Snag a shot

I shall start atoning for my absence in the blogging scene for such a revoltingly long period of time. Expect another slew of personal reflections, anecdotes and what not.

I realized the importance of hearing multiple opinions on a subject you are in doubt of. These sound opinions which have gone through the filters of various rational thinking heads then form a collective and united voice, to guide you out of the abyss of uncertainty, to the enlightening rays of light. This could only mean one thing: an effective support group has been established right in the heart of A14. Cheers.

Let’s see what this blog has missed out so far.
- My wonderful birthday(a tribute to all my beloveds out there)
- School days which are thumping with heart throbbing life now
- The many outings with Comrade
- The March holidays – an extravagant shopping trip in Ipoh( not really on hindsight)
- Atrocities I’ve committed in and out of school so far( accounts on my obliging accomplices too)
- Primary1 best buddies reunion( Amanda! I know you want this!)
I guess that kind of sums it all up at one go.

Today, there was an indoctrination session during the ongoing PW lesson. People were sprawled over the LT, on benches and tables, a scene reminiscent of the decadent Spartan nobility.
“ Think of yourself as Her Highness, in possession of supreme power and control”
“ You shall be above all minions, no one shall triumph over you”
“ Hail, Queen.”

Hmm. The reason why I’ve decided to start blogging again is because I want to be held liable for the things I say. Writing a diary often amounts to self deception. You could be really harsh on yourself, say things that would probably deflate your own ego, when you know deep down that it might not the case. Thing is, no one can interfere and save the poor soul from self inflicted critique. What goes on a blog are moderated reflections, you tend to be less extreme, more kind and forgiving to yourself, because you want to publish content that is less likely to raise concern among readers - a more universally accepted version of things. Wait, this does not imply that what I post here is entirely fiction or that I’ll desert my pretty diary sitting on my desk right now.

What a load of nonsense. =/

=)
Jiawei

Spring Opens

Wow. I must really apologise for taking such a long break off blogging. Life’s never been this exciting. This is The Swinging Seventeen.

I’ve been with my new classmates for more than 2 weeks now and everyday I go to school, I love them more and more. The teachers are great too. Every lecture has a joke session inserted into it. Our lecturers’ are collectively this troupe of quirky individuals, never happy with just droning on about academic content. Mr Barnard has a huge ego. He shows off his beer belly by paralleling it with the production possibility curve which illustrates changing opportunity cost. He keeps emphasizing that he was a dashing male once upon a time and had to be especially sensitive among swooning females. Next is Mr Burge who is the epitome of divinity. Our discussions with him during KI lessons are always the breeding grounds for astonishing ideas. He speaks with conviction and we’re always drawn into his grey eyes, immersed in his intellectual world. But the flip side is that there is no variation of the tone in his voice. Sleepy people are bound to sleep through the entire lesson. My favourite is Mr Miles. I’ve officially enrolled myself into Miles Fan Club. Other than stating historical facts, he pumps in anecdotes about his adventures in various South East Asian countries. That includes how he got himself half smeared in human waste while cruising down the Ayeyawaddy River in Myanmar. Long and gross story. We twisted our abdomen muscles while laughing and my hands were paralysed throughout the rest of the lesson. Last on the list is Mr Perry. He is our Literature teacher so whatever he says is fiction.

Tuesday night, 24th Jan , I saw the Backstreet Boys. The sight of them brought back waves of nostalgia cos their songs were tailed by memories of my primary school days. The whole experience was made better with Clique and comrade. Till now, I wish they would sing me to sleep every night. =p Ok, that sounds really wrong and pathetic.

I went back to msia as usual this year for Chinese New Year. Only this time, I felt different. There was more vibe to everything and that includes helping out in the preparation for reunion dinner. I like washing vegetables when there are tons of bugs for you to pick out! Its cheap thrill you know. Even a few mozzie bites was worth it. At night, the temperature dipped. I couldn’t help coming out of the house to enter the cradle of coolness.The black of the night was rivaled by the lighted decorations left overnight. Red lanterns illuminated by florescent bulbs within formed uniformity among all the residences. Only the street lamps sparsely rooted along the lines of houses acted as ally to the lanterns. The scent of blossoming jasmine flowers in my Uncle’s garden was subtle yet imposing. It made star-gazing even more romantic. Did you know, I’ve never been to a place that had brighter stars. Over there, every sparkle against the dark sky was like a bride’s 10 carat diamond ring.

Anyway, at midnight, I was under the ceiling fan, on my cousin’s cosy bed reading. The multitude of explosions from outside was ceaseless, each series contributed to the mounting joyous atmosphere. It is never going to be anything like that here. Local CNY has always been ushered in by silent sparklers, waved around by children deprived of loud sparks.

My birthday’s approaching!! I can start singing Sound of Music’s ‘Sixteen going on Seventeen’!! lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala.



Its dangerous dabbling into the future, especially when we predict things so conveniently.

Spring Opens

Spring Opens

Wow. I must really apologise for taking such a long break off blogging. Life’s never been this exciting. This is The Swinging Seventeen.

I’ve been with my new classmates for more than 2 weeks now and everyday I go to school, I love them more and more. The teachers are great too. Every lecture has a joke session inserted into it. Our lecturers’ are collectively this troupe of quirky individuals, never happy with just droning on about academic content. Mr Barnard has a huge ego. He shows off his beer belly by paralleling it with the production possibility curve which illustrates changing opportunity cost. He keeps emphasizing that he was a dashing male once upon a time and had to be especially sensitive among swooning females. Next is Mr Burge who is the epitome of divinity. Our discussions with him during KI lessons are always the breeding grounds for astonishing ideas. He speaks with conviction and we’re always drawn into his grey eyes, immersed in his intellectual world. But the flip side is that there is no variation of the tone in his voice. Sleepy people are bound to sleep through the entire lesson. My favourite is Mr Miles. I’ve officially enrolled myself into Miles Fan Club. Other than stating historical facts, he pumps in anecdotes about his adventures in various South East Asian countries. That includes how he got himself half smeared in human waste while cruising down the Ayeyawaddy River in Myanmar. Long and gross story. We twisted our abdomen muscles while laughing and my hands were paralysed throughout the rest of the lesson. Last on the list is Mr Perry. He is our Literature teacher so whatever he says is fiction.

Tuesday night, 24th Jan , I saw the Backstreet Boys. The sight of them brought back waves of nostalgia cos their songs were tailed by memories of my primary school days. The whole experience was made better with Clique and comrade. Till now, I wish they would sing me to sleep every night. =p Ok, that sounds really wrong and pathetic.

I went back to msia as usual this year for Chinese New Year. Only this time, I felt different. There was more vibe to everything and that includes helping out in the preparation for reunion dinner. I like washing vegetables when there are tons of bugs for you to pick out! Its cheap thrill you know. Even a few mozzie bites was worth it. At night, the temperature dipped. I couldn’t help coming out of the house to enter the cradle of coolness.The black of the night was rivaled by the lighted decorations left overnight. Red lanterns illuminated by florescent bulbs within formed uniformity among all the residences. Only the street lamps sparsely rooted along the lines of houses acted as ally to the lanterns. The scent of blossoming jasmine flowers in my Uncle’s garden was subtle yet imposing. It made star-gazing even more romantic. Did you know, I’ve never been to a place that had brighter stars. Over there, every sparkle against the dark sky was like a bride’s 10 carat diamond ring.

Anyway, at midnight, I was under the ceiling fan, on my cousin’s cosy bed reading. The multitude of explosions from outside was ceaseless, each series contributed to the mounting joyous atmosphere. It is never going to be anything like that here. Local CNY has always been ushered in by silent sparklers, waved around by children deprived of loud sparks.

My birthday’s approaching!! I can start singing Sound of Music’s ‘Sixteen going on Seventeen’!! lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala.



Its dangerous dabbling into the future, especially when we predict things so conveniently.

We Belong Together

First week of life in JC is dedicated to Orientation. It is also the period where I start to feel Disorientated. Suddenly, you are bombarded with so many foreign names and new faces. There’s this uneasiness of being dressed in Convent Blue. I shall not dwell too much on school. It’s going to be an integral part of my life for the next two years, not too good to bore yourself from the start.

After 4 mind-boggling days at an institution of education, I was so relieved that I could look forward to our bimonthly gatherings. No company could beat that, except maybe certain ones could be on par. Anyway, it was a session for complaints and grievances to be aired out, for semi-diehard fans to croon and stretch their voices, for some rolling-on-the-floor action and ‘Truth or Truth’ games. We used Lizard’s pointed tale and the game of Blackjack to decide our defenseless victim by the way.

After the usual dinner fare, a good movie was played out under circumstances with the faint-hearted in mind. The lights were off, the temperature was cold and it was raining outside. The targeted few were affected the way we wanted. =) Of course, what movie could be good without pillows to hug and chocolate to chew on?

This weekend, I’ve had two lovelorn persons bare their broken soles to me. Luckily, I’m a trained cobbler apt at handling such cases. With thread and needle in hand, stitching up those torn places was a delicate job. The soles got repaired in the end and I guess they are in pretty good shape now.
Note: soles and souls.

Seriously, the prospect of having 6 of us in a row together, ‘tasting sweat’(courtesy of Hairin), getting high and having the time of our lives, is just incredible. I love you, you, you, you, you, you, you and YOU.

Fancy Food

Apologies for taking ages to come up with another entry. The urge to blog seemed to have died for the past month and I had been pretty comfortable just manually updating my own diary in the form of a stack of pages. I thought I would have been able to belch out a nice review on my trip to Cambodia within days of my return but it didn't turn out to be that way. Memories of that place were like infinite particles of dust, randomly existing and floating around in the void of my memory bank. I had to wait for them to settle into a neat pile, before stirring them up slightly to write this entry. If I had done so any earlier, the memories wouldn't come as smoothly. I would have to perform some dust-catching stint. Dirty work you know.

In the footsteps of the Khmer Rouge.

First, the response was ‘Wow, mission trip? How interesting.’. This is what I got when I told people that Cambodia would be my holiday destination. I came back on Thursday and they queried about my experience. When I told them I thoroughly enjoyed myself and even recommended them to go there, it was ‘Are you crazy?’. But believe me, Cambodia’s a place you must visit at least once is your life.

The highlight of the whole trip was Angkor city. I think there's this serious misconception that the ancient ruins belong to one structure - Angkor Wat. Well, in actual fact, the whole area was an ancient city equipped with a complex water supply system, defense barriers and lots of palaces and temples. I only discovered about this when i decided to adopt the Curious-Tourist-Attitude and listened intently to the soft-spoken tour guide. You see, he didn't have a loud voice so we had to strain our ears. It was a difficult task to really pay attention because the things framed up by the windows of the tour bus were way more captivating. They all seemed to have already had a voice of their own, beckoning the ignorant to themselves. Nevertheless, Mr Guide knew the whole place like the back of his palm which I thought was totally cool. He could explain the carvings on the walls, the ancient wordings and every statue or monument that is still intact. It was like attending history class, the lesson enhanced by evidence that is alive and artefacts that had the power to take your breath away and leave you gasping for more.

The next highlight was shopping. It is definitely not comfortable shopping with buoyant cold air around you. Shopping in Cambodia requires a certain level of tolerance from the shopper. You need to put up with the heat, the tiny spaces and the bad lighting. And last but not least, the all important thick skin for haggling. It is an essential thing to do at those local markets because the original price is always jacked up to a ridiculous level. At first, I couldn't get used to it because it was too much of a hassle. But subsequently, as I witnessed startling successful attempts that my mum made at reducing prices, I started to get the hang of it, even mastering the art of haggling with a touch of politeness. Both parties would end up reasonably satisfied. Profit made, goods sitting happy in the plastic bag.

How about food and accomodation? It was more than satisfactory. With Siem Reap(the province where Angkor wat is located, a 6 hour drive from the Phnom Penh) as the main tourist magnet, its streets were lined with impressive hotels built in Renaissance architectural styles. Alternatively, there were also hotels that probably served as a reminder of the grandeur that the ancient city once possessed. As we were ferried from our modest hotel to the various destinations, it dawned on me that the place was a tourist haven. The locals were most helpful, always eager to please you, determined to make you feel at home. The elephant riders that solicited for business were full of charm, accepting your rejection with grace. I was most impressed by the service provided by waiters in the restaurants. They made sure your request was fulfilled, making a commendable effort to overcome the huge obstacle that always stood in the way - communication.

While waiting at the immigration when we first set foot in Cambodia, I was reckless in speech, telling Dad that I would like to visit it again. He obviously dismissed it because we haven't even seen the country. One week later, we were once again at the airport. This time, I didn't had to say it. The rest of the family did the job.
-

2006

And so, 2005 slipped through my fingers. I wasn't even done with it yet. It had been an eventful year, packed with trials and tribulations, tailing off at last with so much fun. I welcome 2006 with anticipation and excitement because another chapter of life is about to unfold.
This festive season had been a quiet one for me. But with the peaceful silence comes a whole lot of love. The cosy Christmas Eve dinner with the family, the heart-warming gatherings with friends, the dizzy walks down pavements and the thoughtful greetings. I read about lonely souls who busy themselves by indulging in their own pathetic state, trying to drown the bitterness in alcoholic liquids. Irony is, the drink itself is bitter. We cannot help but feel sorry for these people. Then again, even as the bleakness of the social circle seem sad enough to evoke some tears, I still think that these people should take some initiative to show love, instead of waiting to receive love. It's a two way thing. I guess if they had taken the effort to send out Christmas cards, or be involved in some sort of mass celebration, it might not have been as bad. Of course, I'm not exactly in the best position to comment on this sort of phenomenon.

Remember the warped story of Bronze and Magenta? I revisited the place that inspired me to write that story just recently. I felt nostalgic on behalf of those 2 lovely charaters.

School's just slightly more than a day away. Get your shoes ready.

Some sauce on the skirt

Some options you may want to consider:
1) Visit www.barbie.com and order a custom-made doll. Choose black hair of course.
2) Go for a crash course on gymnastics. Learn to contort yourself into regular rectangles and squares.
3) Go for oil painting classes! Grab a photo and start copying! I would like to keep that portrait after you’re done with it.
4) Go back to school and make an appointment with your Physics teacher. Learn the details of molecular theories, especially on how matter changes its state. Those intricate details you know? Then go home and conduct an experiment – try melting yourself. Also make sure that you are viscous enough for easy scooping.
5) Risk abduction.

On our culturally polyglot island, I never fail to see a fusion of mixed styles in terms of fashion. On the train today, my eyes were left to roam about because my bag was too small to carry a book and I couldn’t occupy myself with reading.

The first person I thought was interesting was this old man. He was wheelchair-bound and seemed to have no other companion. I was awed at his independence. Talk about social studies. Remember the chapter on aging population and how the government encouraged individual responsibility? Well, this was a perfect example of how an elderly folk stood on his own feet. How ironic now.

Anyway, he wore maroon socks with PVC sandals and 2 bracelets made up of large amber beads on either hand. He also had large gold-rimmed square spectacles, which would have made a fashion statement if someone 50 years younger had donned them. His ears were elongated, the lobes could easily have reached 3 cm. And his eyebrows were so long, they entangled themselves at the ends. It was a benign sight to behold.

And then there was this Malay guy, I think. His eyes seemed so blank, I became so curious about them. But too bad they were obscured by feminine shades, I didn’t dare look too much into them. So I shifted my attention to his feet and found some really cool Aladdin slippers. As I worked my analysis up, I saw he wore tight jeans and a daring piece of beaded jewellery. The chain was made up of smaller strings of beads entwined together and its pendant was this huge brown plastic thing, something you might be able to make in the D&T lab. But the bottom line is, he’s a sure head-turner.

‘Just Like Heaven’ is a nice show, but a tad over rated, (by my friends). It had its fair share of comic moments and tear-evoking scenes, which served to entertain the audience quite sufficiently but I was expecting something more. The movie closed with a sweet ending and I left the cinema feeling lighthearted, enough to make me skip a step or two.

I’m going off to the Land of The Famous Temple tomorrow. I wonder what's in store for us. Till then, toodles! =)

The Blind Singers From Nagpur

It had been a fantastical whirlwind. All that we had worried and fussed over came to a final conclusion on a glamorous night. Satins, chiffons, silk and organza flirted with the cold crisp air of the ballroom. Everyone looked really pretty. For many, it was a baby step towards womanhood and I can proudly say that everyone had put a steady foot forward.

Dinner was predictable. It would have passed off as any wedding reception, except there were no out-to-sabotage-the-groom parties and of course, no groom. There were a few bride look-alikes however. It ended with all of us feeling half full and high in spirit. Not that there weren’t enough food to go around, most of us had post-dinner plans. So after the last round of photo taking, we went back to the hotel room and changed out of our frills. Time to crash a peaceful café and wreck its romantic atmosphere! We had the most scrumptious of desserts and the finest brew of coffees, I think. Ok, this is only justified by the price of them. Later, we hit kbox and the pool table, only to be thrown out of these two places by fearsome bouncers, in the form of price and age. Nevertheless, we still enjoyed ourselves hanging out in the open space, with some of our show-stopping hairstyles melting under the relentless pursuit of cold drizzle. We got into bed finally at 4 pm and woke at 8, me truly sleeping for a quarter of that time. I left the room with Jen and proceeded on to the next highlight of the day – softball match! We ended up dividing our attention among several things – the band playing Chinese music, the trackers’ weird training stunts, colourful trees ( I mean it) and a particular Indian guy that was fast becoming our softball idol. But alas! I found out that he wasn’t as pro as we thought him to be. About 200m from where the actions were executed, we sat there marveling at those quick legs, carrying the agile body from base to base. But it turned out, from careful analysis, that the fast legs were just an illusion. He had a very small stride, which made him seem like a fast runner from afar. The next highlight was Ikea, then Haagen Dazs then bus stop. Something embarrassing happened at the second place, but I shall not care to elaborate. =p

Jen, as you have all come to learned, is the security guard. One of the most prominent traits belonging to people in this profession is that they are serious. No-nonsense serious. So whatever they say, you better take it to heart. For me, it was a relief, like this big OK and GO AHEAD thing. I was smiling.

Prabaker said, “Motions into oceans, Lin”. Lol.