You Are a Dreaming Soul

Your vivid emotions and imagination takes you awy from this worldSo much so that you tend to live in your head most of the timeYou have great dreams and ambitions that could be the envy of all...But for you, following through with your dreams is a bit difficult You are charming, endearing, and people tend to love you.Forgiving and tolerant, you see the world through rose colored glasses.Underneath it all, you have a ton of passion that you hide from others.Always hopeful, you tend to expect positive outcomes in your life. Souls you are most compatible with: Newborn Soul, Prophet Soul, and Traveler Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

Was actually A Visionary Soul earlier... So which am I? A mix of the two perhaps...

Almost finishing my book. Like the story. It's very sad. And I have to say that I absolutely hate King Henry VIII. A most selfish man. Ambition and power really does corrupt, I think. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Also, stories should not involve little children being... maltreated. I can deal with blood and gore and war and all the fighting, and grown-ups dying. But put a little child in the story, and make it a pawn, and I fall to pieces in fear for its life. Am traumatised enough by what happened in PiF.

I realise that everytime I go home from wherever, taking the train, I look forward to that walk from the interchange right to my doorstep. During that 10 minutes or so, I simply let my feet carry me, and my thoughts start to wonder. The route is so very familiar that my feet really just leads me. I'll be so far off in my thoughts that, I think, if you saw me, and waved and shouted to me, I wouldn't notice you. Much like being engrossed in a good book. More than once, I caught myself at it. I'd be walking and I'd start thinking about something and then suddenly, when I'm finally fully aware of my immediate surroundings, I'd be at the lifts under my block of flats. And I'd realise I had no recollection of some parts of the journey. I mean, I do vaguely remember walking, but it seemed over too soon. As though I was so absorbed in my thoughts, the real walk seemed a blur.

I like that solitary walk home. It just gives time to think, to wonder and to ponder. I don't know what to call it... It's just... peaceful. Or perhaps it's a calming exercise, both for the mind and the body.

The Big Move tomorrow. And I am not supposed to get on the train. But I will try. Am miffed.

Anyway, have something to say. I know that my blog is in a very public place - the World Wide Web. I can't help it if my blog seems to constantly appear in the yahoo search results. I really don't know why. And I don't know how to go about finding out the reason. I wish I could put a password like Pige does, so that only selective people are privy to these information, but I have no knowledge of how to do that, either. So here lies my blog entries, for everyone to see, if they wish. And honestly, I am fine with that now. Because I made the choice of having a blog. And this place has never been a store for my innermost emotions anyway. Merely a channel for sharing between friends. But I ask for only one small thing: Have the courtesy of letting me know if you've visited? Especially if I do know you. I mean... Passing visitors do stumble here, and leave with no impression... And I couldn't care less. But it's a bit different if you're someone I know. Just say something, won't you? There's a guestbook. Don't leave me in the dark.

Of course, I wouldn't be able to do anything if you are determined to remain lurking in silence. So be it. -_-

'The Other Boleyn Girl' has taken a very unpleasant turn. Was annoyed that what I wanted to happen has no prospect of ever happening. But I like the story. Themes of ambition, power, sacrifice and love. The three Boleyn siblings, Anne, Mary and George, doing whatever it takes to bring the Howard family to the highest possible position in England - the throne. And it's all quite sad... Here's a bit of it.

His young handsome face crumpled and he buried his face into the rich sleeve of his jacket. "I'm in love with a man," he said simply. [What is it with homosexuality in the 16th century?]

"Francis Weston," I said at once. [And he had to be called Francis?!]

His silence told me that I had guessed right.

Anne's face was one of stunned horror. "Does he know?"

He shook his head, still buried among the rich red velvet of his embroidered sleeve.

"Does anyone else know?"

Again his brown head shook.

"Then you must never give hint of it, never tell anyone," she ordered him. "This must be the first and last time you speak of it to anyone, even to us. You must cut him out of your heart and mind and never even look at him again."

He looked up at her. "I know it's hopeless."

But her advice was not for his benefit. "You endanger me," she said. "The king'll never marry me if you bring shame to us."

"Is that it?" he demanded, in sudden rage. "Is that all that matters? Not that I am in love and tumbled like a fool into sin. Not that I can never be happy, married to a snake and in love with a heartbreaker, but only, only, that Mistress Anne Boleyn's reputation must be without blemish."

At once she flew at him, her hands spread like claws, and he caught her wrists before she could rake his face. "Look at me!" she hissed. "Didn't I give up my only love, didn't I break my heart? Didn't you tell me then that it was worth the price?"

He held her away but she was unstoppable. "Look at Mary! Didn't we take her from her husband and me from mine? And now you have to give up someone too. You have to lose the great love of your life, as I have lost mine, as Mary lost hers. Don't whimper to me about heartbreak, you murdered my love and we buried it together and now it is gone."

George was struggling with her and I gripped her from behind, pulling her off him. Suddenly, the fight went out of her and the three of us stood still, like masquers forming a tableau, me, hugging her waist, him holding her wrists, her stretched hands still inches from his face.

"Good god, what a family we are," he said wonderingly. "Good god, what have we come to?"

"It's where we're going that matters," she said harshly.

George met her gaze and nodded slowly, like a man taking an oath. "Yes," he sighed. "I won't forget."

"You'll give up your love," she stipulated. "And never mention his name again."

Again the defeated nod.

"And you'll remember that nothing matters more than this, my road to the throne."

"I'll remember."

Nikki is in Chennai. The earthquake... Tsunamis... I really, really hope she's all right. =S

Went bowling for the first time today. Didn't get any strikes. Bowling isn't my thing... I suppose. Got quite frustrated at myself. I just couldn't put enough force into it...

After that, we (my usual cousin gang) went to play laser mania for the first time - you wear these vests with flashing lights and a connected gun... and you shoot each other. We were split up into two teams and we went into this dark maze. My blasted gun kept going off. But it was still fun... the vest vibrates when you're shot... and you take 4 or 5 seconds to recover. I turned out to be quite the marksman... shocked me. Was 6th in rank out of 18 people.

Finished Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express. What an incredible mystery plot. Much too... incredible, if you ask me. Mystery stories are always so factual compared to other stories. I much prefer stories which make you cry or scream or become angry or terribly happy. When I was reading that Poirot novel, I was merely frustrated. I kept going: "Where? Where???", "Haaaah. WHAT.", "How did he know that???" and "That's not possible." It's all very intellectually stimulating, but I much prefer those angsty, smash your heart to smithereens kind of novels.

To which I have to add that Pawn in Frankincense is the most emotionally-engaging book I have ever had the privilege to read. The ache remains. I can't get rid of it.

Am going through a phase... which might not turn out to be a phase. Haha. I have discovered that I am attracted to historical fiction. It might be because of Lymond... or it might be the other way round - that part of the reason I adore LC is because it is historical fiction. Before I knew Lymond, I was already interested in historical stuff... or fiction that has its roots in actual history.

Borrowed 'The Other Boleyn Girl' by Philippa Gregory and 'The Girl With The Pearl Earring' by Tracy Chevalier today. See what I mean? Borrowed Poirot too though.

You Are a Visionary Soul

You are a Visionary Soul. You are a curious person, always in a state of awareness.Connected to all things spiritual, you are very connect to your soul.You are wise and bright: able to reason and be reasonable.Occasionally, you get quite depressed and have dark feelings. You have great vision and can be very insightful.In fact, you are often profound in a way that surprises yourself.Visionary souls like you can be the best type of friend.You are intuitive, understanding, sympathetic, and a good healer. Souls you are most compatible with: Old Soul and Peacemaker Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

=) Sounds nice. There's a 'What kind of Intelligence Are You?' Quiz as well... But I got the Linguistic Intelligence... which I didn't find very accurate. Hm.

Crappy shot. Muahaha.

[Jamal, the camel. Elsie's friend.]
A cuuuute camel soft toy! My sis found it at the famous souk - Khan El Khalili. It's a really nice sort of bazaar... lots of interesting trinkets, lots of bargaining...

Camels! Took a ride, albeit a really short one. Bumpy. Liked it.

What the pyramid looks like up close.

The sun atop the pyramid

Us at Giza. Reminds me of the Weasley pic. Haha.

As close as it was possible to get near the Sphinx

Sphinx - closer shot

Wider shot

In Cairo, Egypt, I stayed, with my family of 16 people, in an apartment located in an Indonesian student hostel. It had a main hall, and several smaller rooms connected to it. I roomed wth my sister and 30-year-old cousin who always travels with us. There was always food in the main hall - 24 hours a day. Loaves of bread, jam, nutella, cheese, lipton tea (not that I fancy this much), hot and cold water dispenser etc. And at each meal, asian food will be served - nasi lemak in the mornings and fried rice at night. Suffice to say, food wasn't a problem.

There were always other people in our apartment. My uncle's friends and acquaintances in Cairo always came by... and this consisted of mostly Azhar University (the first university in the world) students. [Abang Hattar, Marhani, Rashid, Kamarul, Fauzan, Shamsul, Kak Siti Hawa and Kak Faridah.] There were Singaporeans, Malaysians and Indonesians. And we got to know them really well. Often, we'd just sit together in the main hall and talk. It was nice... and home-y. I think I missed that part most about Egypt - the apartment and the people and the nice times we had.

Anyway, we visited the Pyramids early on in the trip. The famous three pyramids of Giza. Unfortunately, I did not go into the pyramid. Elders had some qualms about it... some superstition. I brought back to our apartment, a pebble from Giza. To which has been blamed my consequent ill health. So I threw it away. Yes, I was sick, with fever and terrible sore throat and ear ache. And went to a doctor in Dandara, a small town in Lower Egypt. I had the flu.

I should describe the pytamids in detail. But... nothing much to say. There isn't much more than what you see in pictures or videos. They are big, of course... and really quite majestic... But, frankly, it was quite a flat feeling when I finally laid eyes on one of the seven wonders of the world. I'll paste some pictures later. Then there was the Sphinx, which we couldn't touch. We couldn't even get near. Maddenning. Again... it looked grand. But its face is... yes, quite gone. Weathered.

Very dusty. Very. Sometimes, you'd breathe in dust and won't stop coughing for minutes on end. Really quite bad.

Cairo, is a city of horns. The streets are constantly jammed. At some point in any journey, your vehicle will most definitely get stuck in traffic. And they will all start horning! Like they're talking to each other. Beeps everywhere. After a while, you get used to it, and don't jump in fright every time. Oh, and the traffic lights - they don't work. They just blink amber, that's all. No wonder traffic is bad, eh? Occassionally, when it gets too bad, the traffic police come in. Otherwise, it's a matter of hand waving, beeping and horning, and squeezing your van through gaps. Really quite mad. And crossing the roads are just scary. We just keep saying how, if we were to live there, we'd most definitely die getting knocked down by a car. I recall how I'd just grip the arm of the person next to me and we'd all dash across the road together. Haha.

Egypt, is also, a country of beautiful people. Really. I have never seen so many gorgeous people within so short a period of time. Ok, granted, Europeans have the nice colouring - the blond, brown, red hair and blue, green and gray eyes. Arabs normally have dark colouring. Ocassionally, they have light brown hair and eyes... or even greenish eyes. But what the Arabs have are perfect features. Almost every one of them have perfectly sculpted noses, and nicely lined eyebrows and absolutely enchanting eyes. I swear, it's not modern day make up or plasic surgery. 7 out of 10 people on the streets are beautiful. There was a sweeper, in an orange uniform, who made me do a double take. And when we went to the theme park called Dream Park, we were surrounded by good-looking teenagers. At some points, it seemed unreal. However... for all their good looks... they were an uncivilized lot.

6 of us - me, my bro, my sis and three cousins, were queueing up for this particular ride. The one like Wipe Out in Gold Coast, Australia; where you get flipped upside down and rolled about a couple of times. We queued up for it for an hour. Because they kept jumping and cutting queue and climbing the 1.7 m high gates. The 6 of us were about to go mad. I had never been so angry in public before. I am, I can safely say, a patient and tolerant person. But those people were driving us completely insane. They were a RUDE, ROWDY lot. And I have never gone to an amusement park with such lax security before. I kept muttering curses under my breath and called them 'uncouthed idiots' right to their faces. Some of them could understand english, I could see, because they stared at me when I cursed. But I didn't give a damn. They cut your queue right in front of your eyes... and push and were just absolutely uncivilized animals! And climb the gates! It was like a riot, I tell you. The 6 of us foreigners stuck together like glue, with me and my sister in the centre, surrounded by our boy cousins. At one point, Hefni, the oldest of us and who'd just finished his A-levels, started bellowing angrily when this group of boys started climbing the gates and crossing over our heads. Some of them weren't as bad... but they still wanted to cut queue. One of them sign languaged to my brother: "My friend -" and pointed to his friend in front of us. To which my brother replied: "My friend is right in front of the queue; CAN I GO THERE?" I tell you... we were so angry. But we couldn't possibly start punching any of them. For one thing we were small. For another, there were 6 of us and a million of them. There seemed to be some school trip. That was one hour of my life, which I will never forget.

We also went by train, to Luxor. The centre of old Egyptian civilization. There was the temple of Karnak. We also went to Cleopatra's temple, and Hatshepsut temple. Hatshepsut was a female pharoah (quite a feat to be so at that time) who often dressed as a man. And finally went into some tombs. At some parts, we had to crawl because the tunnel was so small. Pharoahs normally married their siblings and daughters and sons. Quite ewey. Incest fest. If I'm not wrong, Ramses II had about 50 wives, of which 2 were his daughters. His favourite however, was the fifth, called Nefertiti (or is it Nefertari? Darn, I forgot.) You sohuld take a look at some of the photos.

Will stop here for now.

Having slight headache... Should sleep... But have some weird jet lag...

Went to Cassie's blog. Saw DV 15 Part 2 cookies. Feel like crying. Feel like grabbing hold of someone, Cassie preferably, and shaking her hard. MAD. Please. Why do people love to torture their characters. My heart just bleeds. And I keep reading these kind of novels where the main characters just... SUFFER. @_@

Harry Potter Personality Quiz by Pirate Monkeys Inc.

Muahaha. The first thing I do when I come back from Egypt is an HP Personality quiz. Haha. It's accurate anyway... INFP I am.

Anyway... AM BACK. Lots to say. But can't say all now. Have tons of photos to paste. Just landed... an hour ago... Bags still unpacked... Wanted to bring back pebbles from Giza but dad and relatives convinced me that it was cursed, and was the cause of my ill health there. Hah. So I didn't bring it back and had to leave it along the dusty streets of Cairo.

Later!

Leaving for Egypt tonight. Getting quite excited. Will be back on 18th!

"Chide not the pupil hastily, for that will both dull his wit and discourage his diligence, but [ad]monish him gently, which shall make him both willing to amend and glad to go forward in love and hope of learning... Let the master say, "Here ye do well". For I assure you there is no such whetstone to sharpen a good wit and encourage a love of learning as his praise... In mine opinion, love is fitter than fear, gentleness better than beating, to bring up a child rightly in learning."
~ Roger Ascham, 1515-1568, Scholar and Tutor to Queen Elizabeth

Was trying to do three things simultaneously: pack my bag, finish editing my fifth and last switzerland vcd and complete my mom's b'day present. Succeeded in only doing the first.

Started reading RC. Suddenly find the whole chunk about Russia not so bad. It used to seem draggy to me. Will bring it to Egypt.

First, shall say that my work experience was cut short. By 2 days. With some excuse that the Neuroradiology people were busy with... something. Can't quite remember what the lady said. The moment I registered the fact that it was over, my mind couldn't focus. I hadn't said goodbye properly to the friends that I made, especially Estella! I even made an ambigram for her when we were bored to death in the research lab. And Derrick has my Finding Nemo DVD! Must sms him to return it to me... next year. Really had a lot of fun with all the other 6 people on the attachment. We even played the... whaddyacallit... number game. The choose-a-number-between-1-and-500 game. And the person who lost would have to drink a whole bottle of water. That isn't much of a forfeit, I know. But what could we do? We wanted to send the loser to the stinky animal research lab, but then decided that it was too far. And we'd have to press the intercom each time. Haha.

Anyway, celebrated Duck's birthday yesterday. Really had lots of fun. The whole planning part was really hilarious. I think we laughed all the way on the train ride. Duck's LJ entry described it all.

Leaving for Egypt on Fri night. Yes, Egypt! Shall paste lots of pictures here when I come back!

Wasn't as excited as I was going to Switzerland... but I will be excited on Friday. Yay. Havven't packed though. Hate packing. :P

Yoohoo...

Cousin shot! (Dad's side.) There was something on the ceiling... *cringe* Lizard? Hehehehehe. Hilarious.

Have I mentioned that surgeons are busy people? Ah, I have. Well, they are extremely busy people.

Today, we sort of entertained ourselves and wandered around the hospital on our own because virtually all the surgeons do not wish to be tagged around. Because they were too busy.

Went into the OT again. Saw the brain again and some blood vessels. It was an aneurysm operation.

We couldn't even touch the surgeons' gowns... or brush against them. If we did, they'd go, "Did you touch me? Did you? Did you? Are you sure you didn't?" Then, looking annoyed, they'd go change into another gown just to be sure. And we stood for three hours in the OT, just like yesterday. Feet were aching like MAD. I employed the flamingo method of standing on one leg at a time. Helped a little bit. And the masks smelled icky. Smelled like airplane smell - magnified.

We wandered around... using the phrase "We're students from RJC on attachment with Dr So-and-so" to get virtually anywhere. The ICU wards and the OT changing rooms. But even so, we hated having to press the intercom button each time, and tried chasing after open doors. You see, most doors require special access staff cards, which we don't possess. So we'd hang around a door... and dart after this nurse or that doctor. Quite amusing. Sometimes, walking down a corridor, we'd see a nurse walk through a door, then we'd all break into an almighty sprint before the door slams shut. And then burst into laughter thereafter.

After lunch, we decided to go back to the OT again as there was nothing else to do and despite the prospect of aching feet again. We were outside the changing rooms... waiting for the doors to open. And finally, the women's room did. So me and Estella (from So3K. A nice girl, easy to talk to.) went in. Then we sneaked out the back door, whispering furiously as we did so, and into the men's changing room. I held open the door for Estella, who went to the front door and opened it for Derrick and Jensen who were still hanging around the corridor. They were quite shocked to see us. Thank god there were no men inside. I was sooooo scared but excited. It was like an insane adventure. Then the both of us girls returned to the women's changing room, giggling hysterically as we did so.

Then we took photos in our OT gowns. So funny! Hope they send it over to me soon.

Started on neurosurgery job attachment today.

Surgeons are such busy people. They walk around very fast, surveying their patients. Seem like very decisive and confident people too.

Went into the operating theatre (abbv: OT) today. Was quite amusing at first because we had no idea of the correct procedure. We simply wore the blue robes over our uniform. And when we appeared outside the OT, the nurses were horrified at our attire. "Are those your own shoes?" And we went, "Ya..." Apparently, we needed to take of all our normal clothes and shoes. So we had to go back all the way to the changing room and adorn the attire correctly.

In the theatre, there was this 50 stg old man, lying front down on the table. Only the back of his head was visible. It had already been cut open when we came. The sight wasn't stomach-turning... but it was eewy. The cut was about the length of my palm and half as deep. They kept sucking up blood (the poor guy was bleeding so much), then they drilled part of the skull, so they could get to the brain. Then I saw the brain. It was white with blood all over it. Much like tofu in red... liquid. And it was throbbing... with the beat of the heart. Really fascinating. Then the surgeon kept probing and scraping the brain tissue, with the aid of a microscope. There was a television screen for us to watch. And we saw the tumours. Though I really wondered how he could tell for sure they were tumours and not more brain tissue. We were standing there for approximately 2 and a half hours, being quiet and watching. We couldn't see much most of the time. Or didn't understand. Feet were aching! And, boy, was it cold. The robes were loose... and the aircon was on full blast. Freezing.

Later on, went to the clinic to observe consultation with patients. Interesting ailments...

Realise that I shall have to learn a number of languages in order to be an effective doctor since most of the patients don't speak english or malay.

Languages I have/wish to learn:

1. Mandarin
2. Hokkien
3. Cantonese
4. Hindi
5. Tamil
6. French
7. Spanish
8. Arabic

Later, Dr James Tan said that, other than the fact that patients can sue you for post-surgical problems, taking up medicine is fantastic.

How encouraging.

For the past two days, I have been attached to two neurologists (with 6 other people) at Tan Tock Seng Hospital. So far, it has been extremely enlightening. And tiring as well.

The attributes that a doctor should have (According to Dr Lee):
Passion
Empathy
Humility
Patience
Clarity of thought (A bit worried about this, seeing as how muddled up I can get about things.)

I've been thinking and thinking... and thinking. About what I want to do with my life. Is being a doctor it? At certain points of time, I am so sure. But then... certain things will discourage me. The competition for placing in med school. (200 out of 1300 or so applicants succeed). The seemingly bloody difficult exams. The years of studying. (appx 15 years to be a specialist). The cutting up of live bodies - do I have the guts? Am I decisive enough to be a doctor? Can I handle the pressure of being responsible for someone's life?

When I do feel sure, it's because when I'm at the hospital, I seem to think I can work in that sort of environment. The whole team of nurses and all of the staff (therapist, radiographer etc)... their seamless communication and cooperation, with the sole purpose of serving patients and saving lives, inspire me. I also think the 'detective work' of diagnosing patients' diseases very exciting and intellectually challenging. And what is better than knowing that your work helps other people? In this case, it prolongs their lives. That motivates me. (Apparently, the advice for choosing the right career is finding that thing that motivates you. So you can enjoy your job and make it your hobby.) And imagining myself when I'm 40 saving people's lives makes me excited. My life would have meaning.

And when I was on the way home on the train yesterday, a million thoughts about my future, my life and my career, rushing through my head, I saw a rainbow. The second time in three days. That's quite something. And it seemed like a sign. Or a good omen. I just grinned like mad. No one else seemed bothered about the rainbow. I didn't think anyone noticed. Except for this lady who just stared at it with a stony face. Honestly! It's a rainbow! How often do you see rainbows in Singapore? At least think pleasant thoughts! It gave me hope for the future somehow... seeing that rainbow. (:

Boriah! Hehehe. This photo is just amusing. More hari raya pics. :)

This is hilarious!!! Just look at them...

this...

... and this.

Me and beloved sis. Raya 2004 ;)

Me and Ahmad (Picture taken during the half hour where the granny's flat was so full, we couldn't go in.)

All of my cousins on mum's side and maternal grandma. Am officialy shortest now. :p Though am supposed to be 3rd oldest.

Girl cousins. :)

Bro, sis and me.

First of Syawal today.

Saw a rainbow while sembahyang hari raya at masjid ghufran. Very pretty. I can't remember the last time I saw a rainbow. Anyway, the mosque was overflowing with people... as usual. There never is enough space. And every year, people end up praying on the grass. But love the feeling of... togetherness. And seeing all the different people come from everwhere. Besides the Malays, Bangladesh workers, Chinese converts, 3 ang mohs and one extremely adorable brown haired boy. And all the colourful clothes.

Wore a blue baju kurung with glitter. And ended up leaving a trail of glitter everywhere I go. Glitter got on other people as well.

Bumped into Fairuz at Granny's place. Quite surprised to see him.

There were so many people at granny's house throughout the day there was no space. really. My sis and me hung around outside for half an hour at one point, because we couldn't even go in without intruding into somebody's comfort zone.

But fun all the same. :)

Dreamt about Jude Law. Again. This time, my whole family went to his house for a visit and he cooked maggi mee. There's more to it actually, but some parts are hazy so I shall not bother describing... This is getting really mad. If I could slap my obsessions out of me, I would. The weird thing is... I dont exactly think about him everytime. I'm not that obsessed. He's just constantly on my desktop background and besides that, I just have to always correct my mum, who, except for the first time, deliberately mispronounces it as Jud-y Law. I dont see why he keeps manifesting in my subconscious.

Maybe Jiawen can give a psychological explanation to this.

What ranDOM movie quote are you? by merenwen_ruby
Name
Birthday
Choose One	PhoneShoeCDLampHatNail PolishPillowBlanketChairHair Tie
The Quote	"Shall I describe it to you or shall I find you a box?"-Legolas(TTT)
Quiz created with MemeGen!

Darn. How does this meme thing know that I'm vertically challenged?

Feeling extremely annoyed with Pinnacle video editing software. It's not letting me open my projects properly. Argh. Annoying. Annoying!!! I better not lose all my stuff... And limewire is pissing me off too. Can't anything go right...

Still rereading PiF. Was reading on the way to school yesterday, and was refraining from making weird faces in the train. PiF is just so painful to read. I have no idea why I love it... It really makes my heart ache, like someone's stomping all over my heart in hobnail boots. And I haven't even gotten near the end yet. I have to keep reminding myself that these characters aren't real.

Had a dream the other night which involved pink hyenas with deadly bites, and Jude Law. Yes, Jude Law! I was trying to escape from them pink hyenas and was hiding in my room with sister. The rest of my family had been bitten. My home had been taken over by some evil foreign authority. And Jude Law came to help us. And, this is unbelievable, at one point, I called him Francis! Wth. I really should get a grip. Then we had to sneak out of my room quietly (by now, my sister seems to have vanished), and Jude Law went rummaging around in my mother's sewing drawer for some thread. Then he took out a tiny silver bow and arrow (from god knows where) and with the thread, shot the piece of string out the window towards the next nearest building. When the string was secure, he used it to jump out the window. Don't ask how a piece of flimsy thread can hold the weight of a full grown man. In the next scene, I found myself under my block of flats, with Jude Law there as well, (we must have escaped from my house) and a whole lot of people running and screaming. I don't know why. He then threw something small and metallic on the ground. I remember watching it roll... and the people running around stopping and staring at it. I had thought at first that it was a bomb, but then it slowly emitted a cloud of yellow gas. Then I got it (even though it doesn't make sense now). The gas was supposed to prevent us from being seen by the 'authority' as we escaped. The yellow gas was getting thicker, and he was still standing there. So I looked at him and told him, "Go! Go!" And he looked at me for a while and then left. He was going to come back and save all of us. Then I woke up.

And when I recalled it as I was bathing, I laughed myself silly.

The other dream before this which involved an actor was Hayden Christensen. That was really long ago... And all he did was stand in a lift with me and my cousins, smiling and grinning. Heh.

PW is over! Jubilation. Sort of screwed up presentation. Accidentally read the wrong slide at one point due to extreme nervousness, but what the heck. I could actually answer the question passably okay. And then it was over. Great feeling.

Watched hindi movie: Kal Ho Naa Ho. Loved it! I always have periods of time where I go crazy over a certain hindi movie. There was Kuch Kuch, Mohabbatein, K3G and now... Kal Ho Naa Ho. I love all the songs! And the story is just so sweeet. And now, sis and me absolutely adore Saif Ali Khan (from now on known as SAF). He's not that good looking per se, but his character in the movie, Rohit, was simply endearing. And me and sis also pity him more than we pity Shah Rukh. [Can't get the songs out of my head!]

Downloaded Limewire onto laptop. Finally. But everything seems so slow. Hm.

I really should try not to blog when I'm depressed or angry. Cause then I start ranting and raving. Not good.

Anyway, borrowed a book from the library on Saturday. A non-fiction one about how people's eyes can say lots of things. A book on eye language, you could say. Finished it! (After Lymond, almost every other book seems far simpler to complete.) Very intriguing.

Apparently... violet eyes do exist! I always thought they were a work of fiction. I've yet to see a real live person with violet eyes. Interestingly, it says that blue eyes are a sign of intelligence. This piece of info is backed up well by Lymond... but not by dumb blue-eyed blondes. Haha. Most of the stuff are hard to believe...

But there are certain parts which are very interesting and plausible! Did you know that your pupils dilate when you see something pleasant, appealing or exciting, and contract when you see something distasteful or unappealing? Hence, the phrases "eyes growing large with love" and "her eyes were pinpoints of hatred". When a person's pupils dilated with affection, the image of the person filling each pupil became, figuratively, the apple of his eye. And apparently, our eyes also dilate when we see other people's eyes dilated. Haha. That's why romantic scenes are always those with dim lights... so that the pupils of the eyes will be dilated... (Of course, we don't actually know this. We just think that dim lighting is romantic.) And when a man sees a woman with dilated eyes, he senses that the woman finds him appealing, and he becomes sexually simulated. Hahaha. How science makes everything unromantic. In other words, pupil dilation is a sign of sexual simulation.

And you know why a drug distilled from the nightshade plant is called 'belladonna'? Belladonna means beautiful lady. What the drug does is make the pupils dilate and thus make the ladies (namely prostitutes, in the past) look more appealing. So, the drug became known as the belladonna, because it made women seem more beautiful. It's all in the eyes.

Oh, and, the book also touches on how we normally look away so as to hide what we really think. Unless, you're a really, really, good actor and can tell straight lies without blinking. And how we normally dont like talking to people wearing shades because we can't see what they think. Interesting eh? We normally never acknowledge the fact that we can see what people think through their eyes. But it's true, isn't it? The eyes are most definitely windows to the soul. And you can normally tell when your close friends or family isn't feeling too good just by looking at their eyes.

This reminds me of Lymond. Oh darn. Why does everything seem to link back to Lymond... But there is one part of the series where this eye language thing is most prominent... Ah. Sigh.

Why are the forums gone??? Gasp. Nooooooo. Precious discussion threads!

There are always days when everything seems to go wrong. I feel like there's nothing to look forward to. And it gets harder and harder to laugh. And nothing good happens. Depression just sinks in, you know.

The future really seems bleak to me right now. And when I flipped through the straits times today (a rare event), I got even more depressed. The world is so superficial. You know how the papers have a new look now, and they dedicate a thick section to fashion. I just got so disgusted at certain things. About how one lady seems to think that spending thousands on botox and cosmetic surgery in general and staying young is better than going on vacations and travelling the world. When I would, without much hesitation, choose the latter. I simply think it absolutely stupid to forgo travelling the world to look pretty... for who? Her husband, who she claims she has to satisfy lest he runs away with a more beautiful and youthful girl. What kind of husband is that? What kind of love requires a wife to do that? I suppose you want to look beautiful for your husband, but doing it for fear he looks to others? Ugh.

It just irates me... this whole obsession over looks. I would willingly splurge on books, movies, computers and especially holidays. But spending a huge amount on clothes, fashion accessories and branded shoes for instance, never agreed well with me. I just feel it such a waste. I always think, "Why would it be so much fun to wear something expensive?" I could use the money for an enjoyable novel instead, or a good movie. Okay... you would look good with good clothes. And if you look good... then...? You feel good, they say. But why? Because you like the attention? The admiration? You make more friends? You meet more people? You attract the opposite sex? What??? I'm just trying to find out why humans are innately vain, to some extent. Maybe looking good brings respect? Perhaps. Hm. And if you look disgusting, people shirk you. Hm.

So. Besides the whole superficiality of the world today, which depressed me even more, I read about the three sikhs and the two muslims girls who got expelled from the french school because they refused to remove their religious accessories. Which did not just make me more depressed, but made me madder. What is wrong with wearing or adorning religious symbols as long as we respect each other and don't impose on each other? It's better than throwing people out just because they have conviction for their beliefs. Don't those people understand that for some individuals, certain things which seem ridiculous or stupid to most, like wearing headscarves or turbans, might actually be very important. And it is not as easy as, "Don't wear first ah... Education more important what...". Don't they realise that some people feel that obeying God is more important than obeying the bloody government?

Oh, and I resent how the french view the wearing of headscarves as a form of oppression or a sign of Islamic radicalism! How dare they. You think I would wear the headscarf willingly if it was meant to oppress me??? The headscarf does not oppress women!!! It protects the modesty of women. I think the only disadvantage for a woman to wear a headscarf is the immediate discrimination we get from others! The lower chances of passing a job interview or working as a receptionist, say. (You see, a receptionist has to be pretty, show that beautful mane of hair and bare some skin for the pleasure of guests.) Ugh.

And for god's sake! If they mention one more time about being a moderate muslim, I will scream. There's no such thing as a moderate muslim! What the hell does being moderate mean? Either you believe in your religion, or you don't. I don't want to be like the majority of the Turks who say they're Muslims but don't behave as Muslims and drink alcohol and dress clothes that barely cover half the body. If that is being moderate and modern, then pfft. Being modern is not in the way you dress, but the way you think. I wish some people could realise that, and we all can respect each other and have world peace.

The world is seriously full of stupid people. And am still depressed.

What Is Your Battle Cry?

Striding amidst the steppes, wielding a burning branch, cometh Shamiah! And she gives a mighty roar: "I'm going to bludgeon you with such zeal, you will not be able to see straight!"

Find out! Enter username: Are you a girl, or a guy ?

created by %20color="#cc00ff" face="times new roman">beatings : powered by

DV 15 cookies! Go see.

(Cassie says that one of her all-time fave authors is Dorothy Dunnett! =))))

Cassie's question and answer session with her fans is hilarious. Example:

eckeltricity -- Do you love me?

There was that time when I thought we were meant for each other. Unfortunately we just want different things out of life. Besides, I feel like I need to be alone for a while to really grow. It's not you, it's me.

A psycho fan. Haha.

- - - -

Cassie is evil. How can she leave us a cookie that hangs like that??? Oh... the agony...

It's terrible. The promos are over but they're still haunting me. Results aren't here yet and I'm terrified of failing. Absolutely scared out of my wits. Had a dream where I was in class, sitting next to Nikki. It was Chemistry lesson (yes, of all things...) and we were supposed to do some MCQ questions. And somehow, when we were going through the questions, I realised I hadn't completed them. (Typical tutorial situation.) And was hurriedly copying down Nikki's answers... and then Mr Lai saw me... And I was so scared! Mr Lai always manages to make me feel bad. I felt so guilty and worried... Then I woke up. And I couldn't fall asleep for a long time after that because I kept thinking about each exam paper I'd sat through, calculating the probability of passing. Which seems low. Then it all led to me thinking how I hate school, as usual, and how I wish I could run away to a pretty countryside and be alone. After a long time, I managed to fall asleep again. By the way, the only silly thing about the dream was that the MCQ questions weren't about Chemistry. It was a Singapore idol trivia. I recall a question that asked why Leandra had pink hair tied with green ribbons. (Atrocious colour combination!) And I was going, "How do I know why she wants pink hair???" And was panicking, so I just anyhow answered the MCQ questions. Of course, Leandra has really nice brown hair, and I have no idea why I dreamt that.

Anyhow, I shall record yesterday's incident of blurness. Went out whole day and watched Wimbledon with Nikki and Jean. Decided to go home at bout 5.30. Took the train from Orchard of course. Nikki was supposed to take the NEL train, so she was supposed to get off at Dhoby Ghaut. But she missed it and got off at City Hall. We were all laughing at her blurness. Waved goodbye to her as she got off at City Hall.

Jean and me stayed in the train, laughing away.

We were on the train going south.

And we were still laughing. About the fact that Nikki forgot to get off at Dhoby Ghaut.

Until. Jean stopped short when the train doors opened. And the sign on the wall said: Marina Bay.

Then we looked at each other. I remember exclaiming, "Oh my God!" And we were laughing like mad as we got off the train and ran into the train at the other side of the platform. The one that went back north.

Can you imagine, we let Nikki off at City Hall, knowing it was City Hall. And had the cheek to laugh at her, when we were missing our stop right there and then.

Absolute blurness on ALL our parts.

Bored. Wanted to put picture. Heh heh.

Am so peeved.

I cannot stand the RJ promo papers. What is up with giving us deathly difficult questions??? Sadistic pricks. They love making us suffer. I can actually do almost all the TYS questions... but for the past year promo papers, I spend half an hour figuring out one bloody MCQ! ARGH.

I hate the school. I hate it. I hate it! I really feel like chucking something heavy at somebody. The other time I felt this angry at the school was during chem lecture when they told us, less than a week to promos, that they were still lecturing on Alkanes. I was sooooo pissed at that point. I was fuming like mad. Ms Tang is nice and all, but at that point, I just hated all the tutors. For putting so much burden on the students. For continuously dumping more stuff to study for promos without being the least bit understanding that we need time for self study. Grrrrr.

The upside of tomorrow is that it's the last day of exams. And am looking forward to some freedom at last.

Restraining myself from writing about Lymond here. Now that I've got the forums, this place should contain 90% less Lymond.

Buying PiF tmr! Hopefully. And celebrating Aisyah's birthday! Not that she knows that yet. Hee.

One more paper to go. Chemistry.

What shall I say about the promos? I can say nothing good, of course. The papers were traumatising, to put it simply. Math especially. Halfway through, I was sweating so much, both from the heat and the panic seeping in, as I realised the danger of not knowing how to do almost half the questions. I nearly broke down and cried right there in the exam hall. I would have if not for the fact that it would be a waste of time if I did and I realised could at least TRY to do as much as I can.

Physics started off okay. Even though I coudn't do parts of Section B, I skipped it and did most parts of Section C. Went back to Section B, and then started to panic when I still couldn't do the questions I skipped. It LOOKED easy, believe me. The numbers they gave were simple, everything seemed straightforward, but I just couldn't do it. I almost wanted to strangle myself. It was as if I had a mental block that I couldn't lift. Two words kept running through my head the last twenty minutes, as I stared at the chunk of blank spaces in Section B - Oh no. All I thought was: Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. HOW! HOW! And that helped me in no way to solve the annoying questions.

Oh, and it also didn't help that when I was busy punching in numbers into the calculator, something small and solid fell on my hand. I thought it was a tiny pebble. It felt like it. But from the ceiling?! Then I saw it. A bee. On my table. It was upside down and wriggling its disgusting six legs in the air. I was horrified. I scooted a bit to the left. I stared at it for a good five seconds. Breathing hard. I was thinking, "No! Not now! Not during an exam! Stop plaguing me!" Let me just let you know now, in case you didn't know, that I am simply terrified of things with six legs, namely insects. Cockroaches are at the top of the list. So I was scared of the bee. Finally, thank god, I gathered the courage to swipe it off the table with my calculator. Thankfully it didn't come back or anything.

I am hoping beyond hope that I will do okay for chem. It's possibly the scariest, considering how it is my worst subject. It's scary how I'm only discovering things about reaction kinetics now. Going 'Oooooh. That's how it is...' Frightening. With so little time left.

I realise now how all this exam torture boils down to me being lazy. I should have dedicated more of my time this year to studying. I should learn to be more like duckie. Discipline. Discipline. Discipline. Then can enjoy.

My S papers are surely gone now, though there's 0.000001% hope left. I'll get over not getting S papers and not getting scholarship. It's just one of those things I'll learn to get over and realise that it's not meant to be. Am perhaps not meant to study overseas. The same way I'm not meant to be tall. Or pretty. Or a genius. God knows better.

Am surprised at how I am quite happy to be just the way I am. Despite everything.

LYMOND RANTING. Pardon me. (Safe from spoilers though.)

Suddenly wish I was born in the sixties, when Lymond first came out.

Apparently, the fan base had been huge and there were those really obsessed kinds (like the way some people are about HP today) who started writing fanfiction. And understand that there wasn't internet for use 40 years ago. So they actually put pen to paper and wrote fanfics. *collapses* They have what is called a fanzine. It's called Whispering Galleries in Scotland and the American version is called Marzipan and Kisses (I swear... I cannot recall the significance of marzipan and it's killing me! Another lymond yahoogroup is called marzipan.). I think the Whispering Galleries still exists and its 85th issue is coming out soon. (Found this out at www.ddra.org) Their fics are really serious ones, I hear (Like what happens after Checkmate)... and these fans are old now! Can you imagine? Can you imagine 4o years down the road when HP is still as fantastic a series as ever but the future fans will envy us fans now who get to WAIT for the books to arrive? And we get to read fantabulous fanfics like those written by Cassie...

Even though I've known Lymond for more than a year now, I find out something new almost every single time I bother to research or read through numerous discussion threads. It never ceases to amaze me. Apparently, it really pays off to pay close attention to minute details. So, way to go Eunice. If you manage to read till Checkmate, you'll be a Lymond expert... the way you try to find the meaning of every phrase or historical reference. I discovered something absolutely fantastic about the chronicles today. Something that really stunned me in its brilliance.

Dunnett is without a doubt a bloody GENIUS. DD - You are the master.

I can't help but think that people who do not indulge in fiction as much as others are seriously deprived of such incredible experiences. Why do people not read? Some people think me mad the way I go on about books and Lymond, but do they really know what truly awes me if they haven't given it a shot themselves?

I was speechless today, I tell you.

The true depth of the series is mind-boggling.

She was darn smart I tell you. How can so much knowledge be stored in a human sized brain?

Came across a site that listed out the research books she used in writing Lymond. My eyes bulged out I think. Enough said.

I shall sleep now, while my brain tries to accept Dunnett's awesomeness.

Did another lymond quiz. 'Which Lymond book are you?': I'm the Ringed Castle. Weirdly, I never thought it as my favourite volume... But there are still some nice parts there. I need to buy it after promos...

Speaking of which, I SHOULD BE STUDYING. And damn PW. Ruining my life even more. My workload is heavy enough as it is, thank you.

Went to challenger today. Bought so many things! Bought new video editing software, cd burning software, a tiny retractable mouse and 3 DVD-Rs. Yippee.

Oh... I now have a brick from school on my desk. It's a brick with RAFFLES JC carved in it. After pe yesterday, Ms Poon asked if we wanted them or else they'd all be thrown away. It's really a brick from some school wall I think... hahaha.

Crap. My conscience is telling me to go offline. It'd do me good to listen.

Did a 'Which Lymond character are you?' quiz. I got Gideon. Heh. And is that Colin Firth? Looks like him.


Congratulations! You're Gideon Somerville. It's too
bad you were killed off between books. You
deserved better. You are a caring and talented
individual but your own talents tend to be
overshadowed by those around you. That's okay
with you, though; you know your own worth and
you want others to be comfortable--even if that
means they have to get all the limelight.

Which Lymond Character Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I have a 'bumper sticker' calendar, where there's a different bumper sticker (collected from numerous places) for every day. Normally it's a joke or a contradictory phrase like, "What if there were no hypothetical questions?" or "5 out of 4 people have a problem with fractions." Yesterday's was one of the most amusing and apt ones I have ever come across.

It said: If I could get a grip of reality, I'd choke it.

Haha.

Very, very little days left till promos.

At certain points of time, I am gripped with this immense fear of failing possibly every subject. I try not to do that too often, as it may have seriously detrimental effects on my psychological well-being. And somehow, ending up in an asylum seems worse than failing promos. I really try to work hard... Why do I feel so sleepy nowadays??? I reach home, fall asleep for two or three straight hours, and when I wake up, I panic like hell.

If only I were braver. If I only I didn't care to be different. Then it wouldn't matter if I got retained and had to stay an extra year. It would only enforce my knowledge of my subjects, possibly enabling me to do the S papers I want. But how can I bear being in J1 all over again? How about the torture of being spoken about and looked down upon by my current peers? Sad to say, I wouldn't be able to handle such a situation very well.

I suppose, to different extents, we're all scared of falling out from the norm. I really, really wish I weren't. It would make life much more painless, don't you think? If you didn't care at all what other people think, life would be very much easier. You wouldn't worry about how you think this person hates you for doing this or how that person thinks you look stupid.

I wish I had more courage... But it's so bloody hard to be brave. Especially when you always think you're small and insignificant. It really frustrates me sometimes. I know courage is not the absence of fear, but the knowledge that something else is more important than fear... And I think I would have enough courage when something close to my heart is threatened. I just hope I'll have the courage to face life when things don't go my way.

Ah sigh.

Time to get back to work.

(It's really scary how most things nowadays seem to me to link to Lymond in some way or other. For instance, if we're discussing good leadership in GP class, I'd think of how Lymond is far more demagogic than Hitler and as selfless as Ghandi. Or if I'm pondering about the concept of courage, I think about Philippa. In fact, almost every possible literature theme seems to exist in Lymond... Courage, death, love, honour, leadership, loyalty, friendship, mother-child relationship, betrayal, depression, tragedy... crap, even politics. What doesn't it have? No wonder I link practically everything to it...)

I knew I'd get some comment from a Lymond fan one day. Try typing Lymond in yahoo. My blog appears somewhere. There are not enough Lymond sites on the net.

Anyway, time to post:

'The Story of Wabbit'.

Written by Me, Eunice and Victoria in between classes in Sec 4 2003.

Jimmie was flying a kite in the garden when suddenly, he heard a whisper behind the bush.

He turned around sharply but could not see anything. A shiver ran down his spine...

... and up his spine again. His mum was calling for him. "Jimmy, dear boy, it's time for lunch!"

"I want to play with my kite!" Jimmy shouted back. "Not hungry, Mum!" He turned his attention back to the bush, looking hard for... something.

Then he spotted it. It. It.. It... It was a...

rabbit. "But a rabbit can't whisper, can it?" Jimmy thought. It was getting ridiculous. Rabbits cannot talk. "Hehe..." giggled the rabbit. Jimmy's heart skipped a beat.

The rabbit looked back at him with one beady eye, its buck teeth exposed as it grinned mischievously. I'm no ordinary rabbit. That's right, I'm a wabbit."

"Yes, I am a wabbit now... but look here, I transform!" *For those who don't know, wabbit = rabbit which can transform* To Jimmy's amazement, the rabbit grew bigger and bigger, then "PUFF", a magic cloud of dust and behold, there was a pretty lady there. She dressed in red. Red stockings too.

The lady looked kind of out of place in the beautiful red gown. Jimmy thought, "She looks rabbit-y."

"What are you...?" Jimmy asked.

"I've told you already," the lady said irritably. "I'm a wabbit." Jimmy then realised what it was that had let him to get the impression of her being rather rabbit-y. Her two front teeth were awfully big and abnormally off white. Did he mention they were extremely large?

His Mum was calling him again. "Jimmy, dear boy, time for lunch! I've prepared steak, baked potato, pizza, fries, hamburger... and your favourite ice cream!" Jimmy rolled his eyes. WHAT A NAG! Then the rabbit/lady/rabbit spoke.

"Is that what you eat? It's disgusting. Come with me... I'll show you something... Something much more delicious."

"Bring me where?" Jimmy asked. "What do you eat?"

"Follow me," the wabbit said, beckoning Jimmy towards the edge of the garden. Jimmy walked after her, his mother rattling off his list of favourite food.

"Here!" The wabbit exclaimed, pointing to a huge hole in the ground. She jumped in.

Jimmy tumbled through. He felt like Alice tumbling through the rabbit hole in Wonderland.

He landed with a soft 'thump'. OH MY GOSH! It was a dungeon!!! Captives were screaming, moaning, their arms stretching out.

Jimmy's voice was caught in his throat. His legs felt like jelly. He spotted wabbit a few metres away. It was no longer a lady. It had transformed back into a rabbit. A HUGE ONE. Its bunny teeth looked sharp. "Get behind the bars!" The wabbit ordered Jimmy, eyes fiery red. "You wanna know what I eat? I eat human flesh! Muahahahaha!"

Thankfully, just like Wonderland, ANYTHING could happen. Suddenly, finding himself armed with a brilliant adamantium sword, Jimmy shouted, "BRING IT ON!"

A battle followed, but the fighting skills of wabbit and Jimmy were equal. Exhausted, they slumped to the floor. Jimmy exclaimed, "I know! Let's end this with tic tac toe, my favourite game of all time." They took some chalk and started the game on the floor. Jimmy first. (By scissors, paper, stone game.)

*Here, Vic drew a tic tac toe game. And Jimmy wins.*

"AHA!!!" Jimmy cried out triumphantly. The wabbit looked devastated. Its face crumpled and it burst into tears. The whole dungeon fell silent as the prisoners stopped to watch in amazement.

Then the scene before his eyes disappeared and Jimmy found himself on a volcanic slope, face to face with the evil wabbit (or perhaps the only wabbit) yet AGAIN. "Muahahahahaha..."

"You think I will be conquered? Not that easy, boy! I took on your game, now I take control. Muahahahaha x 1000! Well, you see that crater? Jump in!" Commanded the wabbit.

Jimmy hesitated.

"After you," Jimmy said finally. "I've been brought up to be a gentleman."

"Jump in, I tell you!" Shrieked the wabbit, becoming angry with Jimmy.

"No, I insist, my dear wabbit," Jimmy said, as though they were anywhere else but on top of a volcano.

"Hey... Wait a minute," said Jimmy. "How old am I?"

"Who cares?" The wabbit answered. Suddenly Jimmy recalled that he had not had his lunch. His stomach rumbled. What should he eat? Hmm...

"I know!" Jimmy shrieked.

He grabbed the wabbit by its long ears and brought it over the crater of boiling lava. "I feel like some rabbit soup," he announced.

With that, he dumped the rabbit in and a ladle magicaly appeared. He drank the soup. Yum yum. And fished out the rabbit (roasted one) to bring back to his Mum.

As all stories go, he appeared back in the garden. Jimmy ran towards the house and shouted, "Mum, dear Mummy, forget bout those steak and fries... I have a roasted rabbit here!"

- And so ENDs our silly chain story. -

The rabbit should have been boiled, did you notice? It was boiled in lava. And notice how Eunice's part always tend to move towards Alice in Wonderland. Haha. Had a lot of fun doing this anyway.

I hate superposition. It is driving me nuts. And I am only at the stationary waves part. Don't bloody mention intereference or diffraction yet. Yuck, yuck, yuck. Ugh. I am struggling to finish studying all my subjects. Simultaneously.

And yet I still come here. It keeps me sane, I think. Besides, a life unexamined is not worth living.

I had a very fun civics lesson today! Laughed so much. We played a very interesting game called Suaku. Ms Lo distributed 5 M&Ms to each of us. And we were not to eat any of it yet. After that, taking turns, everyone had to say aloud what they haven't done before. For instance, you could say, "I haven't been on a rollercoaster before." In response to this, the rest of the class is to stand up if they have ridden a rollercoaster. And eat one M&M. At the end of it all, the person with the most M&Ms left is labelled a suaku.

Oh my goodness. We had so much fun. The confessions ranged from, "I haven't eaten snails before" (To which a few people stood up and confessed to have eaten snails.) to "I haven't reared chickedns before" to "I haven't gone on a date before" (To which, sadly, no one responded.)

On my turn, the girls were squealing like crazy for me to say, "I haven't had a crush on anyone on this class before." We were trying to sabo some people you see... And so I did. But really... who would have confessed to have had a crush on a classmate... Only Addy put up her hand... And Joel stood up. A certain someone we're always teasing didn't. Haha.

Was hoping to reach home at 3 pm today. But unfortunately, the moment I stepped out of the MRT station, it started raining cats and dogs. Cursing, I made my way towards the bus interchange. I really hate taking the bus nowadays. I'd rather have a nice walk home. So I took the bus. And got off at a bus stop. (Goodness. Where else would I get off...) Following that, I tried to keep out of the rain as I made my way towards my block of flats. Walked round and round and back and forth, looking for those sheltered linkways. And there were huge mighty puddles everywhere. Halfway through it all, I started laughing at myself. It really was pretty funny... That's the problem with myself. I have no problem laughing on my own. And God forbid anyone might see me. I really am insane. (I still can't forget the way Stephanie looked at me and said, "Why are you smiling at your plate of noodles?" back in Sec 2.) Finally reached home at 3.40 pm.

Kindly contributed by Sowmya: A short fortune teller who has run away is a small medium at large.

I have been guilty of the one thing I'd been complaining about a few months ago. Blog hopping.

But I didn't plan to blog hop! It just happened accidentally-on-purpose. I was visiting a friend's blog. A friend who I know pretty well. And I saw a link at her blog that made my eyes go wide. I was thinking, why should she be linked to this person? And I just kept clicking. And gasping. And clicking. And gasping. And I ended up at a blog far from the first person.

Felt a bit guilty.

But also felt enlightened. There are people out there who are really pretty good writers. And are able to express certain things I can't. Ah. Such talent.

I also realised that all RJ students mention promos every two entries at least. Or something about studies. I wonder if that happens for say, students from the UK. I wonder.

Am feeling pretty scared as well. Who knows who has read my ridiculous blog, which only existed for myself and close friends. Wish I had some way of tracking the people who have visited.

And people talk a lot about school. 80% about school.

I seem to split it half-half with books and fiction. Which proves how much I live in the dream world.

I suddenly recalled Yea Tian's beautiful poem entitled, 'apple'.

do you see?

that is why I close my eyes.

My previous entry won't appear. Why. Don't let blogger mess up my blog...

Had the Mendaki Awards Presentation today. Saw Adibah. The first time in 3 years... or is it 4? I couldn't believe she's not taller than me. I thought everyone would outgrow me by this time. It's weird. She still seems the same although she is different. Think I have her on my msn list now.

Hate wearing stockings. Hate the idea of being so formal. Ugh. Was so glad to get out of my blazer and skirt.

Don't really have mood to blog.

Am so glad both Turk and Duck have decided to give Lymond a try. Jubilation! One day I might actually be able to talk about it and not just read and write.

My sister was digging through her drawer and came across an old tiny notebook we doodled in. The contents pretty much made me burst out laughing... I really have no recollection of doing such ridiculous things. It's a stupid conversation thing between my sister and me. It starts and ends abruptly and we think some of the pages have been torn away or something. In it, we're pretending to be other things... She's a chick and I keep switching identities... All the parts in green font are my sister's.

But why? Chickies are cute. Compared to a monkey like you!

A monko is not a monkey. A monko is a magical being born from the horn of a unicorn when sunlight strikes it at just the right angle - 38.67 degrees. So it should be clear that I am a rare creature. I am more intelligent than any centaur, man or wizard. But I cannot be seen by the naked eye. I only take up various forms... like a mist, or in this case, beautifully carved out words.

Wadeva Monkey! *shows the L sign wif finger*

I can see that your brain incapacity does not allow you the privilege of opening up your mind to the unusual, to the OUT OF THIS WORLD. You are so blind. That's why you're a chick. That's why all you have is yellow fluff on your pathetic skin. That's why all you're destined for is laying eggs in your stinky coop. You're too small and insignificant to be of importance to a monko. I have wasted my precious time. What a grievous fault to have spoken to you at all. GOODBYE.

*sniffles* WAAA! Why u have to be so meeeeaaannn!!! I HATE MONKOS.

Hello. I am a badger. Would you like to talk to me? Stop crying and I might make you a peanut butter sandwich. *smiles kindly and pats chick on the head* There, there.

Ok. WOW. YOU HAVE LOTS OF BADGES. No wonder your name is badger. COOL!

You are so corny. For that I give you some corns.

I thought you were gonna gimme some peanut butter sandwich? Thx anyway.

Bye. I have to meet foxie, my friend.

Can I see him too?

No. He's shy. You should go back to your coop.

No. I will follow you!

*BANG!*

*Badger shoots chick with pistol. Chick dies instantly.*

*open eyes slowly* Am I in heaven?

"You're in hell, buster!" Said an ugly demon whose appearance was so revolting, it is impossible to describe in words. "You have been too pesky. And for that, BURN WORTHLESS CHICK!"

END

My sis says she recalls us doing that when I was studying. Which explains the pesky part. And my insistence on ending the silly conversation.

Really amusing.

One day I will post the Wabbit story done by Vic, Turk and me in between classes last year.

Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away.

I want to list out the moments in my life that have taken my breath away. As far as I can remember, that is. Here goes.

The time my family went to the southernmost tip of Australia, Albany, and I stood at the edge of a cliff. The ocean waves were crashing on the rocks below. It was about 7 pm. And the sun was setting. The weather was perfect. It was in short, breathtaking.

The time when we were driving back to Perth after the visit to the Albany coast and it was pitch dark on both sides of the country road. I was sitting at the back of the van. I tilted my head back to look out of the window and was astounded by the number of stars in the night sky. I never knew you could see so many stars! Of course I knew there are millions of stars in the universe... But I didnt know you could see that many from the surface of the Earth. And they seemed so close! I remember thinking... If I reached out far enough, I could pluck out one star from the sky...

The time I first set my eyes on DOT, the website my dearest bird friends created for my 16th birthday. I was thinking, 'They did this for me? They did this for me?'

The time I found out DM got AIDS.

The time I found out DM did not actually have AIDS.

The time I saw the DM lookalike at Orchard MRT station. I completely freezed up.

The first time I touched snow. Went onto the ice plateau on Jungfraujoch, Switzerland, and the wind almost knocked me off my feet.

The time my great grandmother died. She was the first person I knew who passed away. I remember how surreal the situation felt...

The time Pakcik Mail died. He died so suddenly, in his sleep, because of pneumonia and malnourishment. Yes, he was old. But... we never expected it.

The time when my sis and me were in the car at a petrol station in Bukit Timah. My dad was paying. And one of the Shell employees shouted 'Fire! Fire!' My heart just jumped up my throat. My dad rushed into the car and we drove off. Without paying. There was actually a tiny fire in a drain nearby but they managed to put it out before anything happened.

The time I took a rollercoaster ride which went backwards. I couldn't scream for a moment. But after a while, I did.

That's all for now...

This is from Checkmate, Lymond. I love the nickname... Yunitsa means cow in Russian. But it was also the name the Tsar called one of his wives, I think, and can mean sweetheart. Francis used it after he and Philippa shared a joke about cows. Only Philippa never thought it could have double meaning... So Francis keeps calling her that, and she never picks up the hint. Not that Francis wanted to actually hint her... I suppose it gives him some satisfaction to call her something affectionate without her knowing it.

The following series of pictures were meant for an assignment for a photography workshop I attended this past few weeks. The instructor, Nic, gave 4 themes. At first, I chose the one entitled 'Red'. Almost everyone did that. Afterwards, I discovered that finding red things in my house wasn't as easy a task as I thought it would be. So I decided to choose one of the other themes - 'There's Something About Me'. Each of the 7 photos I took says something about what I love, like, do or am obsessed about in my life.

If you know me, you will sort of roll your eyes at certain things... Anyway, just enjoy!

You can tell me what you think.

They see not what I see

The Art of Studying

Lymond and Chess

Keys

JKR

Cluttered Me

Chapter 17 of My Life

Sis...

More pictures at the beach. Those are my sister's legs, in case you were wondering... And playing at the beach was so darn fun! The wind was fantastic and the sand so soft. Of course, I didn't play soccer... but we played other stuff. Something the elders called 'jelun', which required two opposing teams to block and prevent each other from getting to one end of the playing area. Quite hard to describe. But it involved a whole lot of screaming and falling over, which was no problem since we were in the open and like I said, the sand was soft. Southeast Asia can be beautiful too, despite all the heat and sweat. Just go to the beaches... A warning though. It gets pitch black at night.

IMPORTANT NOTICE:

My guestbook icon has disappeared. Don't know how that happened. But if you have something to say to me, click on the comment button after each entry. Thanks!

I have managed to install bloggerbot in my new laptop! So happy. So pics can keep coming. :)

I'm much too distracted right now to blog...

Ladida.

Cracked seashell on a beach in Cherating. I like the way the grains stand out on the white surface of the shell...

I can't help it. I know I've read it before. But it's still so hilarious...

"Look, you whinging, pie-faced newt, this isn't about you, this is about me. Why would any girl go out with every boy on this campus, and yet neglect me, when I'm obviously the handsomest bloke at this school and in fact for several surrounding counties?"

"THINK A LOT OF YOURSELF, DON'T YOU, MALFOY? BOY, DOES THAT MAKE ME SICK."
"Does anything not piss you off?" Draco wondered aloud.

Harry paused and thought for a moment. "I don't mind Hedwig," he said finally, in a normal voice. "She's a good listener."

Draco blinked. "You're barmy, Potter," he said, in a more respectful voice than he'd ever used towards Harry before.

*

"WHY THE HELL IS MALFOY ORANGE?" he demanded of no one in particular. He glared around at his silent classmates. "FINE, DON'T TELL ME. NOBODY EVER TELLS ME ANYTHING."

" Mister Malfoy," Flitwick squeaked. "Ten points from Slytherin for upsetting Harry and coming to class orange. Now sit down"

Actually did some PW. Unbelievable. Sat in front of computer and crapped everything I knew about henna. There's something about the keyboard which makes my creative juices flow... Give me a pen and paper and I'll fall asleep. But give me my blogger account and there I go, typing away merrily...

Hectic day today. Got home and felt like I had been shredded to pieces. Felt that tired. Must have been all that PW. Must have been!

And there's chem mock SPA tomorrow and I have virtually no idea how to do it. And neither have I completed my tutorials for tomorrow. How is it humanely possible for me to do everyhing by tomorrow morning? And it's 11.26 pm now. Oh... why doesn't the school catch fire or something... Goodness.. that's a bad thing to wish. I take it back.

Janicia was one more from the group of stressed out people in school. (Hey, everyone's stressed out now.) She was writing a sort of timetable for tonight and I saw her assigning work for 2 am, 3.30 am and so on. And I couldn't help but exclaim, "Oh my god! Please remember to sleep!" And she laughed. Ah well. At least, I gave her some amusement.

And now I shall remember my own sleep. Whatever shall befall me tomorrow, let it be. I need to rest. Even my dad gets to sleep and I can't?! I only wake up a half hour later than he does and I get off school later than he gets off work.

I tell you, students are working 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. A 5 day week promised by PM Lee is pretty much impossible...

Everytime I visit Cassie's journal, I can't help but look at what all her fans are posting and saying and commenting. It is so very entertaining. And in case you didn't know, Cassie's going to publish her original fiction! I really, really am excited! She might still use Cassandra Claire as her pen name, but she says maybe not. Oh my goodness... I can't wait. And I don't even know what her story is supposed to be about!

The thing about Cassie is that... she knows a lot of things. She knows stuff. She reads practically everything, watches every movie or show worth watching... And she always manages to make any topic interesting. I read the characteristics of Draco and Harry list again... it's so sad... and funny too.

The reason I'm in front of the computer is because I'm supposed to be doing PW... But I really have no idea what to write... and everything else online is so distracting.

Wish I could be like Cassie. Sit at home all day and write. That's what she's doing now, apparently. And she likes it.

I want to write!!! I want to write! I need to write. I have to finish certain things... ARGH.

Yesterday's Teacher's Day was pretty interesting. Had ACES workout. Which is more or less a disaster... For the fact that practically everyone was backing away from the flagpoles, and people were running off to disappear somewhere. It really is very sad. I wanted to support those councillors but it still feels stupid to be doing the workout in front... But luckily, the girls in my class (the ones who actually turned up) walked up in front together. And did it together. Laughing throughout. But at least we did it.

Then there was the concert. The teachers were great. They put in a lot of effort, considering how much marking and SPA-ing they had to do already. And somehow I felt everyone was still not appreciative. Applause was half-hearted. There was no cheering for your teachers. It was all pretty sad. I miss the whole screaming your hearts out thing at RG. That was fun! Is it the boys? Are boys really that boring? And is it because the boys aren't enthusiastic, the girls feel they shouldn't be too? Or is it just the behaviour of 17 year olds? 'Hey, we're practically adults now, why should we be screaming like little kids'? It's all in the name of fun, WHAT! Grace is wonderful... She was the one who kept cheering on... I just wonder where all her spirit comes from. Ms Lo was so daring. Yes... she revealed the bimbo in her... Heh. And Mr McTay is simply amusing. I don't know... I think it's the way he walks, his expression or maybe how he seems to be oblivious to his surroundings. The moment McTay was announced, I looked at Nikki and she said, "Koory poof!" Hahaha.

After that we had the class party. To think that we were afraid there wouldn't be enough food. We had too MUCH! We kept donating to people. People kept popping into our room too, hearing about the pizza. But there was still so much left. We had two unopened tins of cookies, uncountable packets of crackers, one tray of brownie, 3 bottles of gassy drink and one box of pizza. Shafia said we have enough to last till half of next year. Haha. The biscuits are currently residing in Jean's locker.

And 10.40 am, me, addy and nikki set off for our respective ex-schools. Nikki, to cedar and addy and me back to qiaonan, not rg. Felt a bit guilty for not going back to my secondary school, but really, who am I actually dying to see? Truly, no one. Of course, it'd be nice to see some teachers... my cikgus, ms leow maybe, mdm yeo, who have been nice to me... But... I wouldn't know what to say! I mean, throughout my four years in RGS, I haven't been close to any of the teachers and suddenly I'm coming back and being all buddy-buddy and I-miss-you-teachers-so-much ing? Not bloody likely. If I had gone back there with Lilian and co, the most I would do is stand around and smile. A tag-along, in short.

So I went back to my primary school. It never ceases to amaze me how much one thing can change and yet how it still seems the same. The uncle who sells the drinks has a fantastic memory. He still remembers me and addy! He still does. Everytime I come back, he remembers. Bought a peel fresh drink like I always used to back then. The tables seem really small. Addy and me kept recalling all the food we used to eat... how delicious it was... and how cheap! The first stall now has halal tim sum! I can't believe it. The uncle there is the same too. And oh my god. The cleaner lady is the same.

Saw Mrs Choo, who besides her increasing number of white hairs, looks the same. When we came at 12 o'clock, she was still teaching. (They had lessons! Poor things.) So we hung around till 1.15 when they would be done. Saw Ms Chua, the music teacher. She has really grown older... Mdm Sutinah, Mrs Vera Tan (who doesn't seemed to have aged a day!) and Mrs PC Tan. She taught us Social Studies and I'd forgotten how much we loathed her! Until she started talking on and on. I don't hate her now of course, but when I remembered how much we used to dread her lessons, I really wanted to laugh. Everything seems so funny. She just loves to talk! Goodness... she would ramble on about this niece, that relative, who she knew was in university now... but she has always been nice. But I remember that when she became angry, it was scary.

When it was finally past 1.15, and we could talk to Mrs Choo... there was stiff competition. Practically EVERY STUDENT IN SIGHT wanted to talk to Mrs Choo. That's how popular she is. But Addy and me, being the oldest, won. She talked to us first. Asked about JC life... talked of a future gathering where everyone would come. And all the while, students walking past said hi to her, passed her presents... students wearing unknown uniforms even... Students from everywhere, who remember her. It really is amazing. To the extent that she would forget some of them... We had a lot of fun trying to remember the name of a boy who came up to her. With spiky hair and who was supposedly dressed 'coolly'. At first I had no idea who he was, then it struck me. And I said, unable to stop myself, "Oh my God!" He looked so different! Besides the fact that he was much taller (he used to be shorter than me, so imagine my surprise), he was just so changed from his nerdy, prefect self. He is 2 years my junior. So Sec 3 now. And I remember how he used to take the same school bus home. And I stood there, pretty much shocked. Boys really change a lot when they grow up. When I think of it, if I haven't been seeing my brother every day, I'd have freaked out by the way he's changed over the years.

So... we had a good chat with Mrs Choo. Hugged her a couple of times. Laughed at a few things. I gave her my present. And then we let her attend to her other students. My sister was around too and she went to see Mrs Choo as well. According to her, there was a queue of people to see Mrs Choo. I suppose this is the reward for being a dedicated teacher. And I don't think she'd want to be anything else. She's made to teach and inspire.

Some teachers have their share of fans too. But the thing that makes Mrs Choo so loved is perhaps because of her capacity to care. She cares for everyone. And she shows it. When we had a class, she used to be concerned about each student. We had a lot of fun with her. Normally, teachers tend to have favourites. The smart ones. The ones who participate. The ones who ask questions. The extroverted ones. And it's fine. It's natural to be more attentive of those who speak up, who make themselves heard. But Mrs Choo somehow reached out to everyone. Me, the quiet, meek one. Though I suppose I could classify as the one who always got high marks... hey primary school what. But even the 'mat's! The naughty kids. The delinquents. THEY COME BACK. Because, I suppose, they appreciate her. Half of my class isn't pursuing a college course. A lot are in polytechnic. Some have started working. A few Cambodians have gone to their native country to work. But we all remember her. Of course, this year, my batch didn't really turn up... but we're going to have a gathering. I hope it materialises. It will be exciting to see how everyone is now.