Pretty Handsome Awkward

The first part of the domain competition is over; the winner will be announced soon. I need to collate the results from the other judges.

When I got into university, my name (along with the names of thousands of other high school students) was published in the newspaper along with the course I had been accepted into.

The annoying thing is, my parents took this to their advantage, and scrutinised the entire list of names, searching for people I knew, once knew, or once knew and had forgotten, seeing if they had been as smart as I was. Inherently they all got “better” courses. “Better” meaning that the course just happened to have a higher required mark. That didn’t tell me anything.

So from that ordeal, my parents found two people who were attending the same university as me, though not the same course. These two people happened to fall under the category of once knew.

And boy, they were real jerks.

Both had gone to my Catholic primary school which I had attended for five or so years. I hated them both, for teasing me and bullying me. Both of those boys.

Oddly enough, they were quite cute as children, but mean. They picked on me because of my height, my long hair, my name, the fact that I didn’t get pocket money, and they teased me and said I smelled like a cat.

I happened to see both of these boys at uni – just in passing. One of them passed me when I was sitting. I wanted to wave, but hesitated.

The other one, the Asian one who was always shorter than me – had changed so much. I passed him on the escalator. I could tell it was him, even if he looked different. He had a tryhard hairstyle – much like that of your average scene/emo kid – generally, long fringe and all. He’d grown taller, obviously, but I knew that despicably snarly, arrogant baby-face anywhere.

I didn’t wave at him.

I was pondering getting a Facebook account. But knowing that for so long I have not wanted one, and still thinking, I decided to look up the names of these boys I used to know.

I don’t think I’ll ever get a Facebook. I’m generally non-conformist. But I don’t want a Facebook because, first of all, it will eat up my time. And I don’t need it. I don’t need some social networking site to help me talk to my friends. I don’t even have many friends, and I’m not afraid of admitting it. I have few friends, but they’re the best friends in the world. I talk to them every day, I have their phone numbers, addresses, Twitter usernames, and I see them often. I don’t need Facebook to connect with my “old” friends. There’s a reason why they’re old. They’re not my friends anymore. What are they going to do – the same thing as Bebo and other social networking sites, trying to get as many friends as they can?

There’s a reason why I don’t want to know them anymore. There’s a reason why I don’t contact them.

When I found the Facebook page of the Asian boy, I could not have laughed harder at his profile picture. So, who’s the one with the long fringe now? Who’s the one with the crooked teeth? Who’s the one with their mouth gaping open in their profile picture looking like a drunk reveller, eyes big and wide? While you have a chicken suit on your head? đŸ˜›

Comments are closed.