thanks to my mother for her (wasted) time. He simply told me to tell my mother not to continue booking, because someone else had offered a better deal. He had been on the phone with my mother quite a few times to discuss the trip, and he even told her that she could start booking the chalets because the trip was more or less finalised already. We weren't expecting much, but a call to my mother to apologise for her wasted time and to say how he never expected things to turn out this way etc. would have been just fine. This may be a business deal, but you are dealing with your student's mother- a little personal touch is somewhat required, you know. This is not a faceless travel agent you're working with. In the end, it was one of the exco-excos who took the initiative to snail-mail my mother a letter of gratitude for laying out the foundations of the trip, and to apologise for the way things turned out. I boycotted the trip- a huge negative sign in my direction- but I couldn't be bothered. My mother didn't deserve to be treated this way.
There were other things as well, like how the two mean-ass teachers would treat councilors they formed a bad first impression of harshly; how the female one would constantly flirt with the guy students. Council opened up my eyes alot, and made me grew up fast. The politics were nasty, the back-stabbing and gossiping downright dirty and disgusting, but I learnt alot. It taught me what the real world out there was like, and how to deal with all these pitiful excuses of human beings, and at the same time, showed me that real Samaritans do exist. I don't ever want to relive the council experience, but I'm glad I went through it.
Some may think I'm overly sensitive and dramatizing many events, but I assure you, everything I've said is true. I suppose the reason I've finally decided to open up about this is that I'm ready to move on. I'm not going to bear any more grudges against anyone and I won't hate anyone anymore. Confronting the hurt for one last time made me realised that I'm much stronger now, and I'm not going to allow my JC experiences from shadowing my future ones.
I feel like such a spoiled, unappreciative brat of a friend- with me being away and all, I ought to spend more time hanging out with people I get to see only 3 months out of every year. And yet, this past 2 weeks have been sooo bad for me. I feel so emotionally charged, and it's all the bad emotions that's hyped up. The cakes that I baked the past week also reflect my down state- they didn't turn out as well as they usually do.
To cheer myself up, I've been looking at pretty things, in particular, pretty houses. Actually, these houses aren't just pretty- they're drop-dead gorgeous. Stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful. I literally gawked at my laptop screen. I'm a sucker for old European, Mediterranean and British Colonial architecture and interior designs, as well as country-styled/farmhouse ones. And it seems that the world is filled with people who owned my dream house(s). Sadded:(
My parents have agreed that, within the next 2-3 years, we will move to a new house. Our current house is surrounded with awful and snobbish neighbours; the house is 4-storied high with 3 flights of stairs which my rheumatoid arthritic mother has problems climbing up and down with; the house is getting old and problems such as water heater breakdown is cropping up; and because inflation has resulted in our house value increasing a modest amount, my father is considering selling it soon. Of course, all these planning are still in the early stages, but we are adamant to move out soon because my mother doesn't really like the neighbourhood. So now, I pray that my father's business will do exceedingly well so that we can have sufficient money to move into a new house.
I think I've subconsciously begin to design how my bedroom would look like already. Should I go for country, or my beloved Venetian, or perhaps vintage French? I've realised that I like rooms with characters, not simply some modern-looking schtick (which actually is also a sort of character, as I'm beginning to realise haha). But I'm still counting my chickens before they hatch- if my father gives me a renovation budget of like 1K or something only, I'll be hard-pressed to even afford authentic Venetian blinds, let alone a whole room!
<♥>
Hello, my name is Mylene.
Screams
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Meeting up with my fellow council exco-excos last Monday opened up a box of memories that I would much preferred to have kept shut and hidden away in a dark corner of my mind. These are memories that remind me of a year worth of experiences that had shaped me to become most of what I am today, and unfortunately not in all ways good. Council for me was like the world's worst roller coaster- some ups but mostly downs. And when I went home that night, I thought about these people who shared that one eventful year with me. I switched on my laptop, and inserted in my thumbdrive that contains all my council files. Everything. I went through each file one by one. Some were ordinary stuffs like a powerpoint on how to get reimbursed, while others were 'top-secret' ones, like which councilors had gotten demerit points and for what. There were pictures too, loads of them, from my council campaigning period till the 42nd SC's investiture.So much memories.I don't think I've ever spoken much about my council experience, simply because once it was over, I didn't really wanted to relive it. Thinking back, I had a good start- I got the treasurer post which I wanted, I had a great comm, and I even got the ad-hoc of my choice, Grad Night. I was really quite excited about council. And I don't really remember when, but then it all started going downhill.
Firstly, I had to deal with snide comments everyday about my weight from the guy councilors. It didn't really bother me at first, then it started getting to my self-esteem. Quality gems include "Don't jump down from the stage, you'll cause an earthquake" to "Eh you sure you can squeeze in between these 2 cars, you're so fat" to the classic "Why you eat so much, no wonder you're so fat". (Regarding the last comment, I will dedicate one whole post one day to it.) So I started isolating myself away from these people, which didn't do me any favours because I was always seeing them at council events, and getting away from them meant either not attending council events or leaving early sometimes. I started getting depressed, about both my weight and school work which suffered a hell lot from the amount of time I was putting into council. There were days when I just ate one granola bar for the whole day. At my lightest I was 54kg, down from my original 64kg when I entered JC, but the average Singaporean girl of my height (1.61m) was like 49kg or something, so I was still considered fat. During my grad night ad-hoc (which was the seniors' grad night), I went wearing a bubble dress. Sartorially-speaking it wasn't the best fashion choice, but it also wasn't an excuse for all those so-called 'warriors' to start commenting on how fat I looked, and why I shouldn't ever wear bubble dresses. And I think slowly, over the year, my self-esteem plummeted to an all-life low. That greatly affected my council performance, which is my second reason for a sucky council experience.
I daresay I was good councilor at the start. I did my work diligently, I helped out for many events. There was a steep learning curve initially but I would say I picked up the basic skills at a relatively fast pace. Then all the figure-bashing came into place, and my year-end results were the worst results I've ever scored in my entire life- a sea of 'E's, 'S's and 'U's. And struggling with all these problems affected my council performance, because I cut down on my time spent on council activities and attempted to refocus on my studies, to pull my grades up. And that resulted in me getting 2 demerit points, from one of the bitchiest, pettiest and most childish teachers I've ever had the misfortune to come across in my life. A simple miscommunication resulted in one of these points, and the insufficient amount of time and effort I was putting into council resulted in the other. So I practically spent the second half of my council term trying to earn these 2 points back.
The third reason I had such a terrible council experience was because I had a terrible teacher-in-charge. Remember the bitchy, petty and childish teacher I was talking about from 5 lines ago? Well, this is the male version. There were times when he acted so unreasonable, I wanted to just snap back at him. Case in point: He said I was not helping out enough at events, and said how I should follow the example set by "good councilors" ABC and XYZ (names obviously censored) who help out "so much at events by carrying chairs". WALAO LIKE THAT ALSO CAN! I'm the one who has to arrange the budget of these events, make sure the councilors do not overspend, and get these councilors reimbursed for whatever items they paid for using their own money. If I am not there carrying chairs, does that mean I'm not doing anything? And yes, I often don't stay late helping out, because my parents set a 12am curfew for me, but if simply being there and doing these shitty jobs is what constitutes a good councilor, then I really have nothing to say. These 2 said councilors are always around helping out carrying chairs and doing 'saikang', or shitty jobs, and their exuberant personalities mean they cannot be missed, and perhaps that's why it seems like they're doing so much more than others. I have to concede while I do stay back to blow balloons or whatnots before an event, I usually don't stay till late, perhaps leaving at 11pm or so. BUT what really made me mad was this one particular incident. He decided to organise a council retreat, and because my mother worked in the travel business, he asked my mother to plan the itinerary, and come up with the price. But because the total bill came over 3000 dollars, we had to go through the online balloting system. He assured my mother that all would be fine and that he would take my mother's deal. None of us expected another travel agency to also bid for the deal, and to offer a lower price than my mother's. So naturally, this SOB had no choice but to give the deal to the other travel agency, because the school was sponsoring part of the trip and he had to choose the cheaper price or he'll have to answer to the principal. No one blames him for his decision, least not my mother because she understood that this was a fair bidding system, but what made me furious was the fact that he didn't even give a word of thanks to my mother for her (wasted) time. He simply told me to tell my mother not to continue booking, because someone else had offered a better deal. He had been on the phone with my mother quite a few times to discuss the trip, and he even told her that she could start booking the chalets because the trip was more or less finalised already. We weren't expecting much, but a call to my mother to apologise for her wasted time and to say how he never expected things to turn out this way etc. would have been just fine. This may be a business deal, but you are dealing with your student's mother- a little personal touch is somewhat required, you know. This is not a faceless travel agent you're working with. In the end, it was one of the exco-excos who took the initiative to snail-mail my mother a letter of gratitude for laying out the foundations of the trip, and to apologise for the way things turned out. I boycotted the trip- a huge negative sign in my direction- but I couldn't be bothered. My mother didn't deserve to be treated this way.
There were other things as well, like how the two mean-ass teachers would treat councilors they formed a bad first impression of harshly; how the female one would constantly flirt with the guy students. Council opened up my eyes alot, and made me grew up fast. The politics were nasty, the back-stabbing and gossiping downright dirty and disgusting, but I learnt alot. It taught me what the real world out there was like, and how to deal with all these pitiful excuses of human beings, and at the same time, showed me that real Samaritans do exist. I don't ever want to relive the council experience, but I'm glad I went through it.
Some may think I'm overly sensitive and dramatizing many events, but I assure you, everything I've said is true. I suppose the reason I've finally decided to open up about this is that I'm ready to move on. I'm not going to bear any more grudges against anyone and I won't hate anyone anymore. Confronting the hurt for one last time made me realised that I'm much stronger now, and I'm not going to allow my JC experiences from shadowing my future ones.
Friday, August 05, 2011
The reason I've been rejecting my friends' invitations to go out the past week is because of this: I'M HAVING A VERY BAD BREAKOUT. It's concentrated on the area below my chin and at the sides of my chin (both wtf) and aside from making me socially introverted, the breakout has also made me moody and depressed. I attribute it to my incoming period and the hormonal imbalance that it never fails to cause. So it's not that I don't want to go out with you guys, I'm just not in the right mood to do so.I feel like such a spoiled, unappreciative brat of a friend- with me being away and all, I ought to spend more time hanging out with people I get to see only 3 months out of every year. And yet, this past 2 weeks have been sooo bad for me. I feel so emotionally charged, and it's all the bad emotions that's hyped up. The cakes that I baked the past week also reflect my down state- they didn't turn out as well as they usually do.
To cheer myself up, I've been looking at pretty things, in particular, pretty houses. Actually, these houses aren't just pretty- they're drop-dead gorgeous. Stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful. I literally gawked at my laptop screen. I'm a sucker for old European, Mediterranean and British Colonial architecture and interior designs, as well as country-styled/farmhouse ones. And it seems that the world is filled with people who owned my dream house(s). Sadded:(
My parents have agreed that, within the next 2-3 years, we will move to a new house. Our current house is surrounded with awful and snobbish neighbours; the house is 4-storied high with 3 flights of stairs which my rheumatoid arthritic mother has problems climbing up and down with; the house is getting old and problems such as water heater breakdown is cropping up; and because inflation has resulted in our house value increasing a modest amount, my father is considering selling it soon. Of course, all these planning are still in the early stages, but we are adamant to move out soon because my mother doesn't really like the neighbourhood. So now, I pray that my father's business will do exceedingly well so that we can have sufficient money to move into a new house.
I think I've subconsciously begin to design how my bedroom would look like already. Should I go for country, or my beloved Venetian, or perhaps vintage French? I've realised that I like rooms with characters, not simply some modern-looking schtick (which actually is also a sort of character, as I'm beginning to realise haha). But I'm still counting my chickens before they hatch- if my father gives me a renovation budget of like 1K or something only, I'll be hard-pressed to even afford authentic Venetian blinds, let alone a whole room!