From Hero to Zero

You know a semester has really commenced when your classes are pared down to 2/3 or even 1/2 its usual attendance. My 8:40am class is looking more forlorn. For once in my university life, I actually do not want to miss any lectures. For once, the readings are done (whether they are on time or not remains to be seen) The (almost) model and straight-A student in JC who had never missed a JC class (except PE) had become a handmaiden of truancy. Who would have thought? Well, maybe a lot of people.

Somehow, my classmates of yore have the impression of me being quite the cheongster. At that time, I was very eager for clubbing. Alcohol was never a big draw for me. Neither is the music, I don't particularly like techno music and I'd probably die on Mambo nights from rolling my eyes to the coordinated, heart-touting hands. I just wanted to dance, with abandon, with myself. I rebuked worries with the swing of my hips, shed the shell of prudeness with my waving limbs. I was enjoying the contortions of my body, oblivious to most around me, eyes closed in a world of my own. At the end of it, only "I" emerged from that crucible. "I", with a head of smoke-braided hair.

Those wilder days are somewhat behind me. As I think about it, I dread the random guys who dance too close, the swirling nauseating alcohol in my body (yeah after being semi-drunkish once, I've stopped drinking. Plus, I have a lousy dis-ability to hold alcohol) and the whole smoking chamber. The biggest reason is probably because I dun have any kakis (as in good partners-in-crime) to go pub-hopping with. The second biggest reason is my darling hates pubs. And dancing. And smoke. So that's how I ended up being in the land of Friday-Saturday night parties and never actually gone to a pub/club. (plus, they always want to check your ID and the only legit one I have is my passport...so yeah.... not a good idea)