From the Intangible Depths

Snag a shot

2006-05-02T02:40:00.000-07:00

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

2006-02-04T00:50:00.001-08:00

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

2006-02-04T00:50:00.000-08:00

Spring Opens

2006-02-03T08:54:00.000-08:00

We Belong Together

2006-01-08T04:59:00.000-08:00

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

2006-01-01T05:56:00.000-08:00

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

2005-12-07T01:02:00.000-08:00

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

2005-12-05T02:53:00.000-08:00

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.

My Original Story

2005-11-25T23:19:00.000-08:00

Suddenly, I was flung into the arms of freedom.

I think I said something about how I can’t write about things that are supposedly momentous, things that most people will have a lot to write about. Maybe it’s because I can’t be bothered to recall everything that happened. Or maybe it’s because there are too many emotions involved, it’s limited by the variety of words.

Friday was the big day. I came home ‘running around like a lunatic’, even Mum was taken aback. The next day, we went out for almost the whole day together. It’s good when 2 people are happy. She’s willing to buy my stuff, I’m willing to wait for her to come out of the dressing room and sprinkle some comments over her outfit. I think everyone’s high because the exams are over. Right after Dad fetched us from the MRT, he asked, ‘anyone fancy Night Safari tonight?’. You should have seen the immediate response from The Backseat People.

I’ve been inspired by things I’ve witnessed. So let me tell you a story. Grab your pillows and snuggle up into them NOW. First, let me introduce the characters : Magenta and Bronze. Magenta’s the female, Bronze’s the male. I’ll narrate this in Magenta’s point of view because I’m more acquainted with female responses.

Magenta and Bronze were to meet one day. They found a spot beside the river and picked some food off the menu. The waitress was a Rolly Polly. She asked, ‘I’m taking the last order for Happy Hour. Do you guys want anything?’ Funny thing is, she could more or less tell that Magenta and Bronze were below the legal age for drinking. It was all for amusement anyway. They could tell, or maybe it was only Magenta because females tend to be more sensitive, that the waitress gave them special attention and was all too glad to fuel some special requests.

The food was sophisticated. Try imagining Japanese green soba noodles with your usual salad greens.

The sun went down throughout the course of dinner. By the time they were done, darkness had descended. The river scene was breathtaking. The black body of water was embellished with streaks of shimmering gold, reflections of the light parade on shore. Bronze and Magenta decided to take a post-dinner stroll. It was the smartest thing to do because the weather that night was especially pleasant. There was a comfortable coolness that trickled on the skin, plus a whiff of cold air that would trigger a reflex action – The Curl of Lips. So they treaded on the edge of the river for a while and stopped at a strategic spot to get a panoramic view of the scenery. Orange framed the city’s skyline. It was gorgeous.

As the surroundings overwhelmed their sight, a tensed silence was building up. Magenta felt uneasy yet at ease at the same time.

Suddenly, a joke was cracked. You would think that the tension was banished. But on the contrary, it made Magenta’s knees weak and finally, she lost her consciousness. Her legs gave way and her body slumped. She fell into the river.

Bronze saw the consequences of his action. He went berserk. Instinctively, he ripped off his shirt and jumped into the river, grasping the sinking body just in time before it got swallowed by the eternal black. He swam with all his might, gasping in short staccato breaths, still dumbfounded by the turn of events. It was supposed to be romantic.

Once they were both on land, Magenta regained her consciousness. She saw her hero in her eyes.

‘Hi, hero.’

They both blushed. Bronze took out something spectacular from his bag.

‘I think you need this.’

The sudden breeze took a few strands of Magenta’s wet hair in flight. Her eyes twinkled and she felt like a lucky character from one of those TV advertisements that portrayed bliss and happiness.

~ END ~

Astro’s bigger hand.

Mr Missus

2005-10-28T18:51:00.000-07:00

CRUNCH.

I’ve been bitten by the writing bug. It’s a vector that transmits the infectious write-a-lot-of-random-stuff virus.

Uncle Mobeen’s stall has spoilt my taste buds badly. They have become so accustomed to the unrivalled taste of the rich and smooth ginger tea, I’m sure no other teas from other places could replace the top notch it has earned in my heart. Affectionately known as ‘ice tea without ice’, (the uncle would understand what I want every time I place an order) which literally means cold tea without ice cubes in it, its delectable taste would be etched in my memory. My craving for it, after I graduate from St Nicks, would forever linger on.

~

The jet rays of the sun shot through the overhead canopy of foliage. She came out of her tent, fresh from deep slumber and let the warmth embrace her. It was her second night spent in the forest. As the damp undergrowth made squishy sounds with her every step, she drew in a deep breath. She liked the musky smell of barks and leaves, the humidity that draped itself over everything around her.

~

Fifty First Dates, a delightful romantic comedy about a man’s undying love for a psychologically handicapped woman. Not that the pretty dame is insane, but she suffers from short term memory loss, so the memory of the day’s events are completely erased when she falls asleep. Henry (Adam Sandlers) persistence and determination to win over Lucy (Drew Barrymore) is definitely admirable. Of course, we, common people of the modern society should be enabled to distinguish between fairy tales and documentaries. The incredible quality on Sandlers’ character has been deemed fictitious and impossible by me. So daydreaming girls out there who aspires to be The Lucky Girl, starring opposite Henry in real life, should step down from Cloud 9 and wake up. I say this after analyzing the movie for a day and a half. During the show, I must admit that I was drawn to Sandlers’ cute boyish grin and sincere gaze to think that someone like him might actually exist in the world. It did not help that Lucy, irresistible to his charms, fell in love with him every single day. Barry more portrayed this vulnerable babe really well, with her full lips curling into a sweet innocent smile every time she felt blissful. And there is always the large doe eyes, preserved from the days when Barrymore was still amidst the pandemonium of ET. She plays up the character’s femininity with charm and wit. In the film, I was envious of her long, blonde and messy curls which served to frame her face so perfectly. Why? Because it is so unlike my own hair. You see, we humans are never satisfied with what we have.

~

Food for thought: “Jokes are exaggerated truths.” – Mr Atkinson aka Mr Bean

Median range

2005-10-23T16:53:00.000-07:00

Let's try using short forms for certain phrases.
Here's the legend:
GND - Grad Night Dress
RC - Raffles City
LOE - Love On Earth
MH - Momentary Happiness
SC - Stage of Contemplation

Yesterday, I decided to buy the GND because i figured out that I would be too flustered to do so after the Os. It's impossible to get everything ready in 2 days you see, despite Comrade's insistence that it is possible. Anyway, Dad dropped us at RC and we headed straight to LOE to look. Mum's a regular there so she thought I'd be able to find something that's suitable. Oh well, how wrong. The place was mini and choices were limited. In the end, after shifting chiffons, satins and laces over my head for a few times, I gave up.

Next stop and our final stop was BLUM. There was something unique about it. Racks of clothing were arranged with spacious spaces between them. If you look closer, you will realise that there's no two pieces of clothing that's identical. Everything comes in one design, one size. So if you can't fit into something you like, then TOO BAD. Luckily, there's a service available called ALTERATION. Well, I only realised this when i attempted to put on a dress and come out of the fitting room looking quite covered up. The dresses were all too big! The sales assistant attending to us had a bunch of rubber bands around her wrist, ready to tie up the straps of the dress. She had a box of pins too, just in case i needed to have some extra pieces of cloth tucked away. And yes, everything came in handy. For a while, I thought I was a character in Moulin Rouge or Phantom of the Opera because she tugged so tightly around the waist, I almost couldn't breathe. You know, those dangerous corsets?

In the end, I settled with something. I was experiencing MH before the SC sunk in.
"Would this look too different from other GNDs?"

But after much persuation from Mum(her patience was running out) and the shop assistant, plus suggestions from another lady(whom I suspect is an exSN girl), I resigned to fate.

I saw gold and shoes and clutches!

Boil a Carrot

2005-10-21T23:00:00.000-07:00

Things and events are whooshing past in a fury!

You know, RELATIONSHIPS are the most important aspect in a person’s life. I got enlightened on that fact a few days ago. In the end, people won’t remember how well you scored in Physics. It’s your friendship to them that matters.

* 21/10 : The above is outdated. All the inspiration stemmed from Father Simon Pereira’s mass. The Youth Mission team made us sing sappy songs. I was the most emotionally unstable because I started tearing right at the beginning and everyone started patting my back. Dear friends, I know you were all trying to console me but unconsciously, it made it worse. Haha. There’s still graduation night. *shudders * Talk about a steady stream of wet mascara making their way down those blushed cheeks. The latest trend in make-up! *

Characters from fairy tale fantasies come alive! I visited this staff room today and a Hagrid-lookalike came to talk to me. Boy, was I intimidated. Then familiar faces started sprouting up from every corner I turn into. And I try to put some things away.

Today is Let’s-eat-ice-cream Day! Class ended later than usual, at about 7.45 and we trotted down to Ben and Jerry’s for a heavenly indulgence. We’re not rich people but we ate two full scoops each! Thanks to brilliant Marlene, who decided to flex her coupons. The people in aprons nearly slapped us. They became exasperated with our fickleness when we started talking in B&J language.

“Hmm, should I get Dublin Mudslide or New York Super Fudge Chunk?”
“Wait! How about Phish Food??”
“Oh!! Chunky Monkey!”

“Hello miss, make up your mind.”

“Sorry. But what recommendations can you make?”

* eyeballs shift and looks among the coloured tubs*

“Ok, I shall have Dublin Mudslide and Raspberry”

*she scoops generously and I smile*

On the benches, conversation was casual. I decided to keep the napkin as souvenir. Its brown and paperbag-looking. I like!

Iconic Shoes

2005-09-28T22:18:00.000-07:00

Prelims ended officially on Monday and I thought I would like to keep these post-prelim days in memory, just in case some years down the road, I start to reminisce about the past.

After we sweated it out for 2 hours in the presence of glaring math questions, it was finally time to relax those tensed muscles and give our brains a break. Cash-flow decadence. That’s the term to describe late Monday morning-evening. We gorged food down at Marche, not really caring how pricey some of the things on the menu were. And it was followed by more shopping because we were determined to lose those extra calories contributed by the tenacious desserts we had for lunch. Thanks guys, for coming with me to purchase Red Shoes. There was so much hype about it after that, with you all reminding me not to catch the movie with the same branding. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Love y’all.

For the last two days, we’ve been having JCs coming up to us, promoting themselves and at the same time beckoning us to be part of their family. This is the time when you see friends really snuggling up together on the floors of the Drama Studio, scrutinizing the various representatives and making informed choices that would determined their fate for the next 2 years. I could feel the strong sense of camaraderie and it somehow touches me. This wholesome goodness of human relations.

The Arts Faculty is for me. Sylvia and I have decided to be part of it together. Suddenly, when all the speakers talk about our future prospects, I see doors flying wide open, emanating blinding white light. They tell us to follow where our hearts want us to go, to pursue our genuine interests and take flight from there. Clichéd as it may seem, but I’m truly inspired.

The following paragraph is a tribute to my brothers. On Monday, while walking along the bustling streets, it suddenly occurred to me that my brothers may be the only people in the world who can really put up with me at home. They do things for me that I don’t think even my future life partner would. Let me cite an example. Last Friday, I was running late for tuition and I forgot to load my water bottle in my bag. When I told my brother who was sprawled comfortably on the sofa in the midst of reading a book, he immediately ran up to the third floor to get it for me. And I thought that was already superbly kind. But when he came down to pass me the bottle, I realized I was missing my spectacles too. Feeling terribly horrid, I asked if he would mind going up again to fetch them for me. Not leaving time for contemplation, he dashed up the stairs again. Tell me, who is willing to do that for a silly forgetful person like me?! By the way, this brother is the older one. He’s passed 12 years of age, so if you think I should be guilty of child abuse, think again.

Jen is the security guard. She’s been trying real hard to extinguish my insecurities because the first of the Prelim results would be released tomorrow. She’s not a private security guard though, cos people like Annabel come to seek her services too. If only we could have her coolness and clarity of mind.

I can never seem to forget

Feel your Colours

2005-09-10T20:57:00.000-07:00

They say white is the colour of purity, virginity and innocence. Flowers that emit a subtle essence, Jasmine, Magnolia, Lilies, are white too. I think white is a colour to exploit. Coat another colour onto white and it takes the backseat, hiding in discreet behind a shade that carries more intensity. White is the canvas for your expression, it liberates your creativity, gives you freedom.

Sometimes, you can’t help acting like a girl. Girls acknowledge sentimental value, experience nostalgia more frequently and have a better memory for insignificant things. I was just complaining to comrade last night, about how time flies, how the year went through the shrinking machine and came out shorter. Then I started recalling what I was doing 365 days ago and realized that hey, it was the 10th of September then. The images of that day remain so vivid in sepia colour. I can almost remember all the elements that served to provoke my senses. The trees, the zooming automobiles, the laughter, the sweat, the cement path, the feeling of satisfaction. Of course, there was more to it.

Black. The colour you put on your nails to make a statement, feel different, feel bolder. It is the colour associated with everything cool, space-like and out of reach. The last of everyday you see is the blanket of blackness. Before you enter a virtual realm, Black kisses you goodnight.

furniture frenzy

2005-09-06T16:49:00.000-07:00

Escaping from reality is great fun, especially when you indulge in senseless activites. Things like enjoying the orange glow from the lamp beside your bed (guys! Our fake campfire!) , pretending the wind from the droning fan in the study was the salty breeze of the sea, waking up in the morning with a ‘blanket wrapped around your waist’ and laying there in semi-consciousness.

Before you think I’ve got nothing better to do, this is the result of dull days. And there are people out there (I’m sure) who do things like that. =p

Night Spin

2005-08-28T15:02:00.000-07:00

Oh, I’m language-fied these days. In a desperate attempt to fuel my head with more ideas for rush-through essays during the exams, I went to Times, just 2 days before the English prelim paper. And guess who I met there?

Shantaram.

On the streets of Bombay
Colours of humanity
Superimposed on each other.
Stenches of mankind
Layered in humidity.

This soul’s
Freedom,
Fragile and hunted
Prowl the streets like any other
But here this time,
Only less vindictive,
Less bitter.

And he meets Karla
Lost deep into her eyes
Of living emeralds
Of intellect and intrigue.

The listening ear at night
Explores the world with me
Of possibilities, futuristic scenes

He loosens up
In the presence of crimson and gold saris
The German language ringing in his head
The backdrop
Leopold’s.

Yam Juice

2005-08-10T18:19:00.000-07:00

We’re all swimming towards the huge waterfall that crashes into another river below. What is it going to be like at the tip of the waterfall? Nobody knows. Ask the other fishes that have flew down the waterfall? But no, that’s not an option. They have already gone too far downstream.

We’re all anxious. Our gills tighten, ready to take the leap down and separate ourselves from the water in mid air. Our scales are standing, like goose pimples resulting from the contraction of erector muscles. Suddenly, I see a juicy worm in the distant. I know it is an escape route – death. The fisherman above is waiting patiently for a dumb fish to hook itself onto the trap. I’m not dumb I know, but I swim towards it anyway.

I get hooked.

While waiting for my respiratory system to malfunction under the non-aquatic conditions, my life flashes past me. Fellow fishes, seaweeds, sea urchins, crabs, Mr Predator and occasional scuba divers. So I wait and wait…nothing happens. I did not die.

I flipped my fish tail around and saw it gleam under the auburn rays of the setting sun. I’ve been given this new lease of life!

~

It had been a fantastic chocolate treat. There was the factory, the meadow with ‘pokeless green grass’, the reese that almost got eaten together with its black paper wrapper, the huge cookie that came out fresh from the oven and at last, the frappucino! Great stuff topped with a generous portion of whipped cream and chocolate syrup I think. Then came the moment to capture the moment. We should have captured more moments at that moment. I know you’re confused.

When I came home, there was the thoughtful brew that was left for me to savour. It is fresh till now.

~

The only way to survive is to keep yourself happy, look at the sun, breathe in the morning air. Look out of the window to see dancing trees, fluttering butterflies, yellows and reds against greens. Hear the birds chatter. That’s the heaven that is out there for me to reach.

The Handsome History Figure

2005-07-16T01:10:00.000-07:00

Its been a ritual since the start of this term. Canteen food for recess, no food for lunch and creative food for afternoon tea. After extended lessons, we all reach home feeling wary and sticky don’t we? Well, for those who feel a teeny pang of hunger and a subtle urge to eat something, I’ve come up with some simple as ABC recipes. Great for those who want to fix a quick bite and can’t spot the difference between a microwave oven and a conventional oven.

1) Fake Mark and Spencer-like Chocolate Digestive Cookies

Ingredients:
- Plain Mcvities digestive biscuits
- Hershey’s chocolate syrup(You can get them at supermarkets. Comes in squeezable bottles)

Method:
Only 2 types of ingredients needed and they’re readily available almost everywhere! Ok, so you open your pack of digestive biscuits. The bottle of choc should be chilled in the fridge already. Then holding the biscuit with its underside facing you, squeeze as much choc as you desire on to it. Careful not to squeeze too much(this especially goes out to choc-crazy ppl) as it may just flow over the edge and drip onto the nearest surface. WASTAGE!!! Anyway, you end up with a layer of choc on the digestive biscuit right? What are you waiting for? Gobble it up!

2) Neutralisation

Ingredients:
- any juicy fruit, preferably a large orange
- Dorito chips

Method:
Actually, for this dish, there’s not much method involved. In fact, in strict terms, it cannot be considered a dish. The orange and chips are more of compliments to each other. You see, after walking under the sun for about 800 km, you want something that’s cool and juicy against your tongue, so you eat an orange. Rich in vitamin C and thirst quencher. After finishing the orange, you feel too healthy. All bloated up and with a tinge of citric acid in your mouth. This is the time when you fish out some chips and start munching on them. Unhealthy, sodium and carbo packed food neutralizes the oh-so-healthy effect the orange imposed on you.

That’s all for you! Tune in the next time for easy peasy recipes!

Recently, there’s been a phenomenon called Dream Determination. Comrade and I have decided to make each other dream of each other. And it did happen! It started one stormy night, mosquitoes were buzzing around my ear as I slept and I couldn’t be bothered to wake up to stop the buzzing. ANYWAY. That’s just setting the scene for something out-of-the-blue to happen. Ok, I dreamt about a seafood restaurant and we were beside this huge fish tank filled with the weirdest sea creatures. Scales on the bodies of fish-like creatures gleamed so luminously and tails and fins were multi-coloured. Then there were jelly fish-like and octopus-like things floating around. The dream ends here. After about a week or so, it was comrade’s turn. This time, it was a pub. Cool eh, we are not at a legal age to drink yet though. So we were drinking and we got drunk. Guess what happened next? ….

We got threw out of the pub!
Anti-climax.

We shall end today’s entry with a story.

Expressions

There were two people who owned art galleries and both their galleries were situated along the same street, just opposite each other. You see, the 2 owners used to be the best of friends at one point in time but their friendship crumbled due to reasons I don’t know. Both of them are great appreciators of art and they know each other inside out. The point is, they know exactly what sort of art …..

To be continued.

Last time

2005-07-02T20:44:00.000-07:00

Clears throat. AHEM. Changes to highest frequency for voice projection

“ Jubilate, Jubilate Deo, Jubilate, Jubilate, Jubilate Deo…..”

And that marks the end of my stage life with SNCO.

It had been the only thing I was anticipating throughout the week. For once, my mind was off those tests. Even the Emath test prior to recess seemed like a breeze. Notice I used the word SEEMED. You know how I suck at Math. The experience was so refreshing. Making my way through the backstage and practice rooms of SCH just makes me want to go wild. Imagine playing hide and seek there. That place is a maze of corridors and air-conditioned rooms.

You know, people normally have lots of things to say or comment about a mass event like this, but I always fail to churn out a spectacular report. Maybe I’m better at recounting personal encounters. Ok, so here goes. When I got onto stage and walked towards the conductor’s stand, my skirt got stuck in my heels and I couldn’t walk properly. I got over it thinking that the audience would not have noticed it at all. Anyway, I screwed the solo part of yao zu’s intro. My sincere apologies. =(

Dampening situations aside, people came up to me and commented that BMY was a smashing hit! Woohoo. Even a Chemistry teacher like Mrs Tan said she could feel the music transporting her through the time machine, back to the period of blood, flesh and fury in ancient China. TERRECOTTA SOLDIERS and the amazing replicas of individuals found in the tomb.

But it was both intimidating and consoling to know that comrade was so promiscuous. Luckily I didn’t wear my specs on stage, or else all details would be revealed. Facial expressions, hand gestures, whatever. Reese’s peanut better cups! (Caution: Objects may APPEAR BIGGER than they seem) They sure beat flowers. Flowers wilt but these things actually melt in your mouth. Ok, not much of a difference but the Peanut Butter filling encased in chocolate is a mixture of salt and sugar. Both components compliment each other so well, you can’t really tell if it’s exactly sweet or salty. Great stuff.

Thank you guys, for your pretty blooms. Annabel’s pale purple rose, Liwei’s bright orange one, Charissa’s sunny daisy and Wini’s lush red one. They’re sitting in my room, in a bottle and emitting faint scents. Especially the roses, tickling my nostrils and I feel like I’m in the Garden of Eden.

Patches of green, came into my dreams.

'No outside food allowed'

2005-06-25T05:17:00.000-07:00

And so it ends with a BANG. The holidays I mean. Tonight would be solo night again, where I’ll be the only person sleeping at the upper part of my house.

Story telling time again!

GIRL II

Girl sat down and stared at the apple in front of her. This apple, about half rotten, was disintegrating. This apple wasn’t old or anything. Neither had it been mistreated. It was just poisoned. Poisoned by its surroundings, the atmosphere. Girl was staring into it, her gaze boring into its crimson skin and beneath it, the apple’s succulent white flesh that had been scarred by poison.

Girl had lost hope. This apple would never be able to resurrect from its rotten state. The poison sunk deeper, stretching its horrible veins of darkness into the apple’s core.

She couldn’t look anymore. She turned away and buried her head in her arms. Suddenly, she looked up on instinct. The apple was regaining its lush red. The brown scars were disappearing.

The poison sunk so deep, it became the antidote.

The End.

I’ve been having prata 2 days in a row. Only yesterday’s one was spoilt by this scrawny waiter with eyes that sunk deep into his face. He had wrinkled skin and an obiang shade of colour on his hair. Even a glass of ice mocha couldn’t dilute the effect the waiter had on me.

And then I realized maybe I didn’t have to be so bent on getting earrings anymore. Comrade got a pair from the States, Rach got a pair from New Zealand and when I rummaged through my birthday presents stashed away in the cupboard, I found the pair that mentee got for me! 3+3. Now I’ve got 6.

Memorabilia. Really cool stuff. You could collect the most random of things but the most important thing to remember is that whatever you keep, they will remind you of events/incidents in time to come. Before you throw insignificant things away, think about how you got them, where you got them, why you got them. Take receipts for example. I got something that would belong to trash after it served its purpose. But it didn’t end up in the bins. Instead, it was given a new lease of life with its purpose re-established. Ben and Jerry’s ice cream cone wrapper. *covers mouth and giggles*

Animal Galore

2005-06-14T23:44:00.000-07:00

Shopping with Mum has never been a disappointment, especially when you visit The Brownie Factory, where all the desires of the sweet tooth would be fulfilled. We bought that Banana Tropicana thing and the Espresso Nutty one. All chocolate enthusiasts out there, take note!!

Anyway, Mum has this wonderful bread machine and she’s been gloating about it. Not her fault actually, because the stuff that churns out from it is amazing! We had homemade pizza for lunch today and she didn’t have to sweat a single bit. The machine did the flour job and all she had to do was ask Shanie roll out the dough with a rolling pin. The time I saw him did that, he’s tongue was out. So cute.

ZLS has a cute Chihuahua! But he locks him up in a cage in the toilet. = / The time when I first heard about it, I was so highly amused by the image of him walking his teeny canine. And the way he fusses over it, AHHH!

Story-telling time!

Once upon a time, there was a girl who sat by the window. Let’s name this girl, Girl. So Girl sat by her window all the time, looking out at the treetops and the pretty pairs of butterflies fluttering over bunches of blossomed flowers that grew ever so lavishly upon the green leaves. That’s beside the point. Girl became friends with this blue bird that came by every morning for a visit. The blue bird sang to her, kept her amused with his little actions of fluffing himself up into a fur ball and impressed her with his ability to do somersaults on the branches. This wonderful creature enraptured her and it became the nicotine that kept her at the window all the time.

One day, he didn’t turn up. She waited by the window longingly, hoping to see a hint of blue feathers among the vast blueness. But no, he still didn’t turn up. She waited day and night, from the time when the black cow jumped over the sun to the time when the giraffe decided to stretch its neck and sniff the moon. Seems bleak?

Well no. On a certain morning, she woke up to find some bird poo on the window still. She recognized its queer splatter. It belonged to the blue bird. And there she was, with renewed hope that he would come back and sing her a song or perhaps poo on her window still again. But he never came. Why happened to it?

You would probably think that Girl is the die-hard type. Like she would continue waiting and anticipating. She didn’t. In fact, she decided to close her window and draw the curtains.

The End

Learn to say that word.

Weekend without the folks

2005-06-06T01:00:00.000-07:00

I’m a rejuvenated soul. After a whirlwind of tiresome weekdays, I end up at The Coffee Connoisseur on a pretty Saturday night along Singapore river with fellow comrade(s) =p , the faithful dessert partner(s).

Whoever has heard of having dessert that is priced one and a half times more than main course? ME!!
Ok, so it started off with a boring meal at Mac Donalds. Fish Dippers and French Fries in Curry Sauce, Mayonaise and Ketchup + Mc Wings and French Fries in sweet chilli sauce. Dinner was taken extra early yesterday and we had to wait for the sun to go down and for Clarke Quay to put on her make-up and funky dress.

So ‘half past seven’ came and we set off on our dessert hunt. Ambience was priority. As we checked out the menus of promising hangouts, almost all of them seem to occur in curious Italian or French terms. There was this one, with dim lights, low rattan furniture and warm candles as center-pieces for the tables that I had fallen in love with. But oh no, they had a amazing wine menu and only uh, 0 desserts? So we trotted further down and saw TCC. That was The Place.

There were 2 pages worth of desserts. Not a blessing, but rather, a problem. We spent a significant amount of time pondering over the descriptions and flowery words. I mean, how can you make a decision with all that mumbo jumbo veiling your face and dulling your flaw-detector? I think it was 20 minutes before the waiter came to take the order. Even the 3 girls at the cosy table had their coffees served to them already. Ok, I almost missed the exciting part. What had we decided on? The 2 desserts that had made their way into our favour was TCC’s chocolate lava cake and Tangy Mango Pudding. Something like that. I forgot their exact names.

Mango Pudding came first. Comrade declared that it didn’t say “Eat me”. Well, this is totally understandable. The pudding came in a mini glass cup on a large plate decorated fancily with cranberry and passion fruit syrup and a REAL passion fruit. For people out there who haven’t seen the real thing, this is it. Passion fruit has golden leaves and is orangey-yellow in colour. Wait, this might just be another artificial decoration. But we popped it in our mouths anyway.

Next was the decadent chocolate thing. When my fork went through it, chocolate came oozing out of the cake, as promised in the menu and hence the name, ‘chocolate lava cake’. The Vanilla ice cream on top of it had started melting so when I combined the cake, lava and ice cream in a single spoonful and shoved it in my mouth, the sensation was UM MMMM. Hot, cold and soft. Try imagining that, people.

The night scene was a masseur, smoothing every single tensed muscle and stealing away every worry. The sugar was aromatherapy oil, perfecting the moment.

Desserts, they rock.

Today after paying Zym another weekly visit, Aunty and I hobbled down to Little India for prata and ginger tea. The tea was exactly like the one we have at Uncle Mobeen’s store. Thick and milky, the one I like best. Then, we scoured the upper level of Tekka Market for bangles and I got the perfect deal. $2 for a dozen. Did I mention that we had to squirm our way through hordes of dark men? They were at every corner that we had turned into, even the stairs and in the middle of roads. My heart had descended into my stomach and the hydrochloric acid had started attacking it then. But I like the place still, full of vibe and energy. The hawker center was just different. Briyani and Prata dominated the entire place. The neon lights at the stores exuded a welcoming gesture. Maybe I should consider buying a Punjabi suit for a wedding gown. Ok, JOKING!

Tomorrow’s back to work. I’ve got my bangles and my bag. =)

Oh, and thanks for everything again. The ride, the talk, the song, the treat. – official statement

Diagnostic Radiology, the Red Chop.

2005-05-16T08:58:00.000-07:00

A doctor’s smile is the most relieving.

It’s been one week since the visit to CCS – Cough and Chest Specialist. 7 days ago, fever was still raging, like this stubborn bushfire of the head. Now one week later, after a course of antibiotics and 14 inhalations of some powder thing, the lungs have showed a significant improvement. The blurred section on the X-ray is clearing up. And so, Dr Chan told me that I do not have to see him again. He was so jovial about it. I think Dad was too. The doctor’s verdict is friendly to his pocket. I mean, consultation fees alone cost $52.90, inclusive of GST. =/

Going back to school was especially heartwarming. Everyone was so sweet. 4 Charity touched me the most. They gave me a ‘Welcome back Jiawei’. Ahhhh! So irresistibly tear-evoking, come to think of it now. The sec 3s were so nice. Dear mentee, Danfong and fake mentee, Joyce made a get-well card. Sijia came during lunch. =) And the rest of the class people, gave me a shower of hugs. Sounds so gay, I know.

The 4 people broke the monotony of home stay last week. Wait, 5. =) Jen, Jas, Charissa, Winifred and Sutyee. How nice of them to come visit me and give me a surprise as well. Luckily, I could get out of bed on Thursday afternoon cos in the morning, I was strapped to bed by this crazy random backache. Couldn’t stand up to breathe. I thought I was going to suffocate and die. Sadist thoughts aside, I really want to thank you guys. Oh, and Friend and friends too, who saw me through this ordeal through all your kind messages.
THANK YOU. =)

Now now, the thing is, I lost weight. And people can see it, which means it’s actually obvious. Yucks, its scary to see how the numbers on the weighing scale differ from each other, just a week apart. Anyway, the battery’s running low on this lap top. Like, really. Like BSB's 'The Call'.

I exit.

This Period

2005-05-10T19:14:00.000-07:00

The past week has gone by in a blur. And so will this week.

It started off with a slight dizziness after debate business on post-Labour Day. That was the afternoon and I thought maybe the sun was too hot for its own good. So I went to bed hoping my head would clear when I wake up. Obviously, it didn’t. Headache turned into fever and fever turned into more fever. Monday night.

Tuesday morning, I couldn’t make it for school and the day was spent on bed. By nightfall, I had gotten used to the fever and was walking around the house like any normal person. Went to visit the doctor at the MRT station( funny place for a clinic to exist) and he warned me that if the fever persisted, I might have caught dengue. It was deemed impossible by me cos the last time I got bitten was 3 days ago. Too late for a dengue reaction.

Wednesday was debate day. The medicine was taking its effect and I could go to school. We lost to the school’s junior debate team and it was still a job well done. Especially for Shue Li, who had to come up with an impromptu segment for the rebuttals. It was touching to see some classmates turn up to support us. There was warmth in the cold classroom. I plunged into bed after that debate stint and fever caught up with me later.

Whole of Thurday, everything took a turn for the worse. Stupid fever rocketed up to sky high degrees, fluctuating between 39 something and 40 something the entire day. I thought my brains were going to get fried. Mum was frantic. No amount of cold towels she tried to put on my forehead and neck would help bring the temperature down. At the 3rd visit to the doc (our beloved Dr Tan at hougang), he gave me a jab which saved the day.

The next 3 days went ahead in bed again. On Sunday, Mum spent the day in the kitchen to whip up some goodies. There were muffins and custard fruit tarts, which do not exist anymore, due to their overwhelming popularity.

Monday was exciting. I thought I was fit for school but the fever came back. It was Xray day! When we brought the films to Dr Tan again, he concluded that we had to visit the hospital. No antibiotic in his clinic could cure me. So it was Dr Chan at Mount Elizabeth which he referred us to. Place of birth and something else! It was fun to take the lift that only went up to levels between 12 and 17. He diagnosed me with segmental pneumonia and a blood test was inevitable. =( Lucky the nurse drawing blood was nice and Jay Chou’s music was playing in the background.
“Music does soothe”-as quoted from Friend.

We had lunch at nearby Paragon. Soup noodles and Xiao Long Bao. Yayness. I think I’m finally recovering. Food makes the heart happy.

Clutching line and circle to bed. Lots of sentimental value.

Los Zafiros

2005-05-01T17:54:00.000-07:00

This week’s been stuffed with Sports Day related stuff. This even includes practicing stunts – balancing on 2 person’s thigh/ having one feet on 2 palms and the other feet on a shoulder while the poor base supports my entire frame and tries to stand. Poor Charissa, I’m finally acknowledging you for all that sweat and effort you put in. I’m sure we could have made it to the real thing if we were given more time. And sorry for the bad back I gave you. Really sorry. = /

This year, Red House came in 3rd overall. Not too bad, considering the fact that we were almost last with Green house hot on our heels. It was especially fun cheering and screaming our heads off with the borrowed CO drums. Thank you fellow drummers( tammy, xiaorong, charissa and martina), for sharing that ‘highness’ with me. Oh yes! And if you were wondering who did the crazy hair for our Sec 2 and 3 trackers, it was ME! All that small protruding tumours around the whole head! I bet it did create some talk. Next time you need a medusa-inspired hairstyle, come look for me. I’ll provide comb and teeny back rubber bands.

Yesterday, the 3 musketeers came over. We had a feast with Mum at Sushi Don and I ordered Cha Soba – cold green noodles. Absolutely delicious, especially with raw salmon dipped in soya sauce. Mm mmm. After lunch, we visited Adelphi Mall and witnessed the power of the best projector around. Woohoo. The colour and the depth on screen was totally mesmerizing. I wish we could have one at home. Dad became so itchy, he asked the shop owner how much the projector cost. 20k, he said simply. Ok, so I swore I was going to work towards that when I grow up. A theatre in my own home!!! AHHHH! I’m getting dizzy.
On the way home, the car went out of petrol, like not a single drop left in the tank. We were stranded on CTE until the AA tow truck came to tow us to the nearest petrol kiosk. It wasn’t scary, it was a whole lot of fun!!! For the first time, Dad was seating on the driver’s seat, hands detached from the steering wheel, while the car moved. And I saw Mum’s face when the tow truck driver elevated the front part of the car. HILARIOUS!!! Me and the coussies were rolling with laughter at the back.
In the evening, we went to Romano’s again. Yay, I think that waiter still remembers us. He gave our table ‘special service’. =)

I think I turned in too early yesterday and missed the heart-to-heart session with Jessica Jie. This wonderful cousy of mine, 10 years older than me, has been staying up with me into the depths of the night to talk every time she comes over. And this dates back the primary 4.

Yay, debate tomorrow. =) =(

Golden Shower

2005-04-23T02:07:00.000-07:00

I think I’ve replayed the scene so many times in my head, it’s losing its luster. Then again, there’s no harm just recalling the 22nd of April, 2005.

I arrived in school at 6.30am, clear-eyed and numb. It was the first time I saw so many CO people coming down 15 minutes earlier before the official arrival time. Stepping into the music room was a wholly different feeling. I saw dear Wingyan setting up chairs for the final practice and I joined her in doing so. Every chair I set out for our section, I wished it good luck, hoping that the person sitting on it would play out her best on this very day.

Next thing I knew, we were in the holding room, backstage. Bin Man made us play our choice piece in full and it was really a dose of confidence for me. After finishing the last note of ‘Bin Ma Yong’, he suddenly shouted ‘GO!’. I think he meant for us to ‘go’ up on stage, but I took it as ‘GOLD’ in fact. Pretty significant.

On stage, my fingers were cold and numb. My hand was not as steady and the exposure of my seat was startling. Xing Kong was played with caution. Everyone held back their feelings and volume. But after warming up on stage , Bin Ma Yong came out so strong and steady. Lynn set the mood by giving one of her best shots at the introduction. After her part, I could see everyone’s relieved faces. Smiles spread across the entire CO in such uniformity. And so, the song ended so majestically. I was shocked at how much echo the last note produced. The resounding end was dramatic.

We filed out of the stage later and upon reaching the backstage doors, we started jumping. But I was not too sure about our performance. The first song was not our best yet. Dad came just in time to miss our performance. Holly, he was quite disappointed. No one could convince me that we did really well on stage. Not even Renowned Zhang or our pretty percussion teacher. Not until the fat guy announced our results.

The waiting time prior to the announcement if results was the most torturing. My heart was probably dangling from the ceiling of SCH, all high and alone. We said prayers and I remembered closing my eyes so tightly and clutching on to a paper crane folded in gold origami paper( done by our sweet little sec ones)….

“ Chinese Orchestra number 42, CHIJ St Nicholas Girls’ School, GOLD”. In that split second, I found myself springing out from the red plush seat, jumping around and screaming like a mad monkey whose butt just caught fire. Emotions just penetrated my entire being. Before I knew it, everyone was hugging everyone, teary-eyed, all smiles, all screams. I loved it. The sec twos were in the music room back in school, also experiencing the same thing. I did a mad thing though, flinging myself at Wu Lao Shi and Veronica isn’t something someone sane would do.

The most touching thing was seeing the sec twos run towards our bus when we came back in triumph. Silly Amanda fell on top of me while hugging me. Sand and soil got into my underwear ok. = /

The afternoon was spent celebrating at Junction 8’s Swensons. Gorged on the famous topless 5 and fries. It was a lunch cum dinner for us. The rest of the time was spent laughing and getting crazily high while gulping down iced water. Too poor to order main course lah. So 2 plus hours past and we took a picture before we left with the help of the waiter. I bet he thought we were drugged or something.
The day ended with another Jing Ying practice.

Flashback: the road home is fraught with bittersweet memories. Why the hostility now?

Hard, Soft, Vocal and Theatre

2005-04-17T19:44:00.000-07:00

This week’s been tumultuous. Sinking into guilt then jumping out alive and kicking from it, embarking on the hardest shopping trip on Friday night and then campfire with the dears without a lamp. Ok, so shopping for the presents for Cyn and Mar was the hardest. Especially Cyn, (take pride in that dear), we had to walk into Zara, only to find plain and ugly racer backs, then Mango, saw a pink one with bad material and decided not to get it, so we walked into Pacific Plaza and realized that all surf shops were closed. Next stop was Wisma and the silly Surfbabe store shut its doors too. We almost made do with a Topshop top but decided against it. Too plain again.

Then chance made us step into good ol’ Perlini’s Silver and we were stuck between a bracelet and the ‘C’ pendant for a good few minutes. Finally, a ‘C’ seemed more personalized so we chose a pretty necklace to go with it. The salesgirl warned us about the necklace being too short for some people and we got paranoid, so I had to use my own neck as a yardstick. It was unnecessary. =p In the end, we ended up with a crisp Zara bag and a compact Perlini’s Silver bag. Don’t thank me dears, thank Jitneng. He had to walk into all the girly shops, past cardigans, tubes, tanks, underwear and what-have-yous, and didn’t mutter a word about it.

The portable CD player in my room has screwed so I had begun to bug Dad for something to replace it. I cannot live without music playing. Today, he appeared on the top floor with 2 speakers and an amplifier. Don’t get me wrong either, he didn’t go and get a brand new set to surprise me or anything. It was this retro-looking Yamaha set-up that he had got with Mum, during the first few months into their marriage. It cost $2000 then, a bomb to them at that time. Its probably about 20 years now and I was so suspicious of its function. But looks are deceiving. Within 2 hours, he got all the wires and cables connected and we used Sugar Ray for a sound test. Boy, did it sound good. Really good. The base was thumping and I swear I smiled a silly smile when I heard it.
During tea just now, Mum disclosed that Dad was quite proud of his first Hi-fi set. It suddenly dawned on me. Maybe this thing was a symbol of their unity and love. Eee, ok, too much Lit.

Campfire! Bbq! Hoho, it was another hilarious gathering. We’ve got not much to say to each other, other than lame comments and not-very-funny-when-you think-about-them-now jokes. I promised to quote Silpa, “ Is Bridge the game where you say ‘bluff!’? and we started rolling with laughter. I almost hyperventilated. I think we laugh at the slightest things, like when Silpa accidentally dropped the fishball into Orange juice and when Marilyn had her neck and back spoilt in glitter. Um, what else. Oh! The ‘students by day and brothers by night thing’, my ‘intense’ trademark and how Marilyn had to swim away from gliiter. Yeah, that was the lamest.

I suddenly feel engulfed in warmth, by everyone in my life. Even by a new found old friend. I owe you a Saturday night. =)

It was raining and I fell

2005-04-13T19:51:00.000-07:00

I had wanted to get off the bus right at that instant and take the 20 minutes ride back there. I’m getting blunt at sensitivity and lousy at interpretation. The way you said ‘bye’, the way you said ‘hello’, it was like a punch in the face. And then I found out about how you had anticipated it, from our dear friend, and how much I would too if I were you. I want to send a trillion sorrys. Yet, if there’s a shield in a way, they would never be able to get through, no matter how much remorse they carry.

I feel that it’s the last straw. You wouldn’t forgive again. It’s the second time in a row. Even Jen says so. That cool person who hesitates at smiling.

From this, I realised that, I do, still.

In love with Ben, infatuated with Jerry

2005-04-09T10:49:00.000-07:00

The following is a happy poem composed in school during Chinese lesson. Look out for the water cycle.

Rain of Euphoria

The moisture of
Gloom, melancholy and woebegone
Evaporated.
Cloud of grey and silver
Forms against a
Pastel blue.
And when the sun blossoms in radiance,
Grey is altered to purple
Pinkish gold in the variant form of silver..
But the fluff of cotton
Grows. Too big.
Like a tumultuous ulcer.
And it pops
It splatters.
Then drip.
Huge ovals of liquate descend.
Sparkling, twinking
Under the light of the fire ball.
My shower of blithe.

12th Night

Today was class outing at DBS Arts’ Centre. I’ve concluded that Clarke Quay is the best place to go if you want to take a walk down beside shimmering waters after a posh dinner at a classy restaurant. Comes with a hefty price tag though. You could end up there if:
1) You have a super rich boyfriend
2) Dad wouldn’t mind going there to try
3) Dad wants to check out how Hooters Club is like
4) You are from SNCO and wants to see how big are the replicas of the terracotta soliders at Indochine
5) You go there with someone who’s not rich but shares the same sentiments as you

Anyway, the play was good. We were instructed right from the beginning that following of the text is not allowed. I got to meet dear Ant Jelly there! What a surprise! Oh man, if you think Feste is a comic relief and a joker, you should think more than that. He is a wonderful, charismatic irish person with cool earrings on both his ears. I saw too many people staring at him with eyes of admiration? Everyone had a secret crush on him.

A dog’s funeral

2 houses away, there used to be this ferocious bull terrier that would rush and bang itself into the gate whenever someone walked past. 2 years ago, Sparky was a victim of its jaws. And in an attempt to rescue Sparky, my hands got involved and became a victim too. 2 years down the road, the traumatic experience has since faded and Bear, the name of the bull terrier, has passed away, due to some unknown reason. I no longer hear his coarse barking and I actually miss it. Poor Bear. Maybe he was put to sleep by his owners. They found him a hazard. But it was not his fault that he behaved that way. He was always enclosed and yearned for running space.

Mossy Roses

2005-04-03T03:34:00.000-07:00

This week, I’m brimming with ideas, lots of them. Let’s see. 0.0

The general characteristic of blogs, I’ve observed, is of self-centeredness. Ok, this is a silly comment because most blogs are personal diaries of their owners! Exactly what you see here. Everything is about me, me and more me. Sorry, lame.

Today, Mum decided that she wanted to visit Far East Florists, you know, that huge nursery along the stretch of road that leads you to Novena. So we went to this place where they had ‘Fresh Cut Flowers’ as heading. I would never have guessed how fresh these flowers were, until I stepped into what they call ‘The Cold Room’. This cold gush of chill wind rushed into my face. Pretty intimidating. Then there were buckets of pails filled with bouquets of all sorts of flowers. Tiger Lilies, exotic Orchids, Tulips, blah, in every sort of floral shade you can imagine. So you could imagine how it was like when I came upon the rose buckets. There were so many varieties of them, some with a silky texture, others moss-like petals. Ok, apart from assaulting your sense of touch, there’s also the visual aspect. These roses are like the most colourful bunch I’ve ever seen. From lime green ones, to dusty rose, orange and pink concoctions. One thing to note though, all roses had on their original colours. No electric blue or some weird artificial colour. So it was a very pleasing sight: Semi-blossomed roses packed in clear plastic wrap. Dad probably sensed my awe and he offered to get me a bouquet. Woots! A bouquet of 10 over roses! So I chose the darkest red of all, the ones that have a tinge of black in them. Luscious. They’re now sitting in my room in a tall glass vase after having their leaves and stalks snipped off.

Tuesdays With Morrie is a book with tremendous healing power. Whatever statement that the nutty professor says would seep through your brain. It stains the cells and you relate it to your life. Suddenly, everything makes sense and you fall in love with Morrie. Its an amazing thing for such an intellectual person to exist. Mitch Albom was definitely blessed to have such an inspiring teacher. But whatever it is, do get the book, You would never regret the choice. And may I add, get all other subsequent products of Mitch Albom’s pen.

Its nice to retrace your steps down memory lane and flip over pebbles that you’ve walked past, but never exactly got to appreciate. Chance made me do just that and its really a reliable way to make sure that incidents are safely deposited in your memory bank for eternity.

I don't know my reasons exactly, but i figured out that you probably wouldn't want to be reminded of things. How you didn't care anymore. I don't know, but whatever you said on that night, just left a great impact on me. Something like, 'hey, go away.'. So i decided to be away. Drastic, I know. sorry?

The Froggie Phone Holder

2005-03-27T14:45:00.000-08:00

When you are emotionally attached to something or someone, you would never be able to forget it. Even if it makes you sad, nostalgic and all other negative feelings. The thing is, the more distant it is from you, the more memories you get in return. And when memories turn out to be good blissful ones, you forget about how it caused you so much sadness and you forgive.

Lipton tea goes very well with Kueh Bangket. Especially if you dip that coconut cookie into a warm cup of tea and then put it into your mouth. Mmm mmm. Melts in your mouth better than any other M&Ms.

I thought something could have waited till 2 years later, but I gave in earlier. A pity it couldn’t even pass a 16. Means a lot to me.

Rat Race vs. Cat Chase

2005-03-27T00:45:00.000-08:00

The impending SYF is making me shift uneasily in that exposed seat below the conductor’s nose. It’s a bad countdown. 11 more practices and (one month minus 5) more days to go. The closer it gets, the sharper I become at visualizing the setting and atmosphere on stage at SCH. Wide and exposing gaps between individual seats, nothing like our cosy arrangement back in the music room. Swirling winds in the concert hall due to convection currents, nothing like the comfortable temperature back in the music room. Bright impertinent lights, harsh and unforgiving, nothing like the warm orange glow back in the music room. Sigh, nothing’s going to be like our training ground, the very place that has seen us through those grueling afternoons and witnessed the amazing synergy that we could produce when we pour all our hearts into what we are playing.

Friday was spent on inferring, analyzing, extracting new vocabulary from the dictionary, correcting and re-correcting sentences. It was merely a chapter of that gross novel. What kept us going was the Ruffles Sour Cream and Onion chips, the cheese and tomato-dipped-in-olive-oil sandwiches, Lemon Barley and the naps Jas and me took on the couch, 2 hours and half an hour respectively. =p But all was not bleak. We managed to finish before sunset and I got my hands on Tuesdays with Morrie. Woooooots! Later, it was Spaghetti Al Polpa, Fettuccine Marinara, Linguine Alfredo, Fettuccine Carbonara and Diavola Pizza on the dinner table. Did I mention that Guy Romano helped make the meal yummier?

Today, I was determined to get the cloth for our Red House banner ready. So we headed down to quaint Chinatown. Ahhh, the sights and smells of it. Sourish stench from the wet market, heavy aroma of black coffee at the hawker centre, whiffs of burning incense and the queer smell of new cloth and young threads. I had to purchase material amounting to 48 metres square in area so you could imagine how the poor PoPo had to cut cloth 8 metres in length, 7 times.

The rain came in a fickle shower. Before the gloom could get into you, the sun came out again, cheery and radiant as ever. It’s rare to see a stretch of road still wet from the rain reflecting sun rays. I thought it looked really pretty and promising. Then I noticed the drenched trees. They were illuminating with life as the sun filtered through their rain-kissed leaves, staining the ground with generous patches of gentle light. I looked up from the ledge of the car door and saw the sun itself, misty among the undefined shapes of white clouds. By the way dear readers, don’t wreck your brains trying to guess what this image is trying to convey because, its another random observation of mine. Hehe. Today’s weather la.

Mum and Dad make a pair of highly comical characters. She bought a Swenson’s ice cream cone today while waiting for him to come out of Best departmental store. When he finally came out, he saw the cone, and stretched his arm out metres away from her. I emphasise, METRES. When the cone was finally within his grasp, he slid it out of her hand and you could imagine her shock because she didn’t see him coming from behind her back. A case of boy-snatch-something-away-from-girl. Luckily, she didn’t end up throwing a tantrum. =P I just stared and stared at them.

Resurrection in a dream

2005-03-21T15:44:00.000-08:00

Call me stupid, stubborn, hard-headed or what. I’m back at square one, the same place I stood just slightly more than a week ago. Wait, its 2 weeks. There have been recurring dreams of the same theme for three consecutive nights, disturbing when you wake up, but shocking when you’re in it. Sigh, what am I going to do when everyone tells me to forget and move on. Even I tell myself constantly. Yes, there are times when the heart goes with the head. But there would also be times when the heart breaks loose, free from reins and dwindling in vacuum. This occurs especially on Saturday nights. Weird phenomenon.

On Friday, it was get-together day. Its really sweet to catch up with a person you’ve known since you were two. Over dumpling noodles, carrot pastry and red bean dessert, she started reminding me of how she used to bully me when we were at Mama’s house, just because I’ve always been an easy going person. And now 14 years down the road, we’re having lunch together among tais tais at Crystal Jade, visiting haute couture shops, only to realise that we’re window-shopping.

Ok, I realise how similar our situations are. Like parallel. We’re motivated people, just not reaping what we want in school. And we keep reminding ourselves to look straight and stay on track. I’m disappointed once again. Lucky there’s the steady Jen to shove me and knock my head. Not like she’s doing very well either, but she’s really consoling. And Jas, forever making chocolate cookies, brownies, pies and everything to do with chocolate. It’s a good treat for my sweet tooth. Back to topic. We’ve friends pro at this certain ball game which I’ve attempted once and given up. =p Maybe I’ve chosen the harsh way because I know that the soft wouldn’t work for me. It would just continue to keep me hopeful or some sort. Its tough for me, even after so many weeks, but that’s the way it is.

Thurday was fun. At least after CO. Rach and me went to Bugis to get our overdue gift for Leen. Its Christmas + birthday. I collected my new specs and rach says I look too friendly in them. Oh well. So we went to try shoes anyway, and she got a butterfly charm bracelet which I thought was pretty. And phew, she dissuaded me from getting something I didn’t need now. A pair of earrings. You see, I don’t have earholes! But they were so nice and I figured out that I could wear them after getting piercings. Hold on, I do sound like Rebecca Bloomwood on a small scale.

Today, I met Charissa at the bus stop and she was red and perspiring. Turned out that she had walked all the way from school to YCK station. Then she asked me this random question that I thought was too random. ‘Are you ok?’. Ok, I figured out that maybe I’ve not given her the daily dosage of crap and silly smiles. Then I ask myself, ‘Am I really ok?’.

Snap out of it and throw yourself in the other it.

On High

2005-03-14T23:57:00.000-08:00

Finally, a break that won’t last very long, but it’s a break nevertheless. It started on a full swing. Friday was a long day because I decided to visit Jing Ying after about 21456735134 weeks. There, I saw the New-Age CO people. Nope, they’re not your cheena white-faced kind. They’re people with bold streaks of dyed hair, queer and unique dress codes and outrageous personalities. Take for example, this small structured guy playing the Pipa. Man, he is pro, by just looking at the way he strums. But look again and you can sense something amiss about him. Never mind, I shall not mention anything explicit here. =p

Beloved gang came over on Saturday and we almost had a sleepover. But it was fun to the core anyway. First, it was the screening of Team America ( f*** yeah) Lol. What a theme song! I recommend this show for highly intellectual people who have an appreciation for Barbie-lookalike puppets and know how to interpret the best jokes on Earth. Plus, you need a imaginative mind to really know what’s going on. For serious individuals, I do not encourage you to watch this show. You might end up fuming and burning a hole in the sofa. Talk about burning upholstery or leather, whatever your sofa is made of. Next was dinner. Conventional dinner at my house- Canadian Pizza. Then it was poker session, we didn’t get very far with that though, because, we always ended up talking! So before we knew it, we found ourselves cuddling up in a tiny compact circle in my room, around our campfire on the parquet floor. It was a modified, fuel-consuming one with a yellow porcelain base. Very romantic?

Maybe to add more essence to that atmosphere then, we started blasting BSB, as Hairin may put it, ‘sex to the ears’. Maybe this is what I call explicit. I don’t know how to describe it here, but we seemed like this inseparable cult thing. Talking about inseparable, Siti did mention about how Hairin would be furthering her studies in US after the Os. So I guess, we do have to get separated. Afzal said we would leave ‘a trail of wetness’ behind us on the day of Hairin’s departure. The airport cleaners would freak out at the sudden appearance of tear stains on the flawless carpets ( not like they can tell the difference between water and tears). Anyway, we ended our session with Siti’s dad waiting impatiently behind the wheel for about 20 mins? Ooops.

Oh yeah, before I forget, I’m cracking my brains over our motion, ‘This house would like to ban all dangerous sports’. We’re the opposition. So whoever’s reading this, I appeal for your excess brain cells to be used on some brainstorming regarding this topic.

Today, we had a sibling outing. Not an official one really, but a MRT ride is better than nothing right? It was me and the 2 bros. I had wanted to meet Dad at Bugis in the evening but the 2 guys decided to tag along. Funny, I spotted them in the house beneath this makeshift shelter made up of blankets and a plastic tent. Apparently, it was their Superheroes Headquaters. SS and SS. Sentinel Shawn and Static Shane. And I explained the principle of static electricity to them on the train ride. Its nice to see 2 pairs of enquiring eyes staring at you.

Hoho! I just realised the literal meaning of banana split. How interesting. =)

The closing chapter and its credits

2005-03-09T17:41:00.000-08:00

During biology lessons, we’re constantly reminded of the three things that you have to bear in mind about any living thing. Its adaptability, function and structure. Today, I’ll dwell on adaptability, emphasizing strongly that if a living thing is not able to adapt to its new environment, it’ll perish.

I’m a human, a living thing, with a double circulatory system and I do not wish to go into the pits. A catastrophe had occurred and I’m in a totally new position from about a month ago. A drastic, sweeping and dynamic change. The trees that were part of the landscape have changed. Their barks are of a different colour, their xylems and phloems functioning in a totally different manner. They stand next to each other and don’t recognize each other. They’re in the same, yet wholly different world now.

I had always been skeptical right in the beginning but I fell into it anyway. I’m talented at fortune-telling I realized, predicting the future so accurately, maybe because there’s always been a doubt hiding in a corner, existing quietly. But I’m grateful how clear-minded we are, about what we want and the goals involved. I probably took a longer time to respond, like how you always claimed my brain worked slower than yours. But now I’ve got my queries answered and I’m confidant enough to take a test on this topic. You are an experience, blurred by so many colourful images now, I’m too tired to think about it. Farewell friend, the best way to move on now is to cut you off completely, leaving no space for thought, no path into the wilderness. Bye.

We close the storybook and swallow a tinge of pity.
The End.

When memories heighten

2005-03-08T00:56:00.000-08:00

Dad’s cool. The other day, he was telling me stories about Ian Peh, apparently the most sought-after architect in the world. It all started with a visit to his workplace, this solitary building, the shade of cold steel, along Tuas Ave 9. I never knew it was an industrial jungle until Social Studies lessons in Primary 4. Anyway, back to the main point. His workplace. There are the piles of metal, the colour of our school. By the way, the other time he noticed that our school got a new coat of paint, he asked me who chose the colour. Not that he was really concerned about the person, he thought that the school looked like it had been smeared with corroded and oxidized metal. Sigh, I’m always going off track. =p Ok, this is the interesting part. There are 2 airplane propellers propped on some support thing. But don’t get me wrong, his job has nothing to do with aircrafts. Instead, it’s a whole lot about physics, forces and resistances. Next to the bigger propeller, there is this temporary mock-up of an architecture. Ask him what it is and he tells me it is the shrunken version of the Museum Station, belonging to the future Circle Line. I step into the mock up and there’s this huge piece of glass acting as a ceiling. Nothing unusual about that really, just that you feel like a plant inside a greenhouse. The air is thick and musty, the smell of fresh concrete. As my nose adjusted to the new level of oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen plus whatever gases there is in the air, I noticed something else. The ground that I was stepping on had curious moving patterns, flowing in a steady movement. So I looked up and realised that the ceiling was actually the bottom of a pool of water. Aha! That’s when dad told me about how the Museum Station was going to be like…commuters underground with a pool of water above them. So I asked him, ‘what has this got to do with you?’, and he told me about how the other day, during one of the tests that were made on this mock up, a steel ball weighing a lot was dropped from a height of 9 metres into the pool of water above. At first, the glass cracked as he observed from outside of the mock-up. Later, the steel ball was smashed into the glass ceiling for the second time and the whole thing caved in. The water being contained by the glass burst through the shattered glass. As described by Dad, it looked like a mini tsunami, whatever he meant. And yes, that’s what exactly he does for a job. Exerting pressure on things so that they give way and later concluding its durability and resistance to external forces.

Whenever I think about it, I think about a graph. There is the x-axis and the cosine curve. When the two lines intersect, they are in perfect harmony, in balance and blend. Of course, there would be times when the curve is above the x-axis and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. However, when the curve goes below the x-axis, it’s odd. I’m always caught unprepared by the fluctuating curve and most of the time, it’s unpredictable. Then again, I realise that this is the way a normal cosine graph should behave and I shouldn’t think too much about when it would intersect and go above the x-axis. But it seems bleak again. I can’t help it. You have matured a great deal and I was part of your immaturity.

Today, my eyes got teary so many times, for the most contrasting reasons.
At about 00.01, I was at the part where Eddie met Mageurite in heaven. I don’t know, every gesture, so subtle yet loving, gripped me. Then I found myself recollecting things I shouldn’t be thinking. Outside my window, I could hear rain pelting.
0650, I just stepped into class. Stole a 5 minute nap and something got in my eye. Probably an impurity on the sleeve of my blouse. My eyes reacted instantly.
1100. The discussion on models left us chattering and laughing so hard( thanks to ShaShaLisha and chocolate, strawberry and vanilla at America’s Next Top Model) , I reused the tissue that I had used in the morning.

Jen says the soul is sad, but the body doesn’t know.

Red tag and Denim

2005-02-20T20:03:00.000-08:00

The week started off with cookie madness. 4 hours in the kitchen and you get over a hundred cookies. And then it was morning exercise on the staircases and corridors, distributing hugs and sealing everyone with 3 Frankies. The day ended with a huge and noble decision though, so humungous to behold, I’m still cringing at its weight.

Then it was salad day. Wrong ingredients. I choked and spat. Quite shocking because I always thought that salads would taste healthy and good, especially since I added tomatoes this time.

Its like perfume, the fragrance lasts on you for a while then slowly fades off. Then you have to press the nozzle once again and spray. It’s a confidence thing. Once you cannot smell it anymore, you get a little distraught and unstable. I’ve been so used to that signature scent, I take it for granted. But once it fades, I realized how much I’m missing it. Then again, its out of stock at cosmetics counters and I don’t think they’re importing anymore. So this is it and I’ve to adapt to the raw smell of head and shoulders shampoo. So far, adaptation’s been successful, except there would be pangs of nostalgia once in a while.

I finally get the real meaning of a five day week. On Saturday, Mom could get off week and we could spend the afternoon eating seafood for lunch. Then it was tai-tai spotting and some mirror reflections in changing rooms. After this round, she made me swear not to ask her to bring me out for 3 months. =p Naughty naughty.

Red Season 2005

2005-02-20T19:39:00.000-08:00

This week’s been pretty weird, considering the 2 public holidays that seemed to be nowhere in between and drastically different events that have been occupying each day of the week.

MONDAY was girls’-evening-together. We had a hilarious few hours laughing our heads silly while catching a glimpse of a blonde busted woman’s life, namely Bridget Jones. Then it was dinner and my room.

TUESDAY came and went.
-Big strawberry mousse cake in Cyn’s room
-Taking photos in the girls’ washroom at Rosyth.
-Splattered root beer on the floor and uniform due to the loss of control over the funny bone
-Mum’s apparent explosion when I came home late enough to skip all the reunion lunch preparations
-Early retirement to the bed

WEDNESDAY AND THURSDAY
-Convection currents in chrysanthemum tea at a Chinese restaurant. This was confirmed by the swirling loose petals of the chrysanthemum flower, seen through a glass cup
-Lots of incense
-Car-sick
- Ahahahaha! Lots of fire! Fire fire fire!!! Green, pink, yellow, blue sparks flirting with the rest of the dark night. And you sit on that quaint swing, the swing that I’ve seen through so many coats of paint and lie victim to vicious mozzies. But who cares??!!
-My cousins have seen me grown. They’ve felt my palms morphing in size. On that buzzing night, we witnessed mini fireworks together, blasting in those oh-so-radiant colours, contrasting so blatantly across the night sky. And then you look beyond your 45 degrees angle of elevation and stare up at the sky. There are no bright fireworks anymore. Instead, you see the stars that are so dense and pretty, you would get a sore neck from admiring them for too long. Even constellations could be seen and we sit swinging on that swing, lost for words and making out pictures among the stars with our fingers.
-We left on the following morning and drove out of that cosy town with palm tree plantations, cows, chameleons, rubber trees and secondary forests whizzing past us at a comfortable pace.

20/2 Actually, I’ve decided to abandon this blog entry. Blame it on inconsistency.

180.5.15

2005-02-06T13:49:00.000-08:00

Since the beginning of this week, I’ve been this floating piece of material in the sea, seeking desperately for land. Land to me was the weekend. On Friday night, almost rotten from the corrosion of sea salts (salts do not corrode actually), I saw a shore at 12am. And so, on Saturday morning, fine sand was beneath my feet and sea breeze was in my hair.

The day started with my neighbour refusing to say hello, even though our houses are only separated by one house. First, I thought I only had to put up with it at the lone bus stop. Second, I realized we had headed to the same destination when I saw him again in front of me at Dhoby Ghaut. Third, after he got home from whatever he was doing, he told his brother something, who in turn told my brother, who in turn told my mum, who in turn told me. So here I am reporting this incident.

Time frame: 11 plus to 12 plus.
Straggling seaweed tangling up toes
Salty water and salty hair
Someone pink and bubblery with someone blue and scrawny
Roving eyes
Reddening skin
Bobbling waves
Sturdy wraparound and easy lifting
Petty rain drops and we got out

Time frame: 2pm to 3pm
Some shuffle of feet
Quick bite at dough products
Kind, understanding friends
Quaint place at 42 Waterloo Street
Some staring and avoiding
The room upstairs
Got seats directly opposite Litty Teacher

Time frame: Roman Tam and the Three Bears
aka.
Between Chinas and Eveything But the Brain
This intriguing play’s main character is coincidentally named Elaine Lim. The real Elaine Lim that we all know teaches Biology, this fake one teaches Physics and is 36 years old. 2 things in the play seemed strangely connected to me. Fairy tales and Physics. Recently, there’s a speech that we have to make and mine’s about Fairy Tale flaws and Physics, my newfound interest in Science.
The main theme is Time. Clever descriptions of it that successfully assaulted all my brain cells. The tyranny of Time. The acidic Time that disperses hydrogen ions and slowly corrodes away your brain, taking out memories one by one, erasing your personality, disintegrating your character. The flexible Time, bending forward, stretching backwards, slowing down, moving fast.
The actors were magical. Once, Pamela Oei walked to the extreme end of the stage, right in front of me, her eyes heavy with emotion, deep in her character. Staring into those dark pupils would only make you weak and you shy away from that kind of intensity. Gerald Chew was spectacular at his Hong Kong accent. I liked it at least. And then there was the main plot of the story, which touched me so much and gave me a glimpse of how far one would go to provide for a helpless loved one, agonized by ageing. At some points, by the hospital bed and during insignificant gestures of love between the characters, I was so on the verge of tears, only to remember that red eyes wouldn’t be complimenting to red skin. =p
In the end, you determine whether it is a ‘happily ever after’ or not. That’s the sub-moral of the story.

Time frame: Before 7pm
I’ve got no more excuses to wear fake jewellery anymore.

8.5

2005-02-05T22:51:00.000-08:00

Remember the essay that I was stuck on the last time I blogged? Here it is, all completed in good order and sense. Since it’s about blogs anyway, it has earned its place here.

Do blogs reveal the real image of a person?

It is oil on canvas, watercolour on hot-pressed paper and acrylic on masonite. Blogs are online paintings of the author’s impression on his or her own life. Every blogger applies different strength on their creative strokes of colour. Some do it in brush splashes of angst, others in serene application of a pastel. The product is earthly beauty depicted through the artist’s vision.

The real image of a person cannot be determined. An online blog is but one way in which a person expresses his own inner thoughts. As a result, blogs can be seen to be more of a yardstick rather than a true reflection of a person. On the other hand, in our society of multiple personalities, deceptive masks and hidden faces, a blog may be the only channel for authentic expression.

I have left my footprints on blogs whose owners are in and out of the circle of my friends. Some people recount interesting events that are significant to them. Others share their thoughts and feelings on inspirational happening, incidents that provoke the heart’s senses, positive and negative ones alike. From all that visits to blogs, I have come to realise that people use these online diaries as platforms to vent their frustration and displeasure as well as bases to launch personal attacks. Even though the latter is not to be encouraged, I firmly believe that these expressions of bitterness are genuine. To think logically, no one would want to feign their anger or unhappiness, although some would seek to exaggerate, in the hope of gaining sympathy from the readers.

The way a person expresses himself in the form of words would inevitably reveal his character. A cheerful person would have a positive perception on an event that he recounts. The addition of jovial comments and laughable jokes are just some signs of a vivacious character. In contrast, a cranky person would criticize and be sarcastic in everything that he perceives, sadistic even. I came across this entry in a blog that stated that the sight of seeing someone trip in public was pure humour. Evidently, this is an idea of atrocity that would only dwell in the minds of the mentally corrupted.

Conversely, there are people out there who resort to blogs to create an entirely different image of themselves for various reasons. Teenagers, especially those who have poor social skills and are introverted, tend to be classified by their peers as the losers and the lowlifes. They despise their pathetic states and with cyberspace available, they jump at the chance for a new lease of life. Hiding their naked forms behind the opaque curtain of an online diary, they spin a web of deception that portrays the perfect personality they have in mind.

Another form of façade on blogs would be exaggeration and deviation. These bloggers are desperate for attention. They paint a poignant picture of themselves and write as if the whole world has forgotten their existence. I came upon this blog that contained only entries of depression. The author would talk about cutting her own wrist because her mother refused to let her out with her friends and complaining about other very trival things. At first, I felt sympathetic towards her but after a while, that emotion faded and I was disgusted at how she struggles to make everyone feel sorry for her. In a similar manner, there is another type of people who want the green of readers’ faces. They strive to make people envy them and concoct lies that would help strengthen their image. Although I’m not in a position to question the authencity of the content in these blogs, I’m convinced that these authors are not what they appear to be.

At the end of the day, blogs are just another feature of the world wide web where reality gives way to the virtual aspect of things. No one can make a rule that blogs are only meant for the truth of things, nor can we say that those who do not speak the truth are abusing these online diaries. An artist is a fickle and unpredictable person. With a brush in hand, he can determine what appears on the canvas and what does not. Beneath those layers of thick paint however, there may be slight evidence of the artist’s real identity.

Vigorously fiddling with a brush,
Jw

Revival

2005-01-29T15:57:00.000-08:00

I write this entry at the weirdest of settings. Apologies again to regular readers here, I didn’t keep my promise of updating this place at least once a week. Anyway, back to the topic. I’ve resorted to blogging right here and now because I’m stuck at an essay in class. What’s the essay topic? Blogs! And I thought I would have tonnes to write about. Sadly for now, its just the introduction on some silly illustration, wait…or is it imagery? 26/1/05

Continued on 28/1
The more I don’t record stuff, the more I lose touch with this blog. Let’s see, last week started with triple science tests and me looking forward to the Friday. And then came Friday. The whole family abandoned me for a getaway across the causeway. Not like I wanted to go, but I was left alone waiting for my death sentence on Monday – Math Test. But I went to sleep feeling elated cos it signaled the start of a sisterhood, made up of 4 ponytail bearers. Finally, a missing part of me is in place, like a jigsaw puzzle reunited with a missing piece, I’ve got sisters! Ok, that was a dramatic description. Sounds gross. So, Friday, 21st of Jan is officially Sister Day.

Next day was Saturday. No direct transport was available so I had to resort to taking the first green bus of the day to school for CO. Practice as usual, except for Bin Man’s very pragmatic view of our SYF outcome. I thought it was very real, even thought it’s quite disheartening. He’s got a funny thing about percentages. He likes to do a mental calculation of the probability of getting a gold. Impressive as it may sound, but I think its totally inaccurate, even worse than my miscalculation for the mean value in the math test today. So practice ended like all other practices and I was on my way home. The only difference was, I met so many people I knew that were going to town. The itch started to spread and once I got home, I started bugging Aunty about shopping. Of course, she couldn’t do anything except getting lunch ready for me.

Continued on 29/1
Ok, I promise to finish this entry by today. Credits to the new picture on my blog: sketchblogs.com. If you find the picture interesting, I recommend you to go visit the website. Its really pretty. This lady even won an award for all her pretty sketches. Very impressive. Talking about shopping the last time, I went out and bought some stuff in the end. I think Jen has caught a glimpse of what I bought in the form of words in my diary. Too bad she didn’t get what all that mumbo jumbo meant. Hehe. And so, one week has past. No ripples, just still life.

You know, the days are so routine that I resort to amuse people around me with nonsense. On Thursday, during Social Studies lesson, while Thin Tan was lecturing us on how to answer source-based questions properly, I sought to observe her every movement and gesture and recorded them down. These are the results:

Her lesson lasts for 2 periods so when the first bell rang, I saw how she frowned so slightly. She’s impatient. Halfway, she asked how we spent our assembly learning ‘life skills’. When someone told her how we played with plasticine the other time, she shrieked in delight. She’s fascinated. The thumbtack that we left on the teacher’s table irritated her. She’s got funny palm actions. She has long rebounded hair that refuses to stay behind the ear. With her hair always covering her face, there would be instances when she look up and becomes the living example of the persistent ghost in Shutter, AAAaaahhhh. In fact, I want to present her the ‘Favourite Nightmare Character’ Award. Sometimes, its good to be a controversial personality. People would take notice of you and dedicate some of their time describing and observing you. Congrats, Thin Tan.

Amusement number 2 happened during English lesson on the same day. Dear Mrs Lee was wearing grey pants and a beaded turquoise top. I thought the colours went quite well because they seemed familiar to me. When I took my eyes off her and they landed on my pencil case, I realized that my markers were in her outfit’s colour. Exactly the same shade of grey and turquoise. So I held them up and waved them to anyone whom I could grabbed attention from. Very silly, so silly that someone who wasn’t in a good mood might smack me on my head. Ooops, I hope Mrs Lee didn’t see what I was doing. But even if she did, she might not realise the significance of the 2 Markers.

Interesting how things went along. From frivolous declaration to silence, then discreet declaration that made me suffer from 10 minutes insomia. It was sweet in the past and sweeter now.

Jw exits and promises to come back soon.

Lots of thoughts

2005-01-15T23:43:00.000-08:00

This is a weekly update. So readers would have to wait for another week for my next entry. Apologies.

The jack-in-the-box lay in the nursery, illuminated by the pretty pink wall papers around. Little Girl sat in front of it with glee. Jack had been out of the box for quite long, before Little Girl stepped in. So all she had ever saw was Jack’s face, he was never in the box. She noticed he’s radiant cheeks, protruding from a porcelain face and this big smile that stretches across a substantial amount of surface area. Then there were his eyes, those living circles made of blue glass. You stare into them and get lost in them. Although Jack looked charming and harmless enough, it had another dark side. Beyond that friendly wide grin, was a sick element. A pity Little Girl never realized, until it started to take advantage of her innocence and ignorance.

Little Girl went into the nursery again. This time, Jack was in the box. She was taken by surprise. Ever since her first visit, Jack had greeted her, but this time, he was not there. Instead, a plain black and white checked box had replaced his staggering presence. Little Girl went up to the box in curiosity and bewilderment. She walked around it in rounds, inspecting it, knocking on the sides of the box and placing her ear against it.

Suddenly, Jack sprung up.

Little Girl stared at it, tears in her eyes. Jack had not spared her from shock. It had cruelly sprung up when she had never anticipated it. She sat on the floor, tears still streaming, betrayed by Jack. Now, she could see beyond that grin. Now, his eyes looked evil. Now, he had a mocking face. Jack was laughing at her. Little Girl ran out of the pink room, never returning.

You scared me.

~ another thought~

3 times a week!! This is serious business. Never before have we tried this on a long term basis. I guess its time to rough it out and leave no space for mistakes to occur. We shall push to bring out the maximum of our capabilities, living with no regrets after that. Its not about how hard you practice sometimes, its more like your ability to handle the practice. For the people who are contributing to the orchestra by blowing air, please go train up your stamina! Go run! Go swim! Go jump! Its no use if you try to prolong your blowing by just practicing and trying to break your previous record of …. Seconds. You must work on the basic requirements first. This is so important because lots of marks depend on you guys. All the Way please!! =))

~another thought~

On friday, I heard a real voice. Although it sung songs that belonged to the upper generations, it never made me roll my eyes. There was this richness that was admirable. I realised, the best voice and music you can ever hear is live playing and singing. Like DUH. =p Especially when everything reaches a high, you just feel like kowtowing to everyone on stage. It didnt matter that the average age of the whole audience was 40-50+, for once. All it mattered was the quality of things that were entering your ear, the majestic wave lengths.

~another thought~

Today, 2 reptiles were basking under the afternoon sun. One was facing the fire ball, the other was facing the one facing the fire ball. Their skins just started to get dry and dehydrated. Slithering things, they ended up in the middle of green grass later. It was cooler there. Too bad, the sun followed them and they found their way into a dense secondary rainforest. In there, among the shady plants and crooked wooden sticks, they found finally rested in peace. Reptiles are troublesome creatures.

~another thought~

Although there’s no common ground, it’s the spiritual thing that is keeping up. Funny how silence is just comfort when its supposed to mean that things are distant and apart.

~thoughts end here~

Jw!

Best Mess, Cool Fool

2005-01-10T20:44:00.000-08:00

ppphheeeWW. The first week of school was everything high-flying. And I found out, to entertain people of my brother’s age, you still need to be brimming with lots and lots and lots of energy. So for the past week, I’ve been eating lots of glucose-inflated foods. Anyway, back to the point, I’m playing counselor of this lovely sec one class: 1L. Moving back 3 years ago, I was in that very class, 1L, hopeful and wide-eyed.

It’s been a great experience, accompanying these 13 year olds here and there, everywhere in school. Vibrant characters, I’ve met. Some chatty, some spontaneous, some quiet and demure, others determined and competitive. Comparing them to myself when I was in sec one, this bunch of pretty girls seem to be much more mature. Most of them carry Roxy and OP wallets. That’s beside the point, but still, I sort of admire them. =) Go sec ones!

During their camp in school on Friday and Saturday, the class became bonded and united for the very first time. Inter-class competitions were held and we managed to clinch 2nd for Flag/ Class logo design. Yayness. Me and Annabel were screaming our heads off on camp fire night, all because of a silly award and another game that we managed to come in 1st. I bet the sec ones wouldn’t want to hear us scream again. That night, we had a warm fuzzy session and everyone had to write sweet notes to someone, like drop it in their envelope. We poor counselors had to write for everyone in class, which meant penning 38 paragraphs of words. Daunting? Not at all, it was hilarious. On the hard carpet of the air-con classroom, jen, nana and me were lying flat on our stomachs furiously recounting faces and incidents. Of course, there were other counselors as well, together with us in this plight. I think we laughed too hard the whole night. I like esp this St johns person. What’s her name again? She had this crazy giggle. Every time she made this funny sound, I would spot a Khong Guan biscuit stuck in her mouth. You see, we were hungry people that night, anything edible, we would grab. So we fed on biscuits from the tin and spicy Pringles sponsored by nana. By the way, I think cream and cream crackers make a good combination. So forgive me for digging into the tin and upsetting the other plastic holders to find The One.

We slept for 3 and a half hours. The next day, it was cca fair and boy, I developed an instant arm ache. But it was fun anyway. The thrilling part of it is to hear the echo-ish sounds of CO’s percussion. Since we were in the forum, we could bluff our volume through. Yay. I think the sec ones were impressed. = p Ok, the day ended with Mr Seth’s weird join-hands ceremony and some cold apple pie sponsored by Macs. Next thing I knew, I found myself cuddling into blankie. = )

I found a great way to stay awake in class. Pop fishermen’s friend candy. Available in a variety of flavours, up to your tastebuds. For now, its Apple and Cinnamon.
Jw

New Year's opening

2005-01-01T18:49:00.000-08:00

The potter had a project in mind. He wanted to make a pot that was bold, dramatic and different. In his sketch plans, his masterpiece appeared on paper. Soon, he was going to start implementing it.

That night, the final detail and dimensions were finally set out. All he had to do was to start moulding clay. He turned on his pottery machine and started smoothing his hands with the ingredients from Earth. Hour after hour, he sat at his work place, concentrated and determined.

The basic shape of the pot had been formed. But suddenly, as suddenly as a cockroach jumping out of the pipes, his fingers defied his initial plans. They manipulated the soft clay and turned it into a wholly different pot. Nothing like what he had in mind. The action was irreversible. There was no way he could go back to the original shape. Not like he really wanted to, but he regretted it, to some small extent.

You changed and it made me change. But there was something in those things you said that ran deep into me, like some hidden meaning of sorts. And although there was a revival after that, it would not erase the initial impression you gave me. I think I lost the old you first and now, maybe you have lost the old me overnight.

Searing thing you made in me and now, it would never recover.

Oriental Mystery, Feline Mystery

2004-12-30T14:28:00.000-08:00

There has been a rumour within the great inner wall, that encloses the powerhouse of the country and separates it from the ugliness of the world.

The rumour revolves around a family heirloom, hidden too cleverly, within the palace walls. It was not up to the person’s intelligence to find it. In fact, those whose fate entwines with it would be drawn to it spiritually. (eeks, sounds scary) Only those worthy of such a thing of prestige, would be able to chance upon it. Perhaps keep it for her own even.

This night, Chinese Princess was unable to fall asleep. Maybe it was the howling wind against the paper windows. Maybe it was the heavy swishing of the bamboo shoots outside. But whatever it is, her heart kept fluttering and her mind was in a whirl. Suddenly, she fell off bed, landing on the cold marble floor in an awkward position. She shivered as the icy floor stole that cultivated warmth that belonged to her body. Chinese Princess winced in slight pain. She had landed right below the edge of her bed and the underside of her four post canopy bed was in full view to her. Some coarse moonlight filtered through her windows in distracted rays. It was a square cut-out in the middle of the wooden board that was the underside of her bed that caught her attention.

She inched like a mature caterpillar into her bed’s nether regions and stared at the square cut-out. With hesitant fingers, she pushed against the wooden board. The square came off and like a tray, a piece of Emerald rested on the flat surface. The Emerald was nothing she had seen before. Among her own private collection of precious and semi-precious gems, there was nothing like it. The piece of mineral that lay so peacefully in her palm was as big as a mini dictionary. Not only was it green, but it was a deep glowing green that seemed to have hypnotizing properties. She came out from under her bed and let the cuts of the Emerald flirt under the moonlight. It was unbelievable. The beauty, the rarity, the attractiveness, the entire thing. She could not take her eyes off it. And she stared at it like a lost child, her eyes boring into the stone and its green engulfing her. Slowly, she fell asleep unknowingly, clutching the mysterious object as it radiated strange coolness.

Funny thing, when Chinese Princess woke up in the morning and looked at her piece of Emerald, it had lost its shade of luscious green. What came into her pupils was a shade of sweet peridot. She slid it under her blanket and went off to carry on with her daily routine, like any other day.

~not related

I’m curious like a cat because a cat followed us on that trail home. It intercepted our paths so many times and we had to stop our tracks and give way to it. Sometimes, it would jump from behind me or it would just tread precariously on a thin line of space behind us. Other times, it would just roll on the floor and expose its white belly. How often do cats do that unless they trust you?

The best thing of all, the cat is black with white paws and yellow eyes. Actually, they look more like amber. A few times, I stared into them and they stared straight into mine as well. When we stopped under that usual tree, it encircled around us. It even rolled over, sat down and stared at us. Why would a cat even care about immobile humans? Why would it not leave and accompany us under that tree? Once, its tail brushed against your leg and once, it brushed against mine too. Such startling coincidence. There must be something about this black cat. Everyone says black cats are just omens of bad luck. I’m not too sure. Maybe it was the pack of Pedigree dog food that we were carrying. Hmm, maybe not, cos you left it there and the cat did not even sniff the bag.

Ahhhh! Cats cats cats cats cats. That cat, did seem to be attracted to us. Some bond that made its animal instincts trust us. Maybe it was a reincarnated form of someone you knew in your past life. Freaky. When we went separate ways, it followed you. Confirmation: it could sense the soul in you, who you were and what you are.

Ok, sorry, I shall stop my prediction nonsense, nonsensical nonsense, fortune telling nonsense and superstitious nonsense. It’s just a cat. Or was it??

Kittens’ mittens and muffled meows,
Jw.

Opera Populaire

2004-12-30T00:03:00.000-08:00

Yesterday’s adventure was planned in Dad’s car on Tuesday night. We had to watch Phantom of the Opera. So it was another Wednesday with Leen the Queen and another movie with Kath the Tallie. =)

It takes a something that is within you to appreciate a movie musical, like Phantom. You need to have a curiosity for the Opera arts and you cannot cringe at their high pitched singing. And there are also the vibrant colours, the plunging necklines that expose lots of cleavage, clown make up and elegant costumes. The whole show’s quite slow and towards the end, you would be left wondering when it will end.

I tried reading the novel once but the settings got too confusing for my puny brain. Maybe it was because the Angel of Music never revealed itself in the presence of Christine and there were weird lakes underneath the Opera House. To me, it didn’t make sense until I saw the movie. I always thought the whole plot was as mysterious as the Phantom. Until I saw the movie again. Pictures do help.

Objects that made an impact:
- Old post card in the beginning
- Don Juan
- Red perfume that I thought was acid
- Monkey musical box
- Christine’s night gown
- Rose with black ribbon
- Corsets
- Poodles
- Masquerades
- Swords
- Grey graveyards
- Candles
- Ropes for strangling
- Seaweed stuck at some auto gate
- Mirrors
- Engagement ring
- Ballerinas
- Chandelier
- Red Seats

Granny and her Apple Pie

2004-12-26T12:59:00.000-08:00

In a little cottage on the Swiss Alps, where snowflakes were caressing everything in its way and the whole place was a vast space of white, a demure old lady was busying herself away in the kitchen. This Christmas, she was baking her specialty apple pie. A pie that would bring all other pies in the world to shame. What makes her apple pie so special? so out-of-the-world?, you might ask. Her secret technique is kneading the dough continuously for one full day. Every speck of flour added is smoothened into dough, every grain of sugar added is rubbed into the dough so invisibly. What turns out is a flawless spat of whitish creamy substance, ready to hold the generous filling of apple puree, extracted from apples that were picked from the finest apple trees in some distant and sacred orchard.

But something went wrong this year. Our dear granny’s eyesight has betrayed her and she measured the wrong amount of ingredients. In the end, the dough that she had so arduously prepared for one full day was only enough to fill 8/9 of the pie pan. Another 1/9 of pie pan space was left vacant. Looks like she had to knead dough all over again, just to fill the space up and make a full 9/9 pie. Dang.

Nevertheless, Granny took it in her stride and she repeated the procedure all over again. She sat in the kitchen all day, kneading her precious pie dough ever so lovingly and patiently. Her skilful fingers smoothed out every crease in the dough and she mould it over and over again. By Christmas night at 9pm, it was almost completed. One last fold of the dough and she was ready to let it join the other 8/9 of the mixture.

At 11.15pm, Granny tipped the full mixture into the pie pan, exhausted but satisfied. She had expected the delay to last till Boxing Day but it did not. She pushed the pan into the oven in her cosy brick kitchen and turned on the heat. Alas, Granny made herself a cup of thick coffee and hobbled towards the living room. She collapsed into her pinewood rocking chair and propped her tired feet on a nearby stool. There, she slowly sipped her warm coffee, watching the firewood in the fireplace burn savagely and the white patter outside through her curtained window. Flirty whiffs of delicious sweetness travelled from the kitchen and past Granny’s wrinkled nose. She smiled in contentment.

Finally, the circle around me is round.

Best Shopping Pal

2004-12-22T18:31:00.000-08:00

Who’s got this top honour? *drum roll*

Leen the Queen.

Yay, maybe I should give her a shirt that says that right in front. Gosh, the long awaited shopping spree has finally arrived. Actually, I had promised Mum the night before that I wouldn’t spend at all but I realized that this would be madly impossible. What a silly vow.

Today, I spent the most on a pretty present for someone. Dear girl, I even had the courtesy to msg you, informing what I got for you. Guess what? I’m even jealous cos its so pretty! Next on the top-price list is a squishy, spongy black thing for myself. Then Mum’s silver chunky diamond-shaped earrings. Lastly, Aunty Ranjani’s gorgeous lily mug, sophisticated ware. Funny thing. This year, only ladies in the house came to my mind while shopping for prezzies. Whatever happened to Dydad’s, and the kiddies’ too? Ooops.

Leen made me promise her 3 things:
1) Get the Yellow top
2) Get the Robot top
3) Go out with her again

But I guess I can only fulfill the last one because, hello? I’m not rich. Besides, trying them on in the fitting room is enough for me at this point in time. Unless, hmm, I source out a sponser.

Anyway, I think the fitting room saga was really interesting. Like how you can fall in love with all three tops at the same time, but only choose one out of them. Leen, I’m really glad you ended up with the dark green one in the end, cos it’s really nicccce. Sophisticated ware, again.

Walking down Orchard Road is quite a heart wrenching experience now. With this Christmas season, people are going around asking for donations, telling you the organizations that they represent and how you can help the unfortunate. Although I don’t doubt their authenticity, but I feel that they shouldn’t target on little girls like us. I mean, I’m on a tight budget right now and it’s a really horrid feeling to walk away not parting a single cent. In the end, you total up the amount you’ve donated and it turns out quite substantial. Come to think of it, the next time I go Christmas shopping, I should tie my hair in 2 ponytails and wear a Barbie shirt.

Oh! This is a tried and tested method to scrimp on lunch. Just walk into Breadtalk and buy 2 buns. Salty one for the main course and sweet one for dessert. You even save lots of time while you walk and eat. Today’s set was Bacon and Cheese + Chocolate Crossiant.

Ok, I finally have something to put under the Christmas Tree. It’s a great feeling you know.

ShirtSkirtHeels,
Jw

Mazurka in flies motion.

2004-12-19T20:35:00.000-08:00

These days, I’ve been taking random doses of pills. Namely, Pill T, Pill K, Pill H and Pill J. And to prevent them from going bad before the expiry date (actually there’s no expiry date), here are some useful methods to maintain them in their best state.

Preservation tips:

1) Always keep Pill K in a thermos flask. It is not good to leave it out at room temperature because it might just turn cold and hard. – advised by Mum
2) Pill T is a feel-good pill. It’s not always available, being a little pricey. But when the time comes, it’s advisable to pop a few at a time. The effect would last you for quite a while.
3) To get the full blast from Pill H, you need to take it slowly and take as much time as you want.
4) When you’re going away for a period of time, remember to melt Pill J using whatever heating device. This would prevent it from freezing at room temperature. Once it freezes, it cannot be consumed anymore. However, there are ways to defrost, but its not worth it anyway. – contributed by a friend who has done the same thing.

-not related-

The person wants you to draw an apple, but you drew an orange. The orange was so real, so pretty, so magnificent. But what for? It’s still an apple that the person wants. The second person shuts off and leans on something soft to soothe away into the buzzing silence.

Jw exits at centre stage.

Another Fire Drill

2004-12-16T20:20:00.000-08:00

It didn’t hit me as hard as it did onto you. It seemed like I knew once again, that it would never work. Just like previous fruitless attempts. In the end, we’ve got no strawberries, no mangoes, no grapes. Then again, the other side of me kept reminding myself that this was for real. You were serious, I was serious. Even the crossing of that road seemed climatic. Like the last time we were going to play a silly game within a time limit.

That night, the past explosions didn’t matter anymore. I just wanted to crap and stay on the line. There was this silly background music that proved too sappy and sentimental. Ooops, I shouldn’t have turned it on. I guess that was the reason why your surroundings became a little dusty and mine, a little misty.

Late into 13 o’clock, Froggie went into bed, distracted and crushed.

The next day, sediments from yesterday settled deep down. This sudden realization that hey , there’s no more left! The whole day, while in the cosy D room, then the place where our first conversation sprouted, then the familiar M room, part of my dense brain was occupied. Majority with what I was doing right at that moment and Majority with something else. And so, by the time the day ended, I was tired and brain dead. The results from thinking too much. Luckily, Dad came back from hk just in time to drag my body home.

At home, I refused to take a dip in the shower. Slacking after dinner lasted till 9. The rest of the time, a talkshow with Mum progressed. For more than an hour, our topic never diverted. It stayed still and loyal. I emerged from the sofa a hyper and desperate person. I needed to tell you stuff quickly and immediately. Looks like the call just in time to save my friend from further depression.

Sorry if I was evil to pull you up from the downs to the ups so crazily. And all that you’ve done to express your downs have really gone down the drain.
Ironically, it was the entry that was extremely dusty. It got stuck in my eyes quite a bit.

Now, ‘say cheese!’
Jw

Miss Rose

2004-12-12T00:40:00.000-08:00

‘When things come in short and sweet, they always remain memorable…’, as quoted from TIC.

This year, camp was 2 days and a night. This year, we’re in charge, reining the annual highlight of CO. This year, we had dinner at the cosy family lounge and breakfast at the fake cybercafé. This year, night trail was different and thanks to the brightest and quirkiest ideas from the whole of our beloved comm, we did it.
Of course, learning from mistakes is important and I guess we do in fact have many things to keep in mind. Si Jia, Huei Minn, Tammy and Hui Chi, its your turn next year, be sure to add more oil!!

Ok, let me talk about night trail, since it was the climax of the day. We borrowed a box of dramatic makeup from the dramatic Hua Hui. For the costumes, we had dear Sylvia to provide us with 2 pretty cheongsams and other accessories, Hui Chi to lend me her antique wooden comb and paper umbrella. At 7.40, while the rest were happily dining away and eating heartily at the family lounge on buffet, we were already setting up our stations and gathering at the 3 Hope toilet. I carefully divided my face in half with pale foundation and Si Jia helped me with the mascara that got in my eye. (thankew Dino!) Then Sylvia’s cutey mumsies helped with purple and green eyeshadow. Finally, after much anticipation, we heard the first footsteps and virgin screams along the corridor. Night Trail has officially begun.

First group that came in, they switched on the lights, which silly me had forgot to put into consideration. So maybe the shock impact wasn’t really great for them. Shortly after, while Cai Qin was still whining on the tape recorder, TIC came in with syl’s mumsies, and guess what, TIC was scared of me. With the lights on somemore. She said I looked like Anita Mui in one of her ghostly shows which she starred in with Leslie Chung. 2 dead people. How scary. The subsequent groups that came in, I decided to stand near the door of the toilet and instructed them not to on the lights. Once they were all in the dark creepy toilet with mirrors along the arched wall, Tammy would take my cue and start playing the tape recording. Way to go Tam, Dino and HM!!! Three of you did a great squeeze-in-the-cubicle job. =)
I remember hongpei’s group: it was a great attempt to make me loose my straight face. First, the cockroach scare on the toilet floor ( I thought it was a pure lie which turned out to be real =/ ), then the corny jokes and lame comments that came along. I was already laughing like super mad beneath that solemn composure.

The night ended with fleeting disco lights made by torchlights wrapped in cellophane paper across the MPR. Our dear sec fours came up with a hearty little rendition of a F4 song and commies acted out the skit which revealed the answer for night trail’s murder case. Very dark and tragic eh? We turned in at 2.30am after dinner and bath, finally tucked in nice squishy sleeping bags. Ooops, sorry Dino, for limiting your sleeping space and knocking you hard on your knee, I was probably too deep in slumber to realise that I had curled up into a ball on the floor. =p

The night was over in about 3 hours and dawn came. Breakfast was yummy this year, especially with the jiggling packets of soya milk which was delivered right to our doorstep at the right temperature. Yay. With the prize presentation and sparkling juice session over, TIC closed camp 2004.

We are members of a bunch of chopsticks, Miss Fire Train almost broke you alone. Notice I used the word, ALMOST. We stand together, unbreakable.

It was a sudden and random idea from me, inspired from the painting job in the canteen. With all the stores closed, the only option was to eat out. And eat out we really did. Soupy and dried noodles with fishy content at the foodcourt. Soon, it was down to mozzie paradise, its rainforest trail, its plant area, its pavilion and its pretty benches.

Tomato sauce galore.

Lovingly,
Jw.

BG

2004-12-07T19:07:00.000-08:00

I realise a startling trend. The more eventful a day is, the less you want to write about it. I’ve come up with a fishbone diagram in my head and analysed this bloody phenomenon. Below are the fundamental reasons for it:
- It’s too eventful, there are so many things to write about and you’re lazy to repeat it in words.
- It’s too yummy, you don’t want to share it with others.
- It’s only eventful to you, and others would be too bored reading it, so you decide not to write.

The day was foggy and misty. The air was nostril-friendly, skin-friendly and hair-friendly. There was a dank quality about it but it still felt really lightweight and cool. Um mm. Frenzied Froggie rested its hind legs on a damp bench, not really wet, but caressed by the solitary falling leaves from a nearby tree. It stomach was rumbling, churning with unused acid used for digesting all sorts of flying nonsense. Suddenly, a familiar buzzing sound sounded strangely delightful. Frenzied Froggie’s muscles tensed up in an instant.

Reeeebbbook. Frenzied Froggie licked her lips. Reeeebbbooook. She licked for the second time. Reeeebbbboook. And the third time.

Frogs do take a while to relax their muscles, but sometimes, do still remain quite tensed. Lucky for Frenzied Froggie, or maybe unfortunately for her, she has this lagging muscle problem which had to be resolved by Dr Doggie, one of the best masseurs in the ecosystem. Dr Doggie came just in time to rescue our poor amphibian, Um mmm. The massage takes place in about *tick tock tick tock*, a few minutes.

Ooooh, soon enough, Fried Froggie, Frenzied Froggie’s Significant Other came around hopping to a place right beside her. Their slimy earl green skin rubbing against each other and their eyes of big and small staring into blankness in front of them. Talking about eyes, their eyes act as mirrors for each other sometimes. The smooth, crystal clear curvature of their eyeballs would be sparkly and full of reflective properties. (like duhhh.) Anyway, the froggies sat on the bench for a long time. So long that their earl green skin almost dissolved into slimy putty, enough to stick them together like frog-brand glue.

Reeeeebbboook. ‘My skin’s getting dry. We need to go back into the pond in another 15 minutes’.

900 hundred seconds past. Fried and Frenzied Froggie got up to leave, hopping into collected puddles of muddy rainy water, forming drastic concentric circles. Suddenly, Fried Froggie paused and Frenzied Froggie was a little taken aback. Why, you might ask? Fried Froggie, when interviewed, declined to comment. Even Frenzied Froggie still remains half-puzzled because, I suspect, she knows half the truth. Get your fractions right.

BG

I realise a startling trend. The more eventful a day is, the less you want to write about it. I’ve come up with a fishbone diagram in my head and analysed this bloody phenomenon. Below are the fundamental reasons for it:
- It’s too eventful, there are so many things to write about and you’re lazy to repeat it in words.
- It’s too yummy, you don’t want to share it with others.
- It’s only eventful to you, and others would be too bored reading it, so you decide not to write.

The day was foggy and misty. The air was nostril-friendly, skin-friendly and hair-friendly. There was a dank quality about it but it still felt really lightweight and cool. Um mm. Frenzied Froggie rested its hind legs on a damp bench, not really wet, but caressed by the solitary falling leaves from a nearby tree. It stomach was rumbling, churning with unused acid used for digesting all sorts of flying nonsense. Suddenly, a familiar buzzing sound sounded strangely delightful. Frenzied Froggie’s muscles tensed up in an instant.

Reeeebbbook. Frenzied Froggie licked her lips. Reeeebbbooook. She licked for the second time. Reeeebbbboook. And the third time.

Frogs do take a while to relax their muscles, but sometimes, do still remain quite tensed. Lucky for Frenzied Froggie, or maybe unfortunately for her, she has this lagging muscle problem which had to be resolved by Dr Doggie, one of the best masseurs in the ecosystem. Dr Doggie came just in time to rescue our poor amphibian, Um mmm. The massage takes place in about *tick tock tick tock*, a few minutes.

Ooooh, soon enough, Fried Froggie, Frenzied Froggie’s Significant Other came around hopping to a place right beside her. Their slimy earl green skin rubbing against each other and their eyes of big and small staring into blankness in front of them. Talking about eyes, their eyes act as mirrors for each other sometimes. The smooth, crystal clear curvature of their eyeballs would be sparkly and full of reflective properties. (like duhhh.) Anyway, the froggies sat on the bench for a long time. So long that their earl green skin almost dissolved into slimy putty, enough to stick them together like frog-brand glue.

Reeeeebbboook. ‘My skin’s getting dry. We need to go back into the pond in another 15 minutes’.

900 hundred seconds past. Fried and Frenzied Froggie got up to leave, hopping into collected puddles of muddy rainy water, forming drastic concentric circles. Suddenly, Fried Froggie paused and Frenzied Froggie was a little taken aback. Why, you might ask? Fried Froggie, when interviewed, declined to comment. Even Frenzied Froggie still remains half-puzzled because, I suspect, she knows half the truth. Get your fractions right.

BG

I realise a startling trend. The more eventful a day is, the less you want to write about it. I’ve come up with a fishbone diagram in my head and analysed this bloody phenomenon. Below are the fundamental reasons for it:
- It’s too eventful, there are so many things to write about and you’re lazy to repeat it in words.
- It’s too yummy, you don’t want to share it with others.
- It’s only eventful to you, and others would be too bored reading it, so you decide not to write.

The day was foggy and misty. The air was nostril-friendly, skin-friendly and hair-friendly. There was a dank quality about it but it still felt really lightweight and cool. Um mm. Frenzied Froggie rested its hind legs on a damp bench, not really wet, but caressed by the solitary falling leaves from a nearby tree. It stomach was rumbling, churning with unused acid used for digesting all sorts of flying nonsense. Suddenly, a familiar buzzing sound sounded strangely delightful. Frenzied Froggie’s muscles tensed up in an instant.

Reeeebbbook. Frenzied Froggie licked her lips. Reeeebbbooook. She licked for the second time. Reeeebbbboook. And the third time.

Frogs do take a while to relax their muscles, but sometimes, do still remain quite tensed. Lucky for Frenzied Froggie, or maybe unfortunately for her, she has this lagging muscle problem which had to be resolved by Dr Doggie, one of the best masseurs in the ecosystem. Dr Doggie came just in time to rescue our poor amphibian, Um mmm. The massage takes place in about *tick tock tick tock*, a few minutes.

Ooooh, soon enough, Fried Froggie, Frenzied Froggie’s Significant Other came around hopping to a place right beside her. Their slimy earl green skin rubbing against each other and their eyes of big and small staring into blankness in front of them. Talking about eyes, their eyes act as mirrors for each other sometimes. The smooth, crystal clear curvature of their eyeballs would be sparkly and full of reflective properties. (like duhhh.) Anyway, the froggies sat on the bench for a long time. So long that their earl green skin almost dissolved into slimy putty, enough to stick them together like frog-brand glue.

Reeeeebbboook. ‘My skin’s getting dry. We need to go back into the pond in another 15 minutes’.

900 hundred seconds past. Fried and Frenzied Froggie got up to leave, hopping into collected puddles of muddy rainy water, forming drastic concentric circles. Suddenly, Fried Froggie paused and Frenzied Froggie was a little taken aback. Why, you might ask? Fried Froggie, when interviewed, declined to comment. Even Frenzied Froggie still remains half-puzzled because, I suspect, she knows half the truth. Get your fractions right.

The masseur and the fried frog is one,
Jw.

T01 ALERT!!!!!

2004-12-05T14:42:00.000-08:00

*blares the red siren*
Dear guys,
Mrs Ng is so fuzzy wuzzy. She wants to attend our weddings and she insists that we call her the next time we have a dinner date at nydc. Hmm, i'll copy her reply onto our blog k? you guys will have to go check out the more detailed details.

Love, Jw.

oh, and by the way, we need to get engaged sooooon. =p

Taiwanese Statements

2004-12-04T14:54:00.000-08:00

Since I’m back into the loving cradle of my fellow mates, I shall be a lil’ bit truthful about the OTHER country.

I was really touched when my phone started buzzing the normal way it used to a week ago, the moment I opened my eyes from eternal slumber. Helium-inflated conductor came first, then it was dearest kath, then the long awaited bad friend, then Annabel and Sut Yee. For those who have enquired about my trip, I’m sorry that I lied. Cos it was boring most of the time, except for the mountain trails and the meals with daddy’s clients.(lol) Wait, that was supposed to be boring. =p

Next up, the rest of the trip in cheap point-form.

- Hotels have bad beds. The only consolation is that you can be warm and fuzzy under its cotton blankies.
- At last, after checking into different hotels every night, I found one with a bathtub worthy of a bubble bath. So I stayed in the tub for like half an hour with a bar soap. Apologies to bros, who decided to come up with thumping rhythms on the door after waiting too long.
- There are so many stores selling betel nuts along the roads, streets and highways. These stores are entirely made up of clear glass and you can always sneak a peep at some girl sitting in there. What’s so special? It’s the see-through dresses, the micro mini skirts, the cleavage-enhancing bikinis and the long tresses of dyed hair.
- Lots of temples and their incense smells queer.
- There are restaurants serving snake. Snake butchers carry out the slaughtering for curious tourists at the entrances. Slice the median section, take out the gall bladder and put it on a delicate plate to serve customers in the restaurant. Squeeze out the blood and dip it into a small glass teacup, already filled with some greenish nonsense. Revolting.
- They have nice and juicy cherry tomatoes.
- National Palace Museum is ranked fourth in the world behind London’s, Lourve and America’s. Great for history enthusiasts. I think I’m aspiring to be a curator and be murdered at the age of 60 plus by a Silas look-alike. Sorry, craziness.

Most of the trip was spent on a double-decked tour bus with a TV and bad speakers. What do you do when the bus goes through winy winding roads? Sleep of course. But the irony is, although the tour guide chides everyone into slumber, he blasts a horrible Taiwanese crap show on TV, with people singing in vibrating and out of tune Hokkien. Very unhealthy for the ear drums and I almost died.

One thing quite comforting was the things that went through my mind while in a tries-really-hard-to-sleep mode. And these nice things only come about in the darkness, so I was constantly pretending to sleep and replaying the things in my head. Umm mm.

I need to adapt to home. Its suddenly weird to be sitting in front of the com in the middle of the afternoon and thinking about tomorrow’s exam, how Ms Heng looked in her wedding dress (sexy, according to a few) and her husband (….), after a week of literally cross-countrying.

Embroided pouches and ivory carvings,
Jw

2004-11-26T23:36:00.000-08:00

I guess its always best to listen to you. Let the breeze take your hair and remain calm and peaceful within. Loosen every single strand of tensed muscle and banish paranoria to the deepest levels below the ground. To never disturb the rhythms and allow it to beat at its most comfortable rate would certainly help. At least we are certain that nothing would backfire and there wouldn't be any withdrawal symptoms that threaten to cause adverse effect. Lala, you're one smart and sane kid, brainy enough to learn from previous encounters. Ooooh.

Its interesting to explore attitudes and characters of people. Today, I was stuck at Macs, engrossed in some semi-serious, semi-CO related conversation. Time just flew like Superman and i realised that i was late when aunty called and asked anxiously, 'Where are you? 11.30 already!'. Ooops. Sorry aunty, and thanks for coming all the way out to meet me at the station to pass me some miserable foolscap pad with all my tuition neccesities inside. Textbook photocopies, late homework, unmarked homework, new homework, siow scrbblings, you name it. How forgetful of me to leave it on a random step of the staircase, of all places.

Tomorrow, its off to the home of Jay Chou and what-have-yous, and i haven't even started packing yet. Good gracious, we're out of the house at 8am in the morning. Mum's probably already filling the tip of the luggage now with what-if-we-need-this-if-something-crops-up stuff. Mums are mums. We can rely on them like a divan sofa. Guaranteed no spring or upholstery defaults.

Great, i'll come back here in about a week's time. Till then, enjoy yourselves folks.

2packs of Lays chips and 1 funsize pack for first prize,
Jw.

Apologies, what a screw up.

2004-11-25T09:40:00.000-08:00

Hey readers,

My now-dysfunctional blog, chix-mumba.blogspot.com, has proved unworthy of my golden posts. So from now on, please come here for more updates on me. =p Sorry for the lag though, i know some ppl have been bugging me to update. Btw, the previous entry was written last wednesday, 17th, not on the 24th.

love, Jw.

Rough Terrain

2004-11-17T17:34:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I had written an entry on something close to my heart. Too bad I lost it while having problems publishing it. And I was horribly soured for the whole night. It didn’t help since Explosion this time I was about twice the previous magnitude and Mom was hesitating about Day de Grande. Luckily, there was a particular type of hydroxide still available at that untimely hour to neutralise the churning rambles within.

Today, I had fun. Although we were without a movie (cos I’m shamefully on a money-saving scheme), we still had Delifrance, HMV and the new Tangs. The glazed fruit tart was especially yummy when accompanied with sipfuls of hot chocolate from your tall mug. And congratulations, for your newly acquired collection of JS’s lovely productions. I guess we do the silliest things and make the craziest comments. Today, we attempted to count the number of people in black and jeans. I gave up cos there were just too many and these people are in a category that should be given an uncountable noun. There were also flamboyant purses and evening accessories in the colour of a gaudy gold on display. Who are they catered for, you may ask, tasteless tai tais lah!

Upcoming, a crazy story. Enjoy.

There was once this girl who lived near a park. She was a regular there. Every evening, she would visit that place and feast her eyes on the neat stone paths, the stout wooden benches along the walking trail, the trimmed bushes that never failed to bloom pretty bunches of flowers, the evergreen trees. In this scene of man-made beauty, she had this particular spot in the vast park that she liked best. It was a tiny, insignificant stone stool. Grey and mossy, forgotten and away from sweeping eyes. Beside it was a tree, which coincidentally shared the same height as her. She couldn’t figure out its name so she named it Yanks. Main character here happens to be only 10 years of age when she came into contact with Yanks. Although little girl did not really notice Yanks in the earlier stages, she gradually felt its presence whenever she sat on the stone stool. She greeted Yanks everyday and would share her vibrant school life and everyday happenings with it. Yanks always kept quiet. It was ever patient and would never utter a word as it accepted her endless chatter and rattle. Occasionally, a breeze would come and Yanks would sway its branches in approval or shake its leaves in discontent. Nevertheless, its patience was never exhausted and they enjoyed each other’s company.
This simple daily affair went on, without fail, whether rain or shine. She would trod to the park with her pink and lacy umbrella and stand beside the tree while the force of nature carry on with its attack. Time came and went, like aimless pedestrians walking and sauntering. The girl grew up into a controversial teen, full of emotions and puffing up on individualistic ideologies. This is five years later since our introduction of Yanks and the little girl. Our beloved Yanks is now many times as tall as her, at a staggering height of about 4 metres. Still, the relationship between the two living creatures remained transparent and innocent.
Soon enough, as Yanks may have expected if it was a feeling human, our main character fell in love for the very first time. At first, it was just gushing and blushing sessions. But she just went deeper and more intense each time. It was her first and true love and she just couldn’t help it. Yanks missed her varied conversations in the past though, but it was more than fine with her talk about The-One.
One bright day, like any other day, she came on her visit. She sat down on the stone stool but this time, she did not greet Yanks. Instead, she took out a pen knife from her side pocket of her shorts and rested her lower palm on Yanks’ trunk. With much force, (as Yanks could see her hand veins pooping out in a ghastly shade of purple green), she carefully carved out a shapely heart. In it, she also carved her name and her lover’s name. The whole process, she was relishing every moment of it, but Yanks was in excruciating pain. Shreds of bark came falling to the ground. It winced as she left her mark on it, oblivious to its suffering. Yanks hated the agony that came with it but it never bore a grudge against her. The tree remained loyal.

Under the setting sun, Yanks closes its stomata at the final attempts of photosynthesizing. Its broad waxy leaves glimmered in the orange hue that the fireball radiated. Purple and pink clouds overhead, the girl hugged the tree.

I finally know, Jw.

Hey, my tag board is finally up. At the bottom of the page that is. Please leave your mark there! =))