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.