Oh gods, I'm starting to start relief teaching tomorrow! I just got the syllabus today...the head of department kept telling me that teaching would start on the 17th so I thought I would have the weekend to prepare. The three teachers for F & N all assured me that most classes were ok, although the normal technical class could be "a little problematic". And guess what? As Murphy Law dictates, the first class I'm taking would be a NT class, for TWO hours. Because I don't know how to teach the basics of a balanced diet for two whole hours, I'll be starting cooking immediately. Not to mention, I don't know the kitchen so I'll probably spend half the time hunting for cooking implements. Plus the fact that I haven't cooked shepherd's pie for a long time.

Sheesh, at least the NIE teachers get training! Now I'm thrown into this and I'm supposed to replace a teacher completely for the next four months. I should get more pay man, whatever the teacher is supposed to be earning. Oh crap, I'm starting to get this slight lost feeling of being in deep water and not quite knowing how deep the water is. Or whatever organisms there are swimming around me. Never mind, that's a bad analogy. There's a NIE trainee teacher coming in Febuary that may share my table. Imagine if she watches my class, hahaha. Exactly what do people do in NIE training anyway? They should just throw students in and let them die! Buahahahahaha.

I should have tried to get a better babysitting job. I'll play hangman with the class and let them ask stupid questions. Even teach if necessary. At least I won't burn down anything doing that.

Now I have one more thing to worry about, to add to my growing list: how to plan the lesson. Sigh. In any case, I think I'm fated to get this job, if you believe in all that. Not only was it delivered to my door, the teacher is coming back on 14th May! Which is just before I'm going to go to China, around mid May. I must look on the bright side. At least I'll get to eat the shepherd's pie I made.

I have henceforth resolved to go on a diet. The last straw came when my father said I was fat. That was after my sister said I gained weight, which was after Judith too said I was fat. My sister's later reassurances (don't worry, you didn't gain a lot of weight, just in the wrong places) wasn't reassuring in the least. It also did not help that I went out with Hannah and Grace yesterday, leaving me feeling rather short and inferior.

The worst thing is, when I mention that I want to go on diet to others, the answer I generally get is "ok", instead of nice comforting remarks like "what for?". I mean, I always say what people want to hear when they are fishing for compliments. Common practice and all that. So I suppose the fact that people just agree with me constitutes a Sign.

ARGH. I'm becoming a fusspot! This is terrible. I now find myself worrying about every single little detail about what I'm going to do for coaching, for cooking, for china trip, even for my social life. It's a side effect of too much planning. Because I am an extreme workaholic I discover that from next monday I will be working fourteen hour days from monday to saturday, some nights at times because of competition. So if I don't plan everything in advance, everything will clash, and I suppose that has spilled over. It has uncovered hidden depths to my fussiness. If I'm not careful I'll look 30 by the time I'm going to China. Fortunately I am still getting enough sleep, but unfortunately that will stop when my relief teaching starts.

Anyway, Grace found a job! Her great persistence in finding a food-related job has paid off and now she will find out how to make muffins in Grand Hyatt.

It has been four consecutive days since I have seen an ant in the kitchen. It appears that my efforts have paid off. I am never more sadistic when I am around ants and cockroaches. After I decided that I couldn't stand them any more, I bought ant poison and scattered them around the kitchen and the living room. In order that they will not be able to resist it, I also specially prepared a bowl of sugar solution which I carefully dripped on the poison. As for the cockroaches, I shoved some poison under the cupboard where they resided, so that they would be faced with it every day until they succumb to temptation.

When I saw some dying ants later I felt a twinge of guilt, but I suppose not a very big twinge.

For some reason, my wrists have been aching lately when I type for an extended period of time. Hence I have been subtly hinting to Hannah to buy me a Happy House keypad cushion. It goes something like this: Oi! Buy me a Happy House keypad cushion!

I hope she really will despite the lack of reason to, or I shall have to hint subtly again at someone else.

My parrot fish are either fighting or making out. They have been touching their mouths to each other in a very violent manner. I thought fishes don't kiss but they don't seem to be fighting. I have prescribed genders to each of the fish. The red one is decidedly male, because it is more passionate (in the kissing) and swims around doing nothing (in the fish equivalent of reading newspaper) while the pale one goes around arranging stones for home improvement. Needless to say, the pale fish is female.

After a grand total of about four days I have discarded my accounts book, which I decided was simply not my style. Financial planning can only go so far. It's bad enough worrying about money without worrying about daily expenses too. I will ease my conscience by worrying about money in monthly amounts.

It was yiling's birthday yesterday! I was half an hour in wishing her, because well, I didn't remember until then. I better keep better track.

My sister came home last night! We chatted till 2 a.m. this morning and I completely missed the alarm to wake me up for Judith's flight. So I didn't get to see her off. ARgh. I feel terrible. Plus I have a stupid bear sitting at home and lots of postcards. ARgh.

Anyway, my sister really is an anchor. I've been feeling rather listless and depressed lately but now I have my whole grand plan out for university. Yeah man. I feel full of life once again! I will have a career without scholarship. Lalala.

I was cooking dinner for my family today. When I was pouring the chicken from the pot onto the plate, a drumstick slid dramtically off to hit the floor. As I transferred the vegetables from the sieve to the pot, some of it scattered around the pot to be burned to a crisp by the gas fire. The eggs stuck solidly to the bottom of the pan because the non-stick pan suddenly stopped being non-stick.

At this rate, I'm going to be the most amusing home econs teacher ever.

I was reading back on the archives and I realised that I was so much funnier when I was moody and in school. It gives inspiration, somehow.

Anyway, since everyone seems to be saying it, Happy New YEar! And happy birthday to my sister. I made a startling realisation today: my spine is perfectly straight but because my shoulders are rounded, I look like I have a natural stoop. How sad.

I wish I could say I spent my new year making resolutions and preparing for a fresh start, but being the anal person I am, I was calculating my expenses. Money seems to be revolving around my head these days, for some reason.

My sister was complaining for so long that it was the warmest winter in Japan in 20 years and she wouldn't get to see snow this year. Two days ago, she got her wish, only unfortunately it caused the cancellation of her bus to Tokyo and resulted in her having to spend a hundred plus more dollars. Talk about Murphy's law.

I got a job!

It's relief teaching--I didn't mean to do it originally but it came to my doorstep on a silver platter. I got a call last week from Yuhua secondary and the HOD on the phone said carefully: erm, you wrote that you were interested in relief teaching and in doing math or science right?
Me: yes
HOD: erm, would you be capable of teaching home economics?
Me: i did food and nutrition in sec four
The guy sounded like he had hit jackpot. He went: OH! Good, good! I shall reserve the place for you.
Me: For what period?
HOD: As long as you like! You indicated you are free till May yes? Till June too, if possible!
Me: (Rather bewildered that I got a job just like that) Do I have to apply online?
HOD: No, just come down and do it!

Anyway, I went down on the 27th but there were a hell lot of problems with the MOE server, but I got it, anyway. Starting in Mid Jan. I shall face the perpetual fear of
having my creation crumble in front of the students. The best thing about this is, it's within walking distance from my house (although I have to walk 50 min, and lunch is kind of provided (I get to cook it myself). School also apparently ends at 1.20, so I can go coach Vj in the afternoon.


Basically, Yay! Yuhua better not play me out, though, because I got four more calls. (For some reason, the schools around my area seem to be short of teachers) But none of them are so convenient, I should think.

Went to pulau ubin on Tues and WEd. It was rather sad. AFter days and days of clear weather, the clouds consolidated on Monday night to provide near continuous rain for the on day and one night we were on the island. Well, as Judith said, at least it was representative of all the times she was there. I did have some fun; we got to cycle in the rain and climb some hill to see the quarry. Unfortunately I couldn't sleep at night because of water soaking up my jeans.

My goodness, time flies, it's been some time since I've updated.

Yesterday my sister and I were discussing sibling relationships and a number of childhood incidents we had. For the festive season, I shall make a list here:

My sister once drew stars with a crayon all over the walls of the flat and the rough surface under the chairs because she wanted to practice. The moral of this is, when you have a child, always provide him/her with paper.

I cut the hair of my sister's barbie doll once because I was wondering if it would grow back. The resulting fight between my sister and I broke the barbie doll head, which flew us both into a panic at the thought of facing my mother's wrath. With great sisterly cooperation, we carefully balanced the head of the doll on the neck and relegated it to the back of the cupboard, which was discovered a month later by my mum. Thankfully, she thought she accidentally broke it while clearing the cupboard.

I used to practice writing with my left hand because my mother told me that the left brain controlled the right hand; the right brain controlled the left hand, and I concluded that I would be smarter if I was ambidextrous.

I realised that sisterly quarrels are almost always about washing the dishes. In one memorable incident, I threw the cloth which I was wiping the table with towards the dishwashing area where my sister was, so that I did not have to make the six metre trip there. It sailed in an arc through the air and landed unerringly in the dustbin, causing it to topple into the sink and spilling its contents. I spent the next twenty minutes laughing and clearing up.

My sister and I were fighting in the room (with fists and all) when my mum knocked on the door and asked us what the sounds were. Because nothing is to be more feared than her fearsome nagging, we were the very picture of suspicious sisterly love.

This is a recent incident: I was going to my cousin's house for an overnight stay three days ago. Because her hands were full of my chemistry stuff which I lent to her, I was holding her little bag and the umbrella to shield us from the rain. Somewhere near the bus stop we spotted 66 and started running. The bus driver waited, I got on, the bus doors closed and the bus started moving; and by that time I was too embarrased to tell the driver to stop cos my cousin was still down there. I tried to call her for her to take the next bus, only to realise that her handphone and wallet were still with me. I think a lot of people thought me mad, because I was laughing all the way as I got off two stops later, crossed the road and took the bus back.

Sometimes I feel like I may be giving up a little too much when I decided to coach VJ.

Hell, first question: what part time jobs end at around one in the afternoon?
Maybe a job in a clinic. Trouble is, the pay is pathetic, because it doesn't need an O/A level cert. And the point is, will I even find a clinic job in the first place.

I got St Anthony's. But that's not ENOUGH. It was lower than I expected, and lower still if that means I can't take a regular job with it (not that I could, with VJ). 500 per month sucks. And it's probably more committment than I can afford.

Who says i don't care about money? I'm a materialistic person. I care a lot about money. I'm spending disgusting amounts for applications, and I want to learn driving. I want to go CHina in May; I've wanted that since secondary school. And I promised myself that end of As is the start of the time I should pay my own way, but hell. It's not happening. I wanted to learn Malay too, but I guess my budget definitely doesn't accomdate that now.

I'm not a naturally altruistic person. Oh, I may find it fulfilling, etc, etc, (I do think so), but money is still more important. Being fulfilled comes second in my agenda to being able to pay my own way, and saving up my own nest egg for university.

(Sorry Felda. I know I really shouldn't complain.)

But Damn it! I so wanted to stop depending on my parents. Take a study loan and supplement it.

Shit. I'll feel bad if I back out. I should give back, really, and many seniors did do so out of pure and noble intentions. I gained a lot, in any case. But the money problems loom larger over my head day by day.

Why is self-sufficiency so hard? It should be easy at my age. FUCK.

I got my first two pairs of dangling earrings today! One pink and one blue, both from my cousin, plus this rather...irregular bracelet. The earrings were lovely. Actually, I wanted to try them on, but Woon Teng's infection rather put me off. Exactly how long are we supposed to wait after the piercing, before taking out the studs?

I have confirmed the source of the cockroaches. My grandmother was trying to find her stuff this morning, and the dislodging of several bags under her bed disrupted the overall habitat there, causing a few cockroaches to run to my parents' room. Naturally, they were promptly poisoned by insecticide. My father threatened to set a fire to the stuff under the bed, but I suspect that he would never do it, not because the fire may spread and result in unnwarranted damage, but because WHERE WOULD THE COCKROACHES GO TO IF THEIR HOME IS BURNED UP?

The thought of the community down there sends shivers down my spine.

I've been so tired out lately that I just haven't had the energy to update. It's ironical how post exams seem even more stressful than during the exam period. BAh.

Now I have to settle university applications stuff and go out and blah blah blah. Oh crap.

I want to read a good fantasy book, but I need some recommendations. I have virtually finished Tamora Pierce, Mecerdes lackey, David Gemmell (the good books anyway) and even Raymond E feist, which I thought wasn't all that impressive at first. I don't like Terry Goodkind's books, and David Eddings has reached the point of repetition. I've tried the three Piers Anthony books which are good. I read a few books of Babara Hambly and decided she isn't that great an author. Ann MacCafferey is not bad, but has a tendency to repeat.

Well. Now here I am, stuck again.

Before I forget, let me first pay a tribute to this very cool poem I heard a few days ago, created by Justin of 03s62

The Exam Poem

One more week
That is all I need
Oh, Shit

So apt.

Anyway, I spotted a cockroach enroaching into the insect-free confines (well, except for mosquitoes) of my room yesterday night, which galvanised me into Immediate Action. It disappeared under the big pile of stuff under my sister's table, so I had to remove several files, the huge luggage bag containing (?), some stacks of papers and a few mysterious packages to target it properly. Unfortunately my first try didn't work, and it crawled speedily under the new pile that I had just created. But with my great persistence, I killed it in the end.

Ha. I hope this serves as a Warning to all other cockroaches. Perhaps in their next annual gathering from wherever they came from (I strongly suspect under the bed in my grandmother's room, which contains a number of things that we haven't dared to touch for fear of incurring her wrath and a lot of mould), they'll talk about finding new territory and expanding their horizons, then cower back and say, "hey, but you know so-and-so? He went off to explore and he Never Came Back."

RIght.

Haha, I think I really am crappy. But I simply cannot abide cockroaches. And ants, unlike Judith who shares her home with a large garden community of them. WEll, a few individual ants are ok, but I destroy any nest on sight (In my house, anyway). I remember once when our room was in a huge mess with both my sister and I refusing to pack, but we cleared out the entire room when we suspected a new ant nest inside. After discovering it behind the air-con cable, we placed ant poison near it, the kind that prevents queen ants from laying eggs, patiently waited for the ants to take some to their nest for half a day before swamping it with insecticide and water. The reasoning behind this is even if the queen ant somehow manages to escape, it won't be able to lay any more eggs and start a NEW NEST.

I saw a man with the largest ass I've ever seen in the MRT today. Worse still, his huge pair of black pants were pulled up high all the way on his waist, which only enhanced the size of his posterior. Due to the amount of shirt he had to tuck in, I could observe the many undulating layers of cloth covering the huge expanse of flesh. To top it all off, he was wearing an ill-fitting starched white shirt, which made him look rather like an overweight waiter with a fatter older brother who used to be in the same occupation. It occured to me later that had our genders been reversed, I would have been the very picture of teenage lust, because I was staring at his buttocks with a stupid grin on my face.

All right, I shall stop.

But just as a final word, this is the exact thing any self respecting guy should never wear.

Econs was god-awful terrible. I sneakily hope that many other people found it bad as well, so that I would at least stand a chance. Well, even if they screwed up they wouldn't screw up as badly as I did. I find myself praying that I would get at least four marks for my last one page essay, which is, I admit, a pathetic mark to pray for. And that my first essay was really as excellent as I thought it was. Sigh. I find it incredible that I wrote both my personal best and worst economics essay I ever have in my life in the very last paper of this nature I would ever take. What a time for dramatics. Unfortunately, my middle essay was not mediocore but somewhat (significantly) below average, because even in my brain-sieved (a new term I have invented, because I felt like my brain had been passed through a sieve after my first essay) state I could tell I was completely rambling by the second part.

These days I have realised a sudden urgency to claim back all my debts and rebalance my accounts, because of the large unbalance created by my rebonding and my cousin's birthday present. My brain has been churning out figures like this:

1) Rebonding: - $221 (which my mother has already repeatedly assured me that I overpaid for, and I keep telling her that she could nag all she wanted if she just paid half of it).
2) Cousin's birthday present plus earrings for myself: - $101
3) Father's and sister's birthdays, which are nearing: - $ ???
4) Currently in possession, planning to save: + $100
5) Liquid spending income available for the month (underestimate): + $ 22
6) Felda owes me: (+) $ 55
7) Kathryn owes me: (+) $ 90, for tuition
8) Lin Zi owes me: MY BIRTHDAY PRESENT
Overall balance of accounts: - $ 77 - $ ??? + BIRTHDAY PRESENT FROM LIN ZI (with the assumption that I can collect back my debts and Lin Zi would eventually, after the A levels and after inspiration has struck her, get me a birthday present, because I've just reminded her and laid on the guilt that she still owes me one. Hahaha.)

There. I tried to tell my mother that I had financial planning despite my stupid impulsive decision to rebond my hair in an expensive salon, but she wouldn't believe me. And that sometimes teenagers do make impulsive decisions and still stubbornly don't believe they were stupid, however much nagging they recieve (oh, cos apparently rebonding goes for less than a hundred in neighbourhood salons and I should have done a survey first despite the fact that I hadn't been intending to do it in the first place. Blah blah.).

But overall, I'm still in debt to myself. In the true Singaporean way, I will assure myself that this DEFICIT will be covered by past budget SURPLUSES, but also in the true Singaporean way, I'm rather unhappy about having a deficit in the first place.

I had a major quarrel with my father yesterday, which ended with him slamming the door to his room in a huff, me crying in front of the computer while chatting with my sis and us carefully not talking to each other today. It's been coming for some time, I guess. Not that I'm sorry for it. Because he's not talking to me he's not grumping at me either. I feel rather liberated, actually.

I'm sick of his lack of conviction. It's bad enough that he never believes me to be as good as my friends because my standard is just my standard. Smart means smart, dumb means dumb, yeah, my quality is just there. Just because he doesn't see me studying doesn't mean that I don't, and the fact that my lifestyle habits are different from his doesn't mean that they're wrong. There's nothing more adding to your stress level than having a family member that will say "I told you so" if you score badly. I've been hearing his complaints for the last few weeks when he thinks I'm sleeping in my room and I'm fucking sick of it. I'm lazy and stupid, not deaf.

Worse, he thinks I'm wrong and I think he's wrong. Well, yeah, I probably shouldn't have said some things I did yesterday but he started it. I tried to shut up at the beginning because I didn't want to lose my temper, but he's rather like my grandma--keeps harping until he gets a reaction, which was me losing my temper. Ha, yes, I have a temper. I bloody inherited it from him.

And my mum probably thinks I'm deluded from stress and has nagged at my sister who is no doubt one of the reasons for my distraction. Can't she understand that if she likes chatting to my sis I would too? But it's ok, I had a long talk with my sis this morning and it buoyed my mood considerably. At least when two of us were at home the nagging was split evenly. Now it's just me. I feel stifled and lonely; it doesn't help that the As has guaranteed a lack of companionship.

Crap crap crap. Lucky it's math tomorrow or I'll be feeling terribly stressed.

News for yesterday: I REBONDED MY HAIR.
News for today: I PIERCED MY EARS.

Amazingly enough, I accomplished both without any intention of doing so. After fighting a losing battle with tangles, I decided that I am just not suited for long hair and yesterday was the day where I would finally do something about it. So I walked into the salon some time after math, fully intending to convert back to my secondary school hairstyle.

And I told the hairdresser: cut short. He asked: how short. I said: something like yours, slope cut.

He took a double take and stared at me with a totally appalled expression on his face, like I had violated some sacred rule of hairdressers: hair of My Length should not be reduced to That all at one shot. Very distressed, he reminded me of the long tedious journey from short hair to long hair--the mushrooming in between, the heat, the etc etc etc. SInce my experience of this was particularly agonising, I wavered.

But I decided, must stand firm. So I told him that it was getting impossible to manage. Rebonding would make my hair limp blah blah, and I simply do not have the time for it. The hairdresser then assured me that he would have two people working on my hair simultaneously to cut the time short, and all could be settled before the closing time.

What could I do in the face of such enthusiasm? I made one of my rare impulsive decisions (and had no time to rethink because the chemicals were produced with unbelievable speed). The whole process was quite amusing, really--I was very interested in all the chemical processes (Ms Tan in sec school: they destroy the hydrogen bonds in your hair...) but wisely decided not to ask. The hairdresser keep muttering over my hair; he didn't quite say that it was very thick and very tangled (for those who don't know, rebonding involves this ironing process) but repeatedly assured me that I had "a lot" of hair and that my hair quality was "very rare".

In the end it still took three hours, even with two hairdressers, because my hair was (surprisingly) resistant to chemical attack, and took a lot of time to iron out. Now I'm a total convert man. I hope it lasts. I don't particularly care if it looks better or worse. It's a certain thrill to be able to comb right to the ends of my hair and not wake up with hair all over the pillow because they strangled each other to death in my sleep. I must admit I'm quite relieved not to cut it too--I need to soften my image. I already have a domineering and bossy chracter; sHort hair would complete the image of a dragon lady. A girl has to consider her future prospects. BWahahahahaha.

I shall talk about my ear piercing now. I went to a jewellry shop to buy my cousin's birthday present today, and I was short of nine dollars to reach a hundred, after which I would get a membership that gives me twenty percent discount on all future purchases. The salesgirl was trying to convince me to get a pair of earrings, then took one look at my ears and exclaimed loudly: YOU HAVEN'T PIERCED YOUR EARS? (Fingering my ears somewhat protectively) I said: er, no. BUT YOU'RE EIGHTEEN! THen I was told that it was very fast, I could just do it there, free if I bought a pair of earrings (which would conveniently mark up the price to a hundred).

It went downhill from there. So, after years of not bowing to peer pressure, I succumbed to the relentless persuasion of a very charming and very persistent salesgirl. It really didn't help that she was such a friendly soul, in an unagressive way. I was utterly convinced that she had my best interests at heart.

Some people have optimistically described ear piercing to be like "getting an ant bite". After firsthand experience today, I can only conclude that it must have been a really huge ant. It feels like really what it was: having two holes bored into your flesh.

I had this amazingly vivid dream last night. In the dream, I woke up to a brightening sky and discovered that it was already seven plus in the morning. My mother didn't wake me up because she misunderstood me when I said that my exam was at eight--she thought I meant I was going to leave at eight. I even remember wearing my uniform and telling myself not to panic because there was still time, and was hailing a cab when I woke up (again) to the dark, at four in the morning, feeling slightly disorientated. I didn't get to sleep again, unfortunately.

I recall that in secondary school (for some reason it didn't persist in JC) I used to have very detailed dreams about getting up, wearing my uniform (down to every small action like buttoning up), going to toilet etc etc, only to wake up and discover, to my disappointment, that I had to do it all over again. This is what extreme tiredness and examination stress does to you.

I realise that I feel quite chunky next to extremely skinny and fragile looking people like Yiling, or small people like Amanda. SOmehow my voice seems louder than usual, and my every action amplified by the sheer presence of another dimunitive individual. I don't feel fat, just...big.

Oh well. Anyway, it's not like it matters much, since I'm naturally obtuse by nature.

After watching a documentary on Parkinson's and Alzhiemer's disease, it occurred to me that my greatest fear lies in losing my mind. The people who live on and make the best of their lives truly have courage.

Today has truly been an unlucky day.

First of all, I woke up with my left eye almost completely swollen shut. I had to lie on my bed for more than an hour dripping eyedrops before I could see with it without tearing too much. Of all the days to get conjuctivitis, it had to be the day of chemistry practical.

So with one leaking eye, I got out of the house and proceeded on the way to school. Halfway to the MRT station, it started drizzling on me.

When I reached it, I missed a train despite running to catch it, because of some bulky people who were rather slow in reacting when I said "excuse me".

Not to mention, chem prac was a disaster because I got hopelesslessly confused for the titration.

After that, I went to have dinner with Hannah, which improved my mood marginally. Unfortunately, on getting home, I discovered that I'm allergic to something I ate because I'm itching all over now.

Fuck fuck fuck.

My mother said she was contemplating giving away our parrot fish to my uncle so that she could replace it with discus fish or something. Discus! What a dumb name. And my uncle! The reason for passing on the fish to him, she said, was because his own fish were dying. And I said: precisely! How can we give him our fish to die. And you know what? I think his fishes are dying from STARVATION. And probably boredom. He has no respect for the intelligence of parrot fish.

Anyway, I told her that if she gave it away, I would go to my uncle's house and steal it back.

A rather small but amusing incident occurred today. When I got off an MRT, on the way home, I saw a flyer distributor somewhere down my path. Being the only person walking in his direction, both of us carefully did not look at each other, until I was within arms' length of him, where he stuck out a flyer and I, well, took it.

After reading several romance novels in one of my stranger moods, I have decided that nudity is overrated. Clothes hide all the flab that exist in the wrong places (for girls), (or for guys) fat that's supposed to be muscle. Those perfect breasts, well-defined chests with hard angular planes simply do not exist. Or perhaps more accurately, they form a minor enough proportion such that romance novels are written about them. This brings to light that Imagination is frequently better than the Real Thing. Not that i have any experience in the matter, but I suspect that in our world, most couples spend less time looking at each other and get down straight to, er, business.

In a nice long conversation with Lin Zi yesterday, we happily recapped some of the more ludicrous examples of romantic fantasy. One particular case that stuck in our memory was a fanfic detailing how, in a dark and stormy night, person A saw a blurred figure flashing by in the distance, who conveniently turned just before he disappeared so that his amethyst eyes could be observed. Under the conditions described, we all have to admit that those eyes must have been glowing as described by the author.

This brings me to my next point: it appears that attraction has surprisingly little to do with looks. After years of ridiculing my friends' choices, I mentally compiled a (dismally short) list of all the guys that I found marginally attractive in my short years, and come to the reluctant conclusion that my taste sucks too. Other than certain character traits or facial features that distinguish them (in my eyes) from the normal crowd, most of them are really amazingly ugly.

To the everlasting disgust of my conscious mind, I also identified a pattern among them--tall, skinny with relatively square shaped jaws. For some reason, the well-built, handsome variety merely inspires general appreciation equivalent to the experience of discovering a nice item in the shop window. This has led to the conclusion that there's really no accounting for hormones.

And (horrors and horrors), after all that criticism, I actually found the novels rather sweet.

I am forced to admit that pack-rat tendencies run in the family. With my mother, this is especially so with regard to food, though I think my grandmother possibly surpasses her.

After rummaging in the fridge for a while (because I was hungry), I found one-quarter of a mooncake carefully stored away, which I discovered to have a layer of crust over its paste. This is presumably due to the more wintry conditions in the refrigerator, which slowly dries non-living things after a prolonged period of time. Having the same instincts to conserve food, I ate it.

Next was the discovery of half a turnip, leftover from a turnip dish cooked about one month ago. Before yesterday, it had several uncut companions sprouting in a corner of our kitchen.

My grandmother inquired over the nian2 gao1 (you know, the sticky brown cake that's supposed to symbolise prosperity and suchlike) that my mother threw away yesterday as well. We all complimented her on her memory, because it had been there since Chinese New Year.

There is also a little bag of sauce that was provided a few days ago, when my parents bought chicken rice. I have established a pattern to this. Usually, out of a desire not to waste food, my family will carefull keep such leftovers in the fridge, where it will reside for a few days until it becomes undeniably rotten. Then we will throw it away with a clear heart and an unburdened soul.

The house floor has been polished, and the furniture shifted back. Today I accidentally pushed back the chair after finishing my dinner, and this resulted in me and both my parents poring over the floor, gazing mournfully at a new scratch. I have thus far sworn to carefully slide off my chair in future.

So this leads to a discussion of a solution. My mother, as usual, suggested that we put a carpet under the dining room. This is certainly not a new preventive measure, since after the floor was polished, she went out to buy several carpets to prevent scratches. So now there's a carpet under the chair in my room, under the chair at the computer table, and a new one in my parents' room. I believe the ideal solution to this is to carpet the whole house, so that on occasion, we can lift it up to stare at the shiny polished marble, and feel a great sense of satisfaction that we have a nice floor now.

Today was a terribly unproductive day. I was supposed to go to school early for the second post mortem of our econs s essays. After carefully reminding myself to bring my Nitrogen Compounds notes (to check with my friend) and handphone before going out, I promptly forgot both on leaving.

When I arrived at school I sat through 4 hours and fifty minutes of Mr Cook RAMBLING. Rambling transcends simple REPETITION, requiring a certain long-windedness and lack of organisation. This must be one of the few lessons where I keep feeling a continuous urge to go to the toilet, and I did go for quite a number of times. Not that it made any difference, because when I came back he would still be talking about the same things.

Since relatively exciting events are taking place in my otherwise dull life, I have decided it is time to update.

First and foremost, is the farewell assembly yesterday morning, which consisted of a powerpoint presentation by Mrs Chan and a rather lame concert which I actually found inordinately funny. Later, we went for a special CT session, which was actually a phototaking session (and in the case of my class, a storytelling session). After some great deliberation, the guys in my class decided to attempt lifting Mr Ng for a picture, despite some rather vehement objections from the latter.

The scene played out something like this:
(Mr Ng, face contorted in a rictus of terror. Many guys lifting him rather precariously from the sides.)

Guys: One, two, three! (Mr Ng is tossed up slightly into the air)

(Strangled shout ensues from Mr Ng)

Guys: One, two, three! (Mr Ng is tossed up slightly into the air)

(Strangled shout ensues from Mr Ng)

Guys: ONE, TWO, THREE! (Mr Ng is tossed up slightly into the air)

Mr Ng: ARgh

I also noticed several new additions to our school compound, the most notable being that of big red banners proclaiming: SingTel welcomes you to VJC! (Leaving us all in no doubt who our biggest sponsor for OpenHouse is). This is certainly a company rich in tradition, because the banner design looked twenty years old.

The second exciting thing happening in my life right now is that my house is having a major upgrade. This is truly an example of something that Started Out Small, but Became very Big.

The seeds of this project were planted in my mother's mind two weeks ago, when she saw two polishers working on the marble of our neighbours' flat. So she invited them over to give a quotation for our floor, and began to Make Plans.

Problem 1: How to shift the furniture out?
Solution: Our sofas are old. Good, teak wood; resources should not be wasted. Conclusion--Why not send it for a polish?
The Thought This Leads to: The display cupboard has VENEER doors and drawers, although the frame is solid teak. Therefore, we should replace the doors and drawers, since we're at it.
The Next Thought: Might as well do the coffee table too. It's in good condition, but it Can Be Improved.

So the contractor which helped to do our in-built cupboards was invited up to see a price. Since he was already in the house, it was Only Convenientthat he takes a look at the kitchen as well.
Overhanging in my mother's mind: The stoves are a little spoiled. How much to replace them?
Then: Come to think of it, the tiles are somewhat loose as well.
On top of it all: The cupboards are creaky.

The Final Conclusion: Major Upgrade

As of yesterday, she was eyeing the toilet, though fortunately no concrete plans have been made in that direction. I've been spending the week looking as inconspicuous as possible while my parents grumble at each other and at me; and I stayed up to three this morning to clear my room so that the polishers could work on it. (I must admit after coming home today that the floor is a lot shinier). Actually, this is a lousy time to be in the house.

I realised when packing the room that the Singaporean Kiasu spirit was ingrained in me. There is a burgeoning stack of written foolscap paper from practice papers in my room, which I hardly look at and don't know what to do with, but I just can't seem to bear throwing it away. I managed to recycle some though, because at least that satisfies the instinct for conservation.

Oh, and miracles of miracles: MY COUSIN CALLED FROM AUSTRALIA. (!!!) WE had a good chat though.

This post is just to prevent my blog from dying, really. I'm feeling quite antisocial lately. Maybe this is due to the realistation that I don't feel like talking about exams, results, or university admissions, which leaves me rather little to talk about, unfortunately.

My mother's plants were eaten by a catepillar today. Well, I did mention there were holes when she first bought the purple periwinkle, and now it's purple periwinkle no more.

My sister flew off today, and quite a number of interesting events occurred en route to the airport and before we sent her off.

First was a strange and totally unexplainable disappearance that I shall simply term as The Mystery of the Missing Tissue Packet. I was sniffing on the way to the taxi, so my mum gave me her tissue packet (ok, it wasn't just a tissue packet, it was a tissue packet in one of those fancy tissue holders that both my mum and I happened to like very much) which I held until I boarded. So it was with us till we boarded. I remember the last time I saw it I was holding it up for my mother, and suddenly it was gone and both of us were wondering what on earth happened to it. We spent about three quarters of the journey searching: first my bag, then her bag, my jacket pockets, my bag again, her bag again, my sister's bag, my father's pockets, the taxi (below the seats, at the sides, under our butts and every cranny we could think of), my bag again, my mother's bag again, the taxi again. And when we got off, we searched the taxi one more time.

AND THERE WAS NO HINT OF A TISSUE PACKET! We were completely mystified by this--finally we concluded that it must have dropped into some deep crevice in the cab that we somehow had not noticed. I'm going to try to find another of those fancy tissue holders later in west mall to replace what we lost, and take this incident to be one of those unexplainable things that happen occasionally in our lives.

After my sister checked in we went to have breakfast in burger king. After queuing up for about twenty minutes we made our orders for three breakfast meals, with two teas and one coffee. The person at the counter asked a few times to confirm our order and we waited very patiently as he slowly (I repeat--slowly) keyed in numerous things into the keypad. Aften waiting for yet another ten minutes we discovered that they had gotten two-thirds of our order wrong (two different meals with two coffees and one tea) and it was the fault of the stupid cashier. Deciding finally not to kick up a fuss, I went back and opened the little paper box, only to find that my bacon--supposed to be nice and succulent in the advertisement was instead a rather reduced brown crisp. Anyway again we did not complain, so my family took turns to polish up the bacon, eating it like potato chips.

So it was time for my sister to enter the departure hall. Due to enhanced security checks only those with passports could walk through the check-in counter, so my the four of us took a long leisurely stroll to one end, where we figured would be open. Unfortunately upon arrival we found that end blocked off as well, and we had to take another long, leisurely stroll back to the opposite end, where we could finally pass. But that was ok, no complaints, because we had to exercise away some of the crispy bacon.

On impulse I bought this lovely interior design magazine (it was more like a soft cover book because it didn't have the customary advertisements) for this rather exorbitant price of $15.90. I discovered that it seems to be a Singaporean custom to have television sets in the living room, for many of the foreign house designs I looked through had only sofas and coffee tables in that area. I also realised that the soap dispensers in Changi Airport are automated--I was looking for something to press when liquid just came out in my hand. Cool, right?

On our way back on the MRT we managed to find seats halfway through our journey, so I promptly fell asleep. Sometime earlier in the distant past I told my mother that I had this automated internal mechanism like most poor students did, that would wake me up at appropiate times in public transport, except when I was very tired. Apparently she didn't believe me and was waiting to see what I would do when we reached the right stop. What happened was that I slept soundly all the way till the lady's voice said "Jurong East Interchange", where I woke up, put on my spectacles and prepared to get off. My mother believed me henceforth.

My mother doesn't understand me!

I have embarked on a jogging routine to keep fit and hopefully prevent myself from become a couch vegetable. So as usual, I went jogging today, and after I came back I attacked the marigold chocolate chip ice-cream that I just bought with my sister, which I did not eat immediately upon return only because it was too melted. (By the way for chocolate chip ice-cream lovers marigold chococolate chip ice-cream sucks. Chips are very hard but very small.) Anyway my mother went into an analysis on the number of calories chocolate chip ice-cream has, and after much repetition concluded that I just ate more calories than I managed to jog away. The logical extension to this is that I would Gain Weight rather than Lose Weight, because a Healthy Exercise Routine must go Hand in Hand with a Healthy Diet.

But she can't seem to see that the whole point of exercising more is to eat more! What incentive would I have to exercise if I have to switch from high-fat yogurt to low-fat or (horrors of horrors) non-fat yogurt, and forgo sweet, sticky stuff like chocolate and ice-cream? Sigh.

My sister's flight was delayed from today to saturday, due to the typhoon in taiwan--fortunately because the news just reported that many people were stuck at the taipei airport today. Due to my sister's last minute nature, this must be one of the rare times so many people are happy about such a delay.

I was going to write something but I forgot what.

I've been corrected by Judith about the Scrambled Eggs song--so I checked my diary and found she's right! How could I? It makes all the difference between pure rhetoric and sheer brilliance. So here it goes:

Scrambled Eggs, Scrambled Eggs, Scrambled Eggs,
Lalalalala!
Scrambled Eggs, Scrambled Eggs, Scrambled Eggs,
Lalalalala!
Scrambled Eggs, Scrambled Eggs, Scrambled Eggs,
Lalalalala!
Scrambled Eggs, Scrambled Eggs, Scrambled Eggs,
Lalalalala!

*repeat ad nauseum*

We're geniuses, aren't we? *beams*

Ghostly Encounters

This is the seventh month, so in keeping with the mood, I shall put up my share of ghostly encounters.

One night I when I entered my room I saw an old woman with a chalk white (really white, my god) face staring at me. Fortunately before I got a heart attack I realised that it was my grandmother, who was trying to use up her talcum powder. (Though what she was doing in my room in the middle of the night she never quite explained)

I think I was in sec 4 then. I was doing my work on the computer in the living room (it's just right next to the door) at eleven plus when I suddenly smelled perfume. After stoically continuing for a few more minutes I decided that I was freaked out so I abandoned the computer and went to sleep. Rather mystified, the next day I went around asking people what franjipani smelled like, because it was supposed to be the favourite flower of ghosts. (Judith I remember you offered to bring me a franjipani scented candle though we both kind of forgot later). Anyway a few weeks later I FOUND THE TRUTH when my mother complained about my father, who, upon waking up to relieve himself, found the toilet to be too smelly for his liking, so conveniently took my mother's expensive bottle of perfume and sprayed it around. After hearing this I concluded two things:

1) The perfume must have been very expensive
2) He must have sprayed a lot

I arrived at this after qualitatively measuring the distance between that toilet and the computer, which were at two different ends of the house.

One night, when I was asleep and my sister was about to, I suddenly sat up ninety degrees and a girlish voice (which she swore was not mine) from the other side of the bed said, "you2 gui3 ah" (there's a ghost). Then I laid back down again. Staring at me, she poked me tentatively but I was asleep, so she told me the next day. I'm quite flattered that I actually had a personal ghostly encounter, though sadly I can't remember a thing.

Another night, I was woken up by my sister who punched me three times and pinched me three times, all while she was sleeping a feet below on the pullout bed. This time I poked her but she was asleep. Because there can't possibly be any reason for her to specifically reach up and attack me in her slumber, she must have been possessed.

(This one is really freaky) My grandmother dreamt once that she was walking with her mother, who disappeared. The next day she recieved a call that her mother died in her sleep. Another time she dreamt that nui2 tou2 ma3 mian4 (you know, the horse-headed and the cow-headed humans that are supposed to take souls away in hell) took her father away, and he too, had died that night. When I was in sec 1 she felt an urge to call my uncle, and got very frantic when she couldn't reach him, ordering assorted relatives to go to his house to check. He was found lying on the floor in his room with high fever and in convulsions. He was brain dead in two days and died that thursday. (I remembered that the day after was good friday).

I hope I haven't inherited any of this from her, because these days I've been having strange dreams. I'm a little worried about Lin Zi, who told me she had serious breathing problems, though it shouldn't be due to three types of cancer. (I called and asked, "how are you?" and almost died when she said "not good"). Anyway she's having a check up on Thursday and I await the results. I hope they can find the cause because they already checked her heart and had an X-ray of her lungs.

GP essay topics today were horribly difficult, though I'm sneakily glad because that means I wouldn't do too badly relative to everyone else. I took a look at the questions and realised that my existing knowledge wasn't going to be of much use (and that would apply to all the other candidate's haha). For someone like me who didn't prepare for GP at all it was actually quite advantageous.

I think LHL broke the record with the 3 hour ++ national day rally yesterday--the people seated there must have been either very thirsty or very urgent by ten plus. After hearing him I've confirmed my opinion that he'll make a good prime minister, but I'm even more convinced that he'll

1) Try to do everything and accomplish many things during his term
2) Age rapidly in his job, and die early after he resigns

After hearing LHL's comparative fluency in Malay and Chinese I really had to give it to GCT, because his speeches sounded like, and probably were solid memorisations of what started out as a foreign language, an ardous task that should never be attempted unless national television and a very large audience is involved.

This has been a truly shitty day.

I can't do the RJ physics paper.

Li Jiawei lost, which was quite heartbreaking if you watched the match.

Against my better instincts, I went to a poetry reading performance by HC, which I thought would take two hours but it started late and took more than three hours. I frankly didn't understand most of the poems and couldn't appreciate a number of jokes that many other people seemed to find funny, but I liked the performance by the string quartet (it was really good) and some of the Singapore-related poems not because I was feeling patriotic, but because they were the only ones I could relate to. There was this perfomance by a comedy band at the end, which reminded me uncannily of a song "scrambled eggs" I invented with Judith. It goes something like this:

Scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs
Scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs
Scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs
*repeat as desired
*tune subject to variation

On the way home as I looked at the time I inexplicably started crying, because the five hours of wasted time suddenly seemed so precious. You have no idea what I felt like I was giving up when I dragged myself to this, just because of five stupid words which probably weighed more heavily on me than it was intended to, "please, it's very important to me." My presence didn't make a fucking difference, not even as company or as a seat filler, so next time please remember character differences and how such a phrase would look like to me. And I'm writing this because I'm in a shitty mood and feel like letting you know because it is your fault so don't take it to heart.

To top it all off I discovered upon reaching home that my sister forgot to switch off the computer, so it had been running for the last few hours.

Bloody hell.

Random Thoughts

I have been eating continuously today. Chips in the morning, and MORE chips in the afternoon. Chocolate, though by my standards I didn't have all that much of it. I also opened a can of salmon spread and had a packet of milo powder, because I felt like something sweet and savoury at the same time.

My sister very kindly offered to cook me corn in the evening, so I told her to microwave it for 7 minutes with a little water for steaming. Due to her natural kiasu tendencies she filled half the big bowl with water and heated it longer than seven minutes, so I got corn soup as well. Unfortunately my mother stole half my corn so I had to cook another one to share with my father.

Let me complain more about my mum. In the middle of my physics practice paper she told me to help her glue this crystal necklace together, because the metal bit dropped out and i was suppposed to have steadier hands. After that she coerced me to glue this elephant, the broken cap of a teapot and another broken cap of this container, her main argument being that "we shouldn't waste superglue". After I finished there was still quite some left so I asked her what to do with it, and her prompt reply--"throw it away, it's only ten cents." So much for conservation.

I think a new batch of mosquitoes just hatched near my house, because we've suddenly been inundated with them. As a result we've been busy lighting mosquito coils all around the place. The good thing about it is, after a while you will get naturally mosquito repelling tendecies as well due to you smelling like a big mosquito coil.

I just realised that the "archives" link in the white box does not quite lead to the archives, probably because I haven't done proper html-ing or whatever. In fact it goes to a blogger "Not Found" page. How? Any comments anyone? Who knows how to do? I think that my blog is quite interesting, so I should archive it.

I had this really weird dream a few nights ago. It started with ordinary life, then somehow I accompanied Lin Zi to the hospital for a check up, where we discovered she had three types of cancer. My brain even came up with charts and realistic looking diagrams which was showed to us then. It was more scary than the typical monster dream (which I had later, as I shall describe) because it was just so ordinary. I shall call her tonight, I think, just to see how she is.

Then I was walking in a school compound in the middle of the night. It was pitch dark and there were dogs, dogs and more dogs all over the place, staring at me and the group of friends I was with as we walked past. I don't really know what the hell we were doing there, actually, since it was so freaky. I made a face at a dog (that was quite unintentional, I think I was trying to stretch my jaw muscles) and suddenly it was coming towards me, this rabid looking, drooling, glowing eyed creature. I was panicking but as it leapt, I suddenly felt calm as I remembered that all my friends were werewolves, so I probably had nothing to fear from dogs. But none of them stepped forward, and I was wondering why and backing away when I suddenly remembered that I too, was a werewolf. Claws came out (not unlike wolverine in X-men) and the dog died a sorry death. My friends were looking at me like I was dumb, after I turned back to them.

Well.

Anyway Yiling coindentally had a weird dream too, about me, Mr. Ng and her swimming through icy seas to a ship, where we climbed onto a deck which transported us to a mushroom field. At least, that's the compressed version.

I think I'm sinking into a bout of depression. Isolating myself at home is insufficient--I'm quite tempted to hide under the blankets all day. Unfortunately that means I wouldn't be able to STUDY, which is ostensibly why I skipped school in the first place. This is really a bad time for this to happen.

My feelings toward my sister's return is oscillating between joy and pure irritation. Things slipped back into easy familiarity in the space of the few minutes (MSN is really not the same) but the nagging thought of so many things to do, my study schedule etc etc etc rather prevents our usual long chats. And she's leaving in ten days too, for another four months. Her choice, her life, her future, and the entire family is involved. Including me, the wimp, who is irritated but proud of her at the same time. Irritating. Self-centred bummer. I'm in a shit mood today. I HATE SCHOOL. I HATE THIS SHITTIFIED SYSTEM.

Everything's getting me down. My parents are ageing. Not that I didn't know that before, but stark reality was presented today when they complained about the words on a book I borrowed on Japan (for my sister's exchange program) being too small and unreadable, and blur. A youthful person like me finds the words normal. And some day I grow old too, and my senses will fade.

The birds have to fly from their nests, but sometimes young birds feel sadder than old birds. But it's inevitiable.

This world sucks. The world around me sucks. I suck. Life sucks.

I went for the econs talk today at Nanyang Polytechnic, which resulted in me getting a lot of unneccessary exercise. I dropped off at Ang Mo Kio (because the street directory showed it to be the nearest MRT station) and walked for fifteen minutes to reach NYP, after asking around for directions. Then I had to circle the perimeter of the compound to find the gate, only to go across it again to get to the auditorium. Later after the event, when I was coming out with Hui Fen, I wondered why everybody was taking the escalator downwards in what seemed like the wrong direction--ONLY TO DISCOVER THAT IT LED TO A NICE, COVERED PATH ALL THE WAY TO YIO CHU KANG MRT STATION. (Gods, to think I was mystified when Hui Fen tried to give me directions over sms--she was probably wondering why I couldn't find the auditorium when it's supposed to be the first thing we see). Can you imagine? I dropped off at the WRONG MRT STATION, got in at the WRONG GATE, and almost went the WRONG WAY to the auditorium. I'm quite impressed with my own stupidity.

In light of this, I have just urged my mother to buy a new street directory.

Anyway, we heard three speakers--the first one was not bad, the second really awful and the third pretty impressive. He was this marketing director or something from SIA, to talk about competition in the airline industry, and it was quite humorous and enlightening. The pride he had for the company really came through; I guess in a way he had a big role in building up SIA.

I am actually quite optimistic about Singapore's future. I started out the opposite--Singapore was too small to make any impact, we could never compete in terms of land, talent pool, market size and resources; and we had already reached a plateau of growth, it seems. As I learned more about other economies and did further research, however, I slowly realised that every country has its own set of problems and limitations; ours, in light, are not as major as made out to be. Nor are they inevitable constants. If you're not convinced by this you should read up--really read up on huge emerging economies like China, and already established ones like Switzerland, instead of just mutely accepting the rosy picture of growth painted for us to worry about. They have their own worries too. In fact, when we come down to a recession, we have much higher chances of lasting it out, because all the contingency planning throughout the years of our growth--substantial reserves, good financial, social and basic infrastructure will give us greater manuveuring room in a crisis, allowing us to develop other sectors if necessary. Many great economies sink and stay there because they don't have this back-up, going into a cycle where they retain sunset industries yet lack the resources to become competitive in sunrise industries. If there's one thing I'm impressed about our government, it's this.

I went out with Judith just now, in my determination not to isolate myself for two and a half months before As (or three and a half till the end of As). Unfortunately my dinner was interrupted unceremoniously by many messages regarding a certain final report (which, by the way, I sacrificed one entire day of studying for, waiting for the email and all) and many phone calls that I had to make. By the way, sister dear, next time can you not send so many sms-es regarding the same thing? I got three just to say that you blogged, and usually in your desire to communicate your urgency to everyone else you send messages by phone too, which can be irritating if you're in front of the computer, checking your sms-es and email and having to pick up ringing phones all at once.

Back to Judith. It's quite ironical that the very friend I found "zi1 ji3" in sec 2 has all along been, and now more so than ever, so different from me. Contrary to what I had believed in earlier, our friendship seems to have been based on these very differences rather than our similarities; and looking back, many of our conversations were so interesting precisely because we disagreed--but we had similar enough interests to disagree in the same topic. Oh yar, I forgot to tell you, Olio Dome has now become "Olio" and "Dome", which I discovered thanks to Yiling, so now the one above Borders is "Olio". Weird.

I was frankly quite surprised today to find my ambitions being called "scary". Well, unusual, yes, but really I've never thought of it quite in this way before. I am past the earlier stages of deliberation--wondering about the meaning of nations among civilisations that rise and fall in this huge tapestry of life; thinking if I deserve to seek such a huge responsibility, based on both ability and moral character (and whether I will do more good than harm); deciding if it is indeed what I seek for in my life path. All that is left now is a crystallised, single minded obsession, driven by a vague vision I had years ago. A vision that contained more emotion than detail, causing me to seek fruitlessly and continuously for an answer; one that caught me more by the strange uplifting of my heart at that blurred image than my comprehension of exactly what it signified. A dream that I have dedicated myself to, but will probably never see come to fruit in my lifetime.

Scary? Come to think of it, perhaps. It frightens me a little, how far I've come due to this dream. For those who see my faults now have never truly known me before and after many of my transitions--all that I have fought for and what I have achieved. Everything that I feel I have done wrong, or could have done better, makes a mark on my mind, cumulating into a kind of conscious regret for what I am now and what I could be. For all that others may think of me, the lack of self-knowledge should not be an issue--big and small faults: something I've said wrongly, an attitude I should have had right from the start but is too late to change now, little nuances of my behaviour that is either offensive or just plain weird to others are clearer to me than to anyone else. I am determined to eliminate each one to the utmost of my ability, even those considered facets of personality that cannot be changed. Every success is a personal victory.

One of the few major breakthroughs, I feel, for me is admitting to myself what I want and my own inadequacies in not achieving it. For almost all my secondary school years I have used a lack of desire as an excuse not to try, or for my own under-performance, when in fact it was a deep set fear of failure. I know that I want good grades, and I haven't achieved them not because they were never that important to me, or because of my commitment to other activities, but due to plain laziness, a lack of will and sometimes pure stupidity (nicely described as a lack of academic inclination). While in the past I found others' efforts to find excuses for me comforting, I now find them patronising, though I know intentions are kind. I find nagging more irritating than ever, because it's going to make scant difference.

I comfort myself with the knowledge that even great leaders were not born perfect, but had to learn to be who they become. I have accepted, though, that there are certain limits to determination, from the constant frustration of seeking something that I just cannot do, do not have. Like words that come to the edge of my mind when I wish to express myself clearly. Most of all, I have learned not to judge others too quickly, because I can see in my mind's eye how people see me.

And by the time I go to sleep, wake up fresh, go for the Econs talk tomorrow, come back and read this entry, I will probably wonder if I was dumb to type all this and how I could have said it better. Just that, like for so many other things, I wouldn't know quite how to change it.

I'm afraid my entries are going to be incredibly dull from now on, because recently I'm having many dull thoughts. Any conversation I have nowadays center around three main topics: studying, further studies (plus grand plans for after As), and PM Goh's handover. I lead a dull life.

I'm happy to say, though, that I seem to have gotten my ball rolling, albeit slowly. It took five days of holiday (with the first three days wasted in unproductive activity) and one day of self-imposed self-study break. Unfortunately it is unlikely that I will catch up with the more consistent workers before prelims, though I hope to do decently well.

I realised that my blog is considerably light-hearted compared to many I have surfed. This is not a reflection of my true nature, because I am actually full of Angst. I just lack the emotive power to and language to type so much about it.

I realise that I can't keep two blogs at the same time. When I'm actively communicating with my sister in my other one I stop updating this.

I watched NDP yesterday with Hannah (actually she was surfing the net in my house) and felt very patriotic. I guess it made up a little for OVERSLEEPING LAST FRIDAY WHEN IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE NATIONAL DAY CELEBRATIONS IN MY SCHOOL. Argh, I'm still angry at myself--I meant to go watch the National Day celebrations and go for Econs S after, but days of sleep deprivation (plus going to Mabel cum Sin Yee's party the night before) had cumulated into a state of general unconsciousness where alarm clocks fail to make any impact, resulting in me waking up at at 12.30 pm. ARGH.

On Saturday, I went for the IE Singapore talk in the morning, then to VJ for the universities exhibition, where I joined Hannah, Grace and someone called Zhi Qiang. We went to West Mall and had sushi because all of us lived in that area. I realise how much I miss having people to go home with, actually, though it's really a minor thing.

After that I went for debate gathering, which was fun. I discovered that Amos is really very gossipy (one more nosey debate guy to join the many nosey debate guys). I suspected it at the start, but I didn't know the exact extent of gossipiness until then.

My sister's coming back this Sunday, 15/8.

I have just condemned myself to the hell of Idiotdom. The economics test I had today convinced me of that. Somehow or other the realisation that my watch was slower than the clock in the LT did not strike me, and I was going to start on the last question when the teacher said, "Pens down." The question: "If you were the trade minister, what do you think the effect of a revaluation of the Yuan on Singapore's economy would be?" Or something like that. ARGH. Of all the economics questions I had to miss in my whole life, it had to be one where I could boost my own ego on, even if the likelihood of it ever coming out in the A levels is small. Triple ARGH. All the time spent on researching on this topic and having no chance to show off! I'm devastated.

Anyway, a little update on what happened to me the last few days:

On Saturday night we sang the birthday song and cut cake, a chocolate cake from BreadTalk. After eating most of it I can conclude with greatest authority that ANGIE'S CHOICE CAKES ARE STILL THE BEST. Too bad the branch at West Mall closed down. For people who haven't already, you must try the yam cream cake and cheesecake.

I stayed up the whole night on Monday (going on to Tuesday) to complete the Glaxosmith essay, due to my inherently last minute nature and slow writing speed. I slept a little on the train and in school, but overall I was amazed at my ability to function throughout the entire day. I even went out with Nick in the after school--kind of a "July birthday people must celebrate together" groupie attitude. SO I treated him in Jack's Place, though we split the bill in Swensons later. I'm quite impressed with the former, really, so I shall promote it. For $6.50 (from 2.30 to 5.30 pm) you can order a students' meal with soup, garlic bread, one glass of coke/sprite, a choice of main course and desert. It also comes with good service, nice ambience and free flow water. I'm swearing off fast food, man.

We chatted on till about eight and exchanged quite a number of ghost stories. After that I went to buy handphone covers for Judith which I spotted at the mini-pasam malam, where I stood for about 25 min trying to describe them to her so she could decide. Talking about ghost stories, let me just write down my little anecdote, in case I forget it a few years later.

SOmetime back last year I was so tired upon reaching home that I just fell into bed with my school blouse still on. I woke up at around 3 pm, feeling filthy, so I decided to get up to bathe and brush my teeth. In order not to wake anyone up, I tried to be as noiseless as possible and refrained from switching on the lights, while I indulged in my usual weird habit of walking around thinking as I brushed my teeth.

It was the cumulation of these many factors that gave my sister the shock of her life when she got up to go to the toilet--after seeing a white clad woman with beraggled long hair, and foaming at the mouth walking towards her.

I think I should submit some of my experiences to reader's digest, but it always seemed so bothersome. I wonder if they still give money for jokes.

Ok, I just discovered how certain people know about my blog, though I realise I'm a little slow in the uptake. It's the first thing that appears on any search engine if you type "Zhang Xuwen". Dammit.

It's my mother's birthday today! I had to go out in the morning in a last minute rush to buy her a present--fortunately I found a shop in west mall that sold branded perfume, though it didn't have samples for everything. After going through tons of bottles, I realised two sad facts:

1) I appear to have an allergy to perfume, despite being female and everything.
2) Some women must like wearing insecticide out, because I can't think of any other commercial reason for some of the scents produced.

The former was discovered when, instead of feeling a heady euphoria and increased confidence that any woman is supposed to, the back of my hand started itching and I started tearing after trying out a few samples. My mother wanted a 'flower scent', but after repeated sniffing at a brand that apparently specialises in flower perfumes I decided that I couldn't recognise any species, be it 'Rose' or "Sunflower'. There were also some rather unique scents like 'Green Tea' and 'Garden', which probably included the pesticide as well.

In the end I narrowed down to two options: Red Door (Elizabeth Arden) and Fifth Avenue (also Elizabeth Arden). I was considering Estee Lauder as well but they didn't have samples for most of them and I wasn't about to risk my money. After further deliberation I finally decided on Fifth Avenue, because it didn't have the characteristic sharp smell (solvent, I think) that most perfumes have. It cost $90 for a 75ml bottle but there was a 20% discount so I paid $72. I'm happy to say, though, that it is indeed true that the more expensive brands are longer lasting, because after several hours and many hand washings the scent is still there.

I also bought a water bottle that my mum mentioned she wanted and paid for everything to be gift-wrapped in nice gold paper (to match the bottle). Overall I spent $78.80. With that in a bag I rushed to IMM to have a celebratory lunch at a nice Chinese restaurant there, which my father paid for, because I'm broke by now. (It's at the top floor, good service, relatively cheap prices, quite worth it; I'm doing promotion here. For six dishes and good service it was only $52.80.) My mum liked the present! Lalala:) I'm glad I took the trouble to have it nicely wrapped because I discovered some time ago that it really does make a difference.

Now I shall go around sniffing at different perfumes even though I don't need to anymore to convince myself that it was a good buy.

Been a little while since I updated, so I shall go day by day.

Monday:
Went out with Judith at night for round two of birthday celebrations. We went to Sakae Sushi, then down to MOS to eat frozen strawberries, where we exchanged what I will term as the NUS Ushering Experience.

After our lunch in cultural centre (we bought it from a Dome branch in there and it took supremely long to come, with all of us wondering whether they had to catch the chicken and pluck it so that Fresh Chicken Sandwich could be created), we went to the backstage, having assumed that we were supposed to go there. Somewhere in there, we encountered an Usher, who told us that we were supposed to go to the second floor of the cultural centre. So we backed out and went into the theatre, and went up to the second floor and stayed there for a while before we started wondering why we were the only team there. So we asked another Usher, who told us that the teams were in the dressing rooms somewhere behind, and the ones on the second floor was for us. To cut a long story short, we went up to the second floor, then back down to the first floor, up to the second floor and back down to the first floor again where the Ushers then abandoned us. Rather fed up, we then went up to the second floor, tried all the dressing room doors till we found an unlocked one and stayed there, until we figured the guest of honor was done and we went backstage.

What happened to HC, as Judith told me later, was that they were told to go to the second floor of the cultural centre, where they ALSO wondered where the other JCs were. An Usher then saw them and said, "Oh no! You're supposed to be backstage!". SO they obediently trooped down backstage where they encountered yet another Usher, who told them to go up again. So they trooped up. This process repeated itself for six times until HC got sick of it too and stayed put at the backstage.

I presume this is how all four JCs eventually ended up at the backstage, with everyone complaining about being led up and down and round and round before they figured they would have to come here eventually. What I find amazing is that NUS had such a studied lack of coordination that it even managed to not let any of the teams meet on our tours of the cultural centre. If any of us were less intelligent, the quiz would probably start late so that one or two of the missing teams could be found.

Anyway, I got a shirt with stuff written over it and a tatty bear from Judith. Wait, I just realised! Judith you didn't give me a card! How can you not give me a card? You must give me a card. (I sense myself repeating here) Having a message written over a shirt doesn't Count. :P

Wednesday:
I went for a debate gathering at night, at Outback in Millenia. The food was pretty horrible, except for the fried mushrooms which were quite novel. I ended up eating Felda's pasta because she lost her appetite for it (first time I saw pasta with so much vegetables), while she mangled the remaining drumstick that I gave to her in exchange.

I thought the most entertaining part of the whole event was listening to Ben describe his wedding plans, which truly reflected a Methodical and Organised mind. I quote, "By November I'll send out my first batch of invitations, and if they don't RSVP me by December I'll just cut them out. After that I'll send out my second batch of invitations..." It sounded very much like university admissions.

What I also found amusing was that although Ben hadn't really thought about minor things like the presentation of the ring, he appears to have planned angbao collection in great detail. Ram (being one of his best men) was told repeatedly that all the angbaos he collected would be passed to him, presumably so that he wouldn't be distracted from collecting some more. Haha. His best men have also been delegated the roles of drinking in his place, protecting him from drunken men, and clearing the crowd in front of him, not unlike the job of the Secret Service under the president.

I've been reduced to checking my email and updating my blog in school because my computer is (hopefully not permanently) sick with (what I hope is) a virus. If it's due to some circuit hotwiring from overuse I really don't know what to do. Thank goodness it happened on Friday, after the ppt was safely uploaded in Munbbill's laptop and the research was pretty much done, or I would have died.

Many exciting things have happened since the last time I blogged. In order of excitement: we got second for NEFMQ! We screwed the quiz horribly and had seven points from AC (who was second), so before they announced the results for fourth place we all had our heads bowed and mumbling, "Not fourth, not fourth" and there was quite a loud sigh of relief when the MC said "Anderson Junior College". Then we all thought we were next and all came out and lined up, so there was really a moment of jubilation when AC turned out third.

What really meant the most to me was that we got best for presentation. It's the first time I've ever gotten best for anything; in debate, SYC presentation, PW and everything else something will crop up or there'll be just the lacking factor for us to get top. In the end it'll be a not bad (like making semis) but just not quite there. Only what my sis told me, "to know how to win all the way you have to first learn how to" made me keep trying and tryin and trying. I feel like what we achieved was for me, very much a personal victory--I really pushed a lot in the beginning, and only in the last three days did everyone in the group really start chipping in equally. For the two weeks plus before that almost none of the meetings had a full house; Munbbill and I were the only constants. I thought about renminbi waking and sleeping and kept trying to figure out structure, rebuttal, etc etc. But later on everybody got the excitement and drove toward the goal, and FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE, the final presentation was what I envisioned it to be. I've done it. And my team did it. For a group that started out without much team dynamics, with most members not very good at econs and with lousy grades that's quite an achievement. It's rather strange though, that although in the end we have a good working relationship and I quite enjoy doing the project together with them I still can't imagine us going out together. I guess that's what colleagues feel like.

I went to Lin Zi's house after and we chatted till eleven plus with both of us not realising the time. Like so many of my other dearest friends, she has no idea what to get me so I shall have to think of something I want. She got me the Star Wars trilogy last year but this year I can't think of any VCD I'm going to have time to watch in the near future. Sigh. Lin Zi won the National Econs Essay writing quiz with her classmate! To think that Judith got second for MAS essay competition with Zhi Peng too. Oh man, I'm surrounded by smart friends. I feel stupid. Very proud of both of them, though.

On Sunday I went out with Yiling, Hui Fen, Hannah, Grace and got treated to ice-cream at Esplanade Haagen Dazs. I had an 'ultimate', a slice of ice-cream cake, a little of Hannah's and Grace's cheesecake (which wasn't that great) and after walking at the riverside we came back again and I had chocolate covered strawberries. I must have eaten about 1 kg of sugar. I also got this around the world travel guide from them, though I would have asked for a China one if I knew they were going to get me that. But I'll travel to other countries too so it might be more useful in the future:), like Yiling said.

Oh, for people who don't know, thanks to Felda, the cat's out of the bag. Due to some misunderstanding she thought they knew from Ram so she pratically announced it to the debate team. But it's ok. Nothing to be embarassed about, though I didn't want it known orignally cos I thought it might be a little awkward for TAT.

I'm going out with Judith later for the second round of birthday celebrations. I wonder if she's gotten my birthday present yet, haha. And my sis will treat me again when she gets back from India. This is a thousand times better than my last birthday (the worst one in my life) where I got stomach flu and couldn't eat anything.

Now I shall keep on contemplating what to get for my mum's birthday, which is on the 31st.

I discovered many new things today.

Discovery 1: Most humans are stupid

This theory has been built up steadily throughout the day. The first lesson I had in the morning was econs tutorial, where I never cease to be surprised how Mrs Leong manages to turn every single period we have with her into a torturous stretch of time. I thought nothing much could go wrong since we were just getting back our econs MCQ papers, but she still somehow gave us the Look (the "you little dumb worm" look), and asked us all questions that we couldn't answer, not because we didn't know how to answer but because we really didn't know what she was asking for.

I have some general observations with regard to this. Mrs Leong asks us a question. We don't know what she is talking about. In order to avoid the Look we try to answer what we think she is asking. We hit nowhere near the right answer and she gives us the Look. She repeats the question in another form, and she continues to Look at us. Deciding that saying someting is better than just sitting there and looking back at her, we sprout half-formed theories linking interest rates and unemployment that we know are crap once we hear ourselves saying it. It is, however, too late, and her overall estimate of our stupidity level increases even further, and her way of overcoming it is to ask us even more questions that we cannot answer. This forms a Vicious Cycle where both sides think that the other is stupid, with the class wondering why she is asking such dumb questions and Mrs Leong wondering why we can't answer such dumb questions. I rest my case.

My theory was further substantiated in the next lesson we had, Chemistry lecture. We were told, in no uncertain terms, that the lecturer had a Very Short Time to complete the syllabus, as well as the biochemistry summary which will no doubt Help In Our Revision. I fail to see how reading the lecture notes in the speed of a bullet train and jabbing the notes on the visualizer rapidly to emphasize her points manages to accomplish this. Even worse, her efforts to draw in as little breath as possible to finish her words also keeps her voice a constant monotone; and unfortunately for me, her somewhat shrill voice has the effect of penetrating my consciousness, so that I was unable to slip into a restful sleep. I don't think that many people had that problem, though, considering that most of my row looked gone to this world.

I discovered further stupidity when I was retaking my NAFA test. While the average female pretty much stops growing taller by the age of 14, the standing board jump passing mark increases every year. So the typical adolescent is expected to somehow find greater spring in her legs, even when puberty causes her hips to enlarge. For a butt heavy person like me, the stupidity of the sports council or whatever organisation designing this test is an especially sore point because I jump to the same mark every year but I'm getting a bloody bronze (which in the PE dept's opinion is a fail) because the mark keeps increasing. Argh. I got three As and 2 Cs for the rest, so I was supremely irritated after my second NAFA today.

ANd then when I went to the concourse after PE, I encountered further stupidity. Those nice silver tables replaced the big, ugly, white ones presumably so that MORE Vj students could use them. But what has happened thus far is that everyone is just moving the table together because they find that they have no space. I don't see why the money had to be wasted in the first place.

Discovery 2: Failing a test when you didn't study feels infinitely better than failing a test than you did study

This is because in the former, you know that it's partly cos you're lazy and suspect it's possibly cos you're stupid; while in the latter, you KNOW that it's because you were stupid. I find it rather ironical that I spent the most time studying for Chemistry, yet I scored the worst marks for it. The remaining nine out of ten days I had after my competition was wholly spent doing Chemistry, becasue I knew it sucked. One day was spent on math, and I left just the day before for econs and physics. To my amazement, I passed physics, math and will probably pass econs, but I GOT MY FIRST BLOODY FAILURE IN VJ ON THIS CHEMISTRY PAPER. Argh. It was almost amusing, actually. The first thing my chem tutor did when he stepped into class today was to pass around photocopied articles that quoted "success is not forever, failure is never final". With sinking hearts we made educated guesses on which category we were approximately under.

Sigh, now I feel like an idiot in more ways than one.

My third discovery is that I have:
1) Underestimated the number of people reading my blog
2) Underestimated the gossip index of the average student

This comes after certain curious souls whom I didn't know knew of my blog, as well as several individuals whom I know knew of it tapped me and asked, "ay, who is it? Is he among those on stage this morning?".

(sweatdrop)

I deleted the previous post cos it was having problems...the words were screwed on my com.

Haha, how fast scandals spread!

I just had a very entertaining and enlightening converstation with Ram, who was telling me about rather nosey speculation about my level one crush among the current debate team. It appears that some rather kepo individuals (or perhaps ONE kepo individual) go on blog-surfing frenzies through links on different blogs. Everyone who comes to my blog should leave a tag or something. Since presently I can still count on one hand the number of people I've told my blog address to, and they're only eight pple that I know know of my blog. That makes things quite confusing.

Anyway, thank goodness this is only a level one crush, or I will probably be EMBARRASSED. Since I'm not, I shall happily provide my views on the matter.

Apparently Robin was traumatised that anyone could like tat's smile and tat couldn't imagine who could like Robin's smile. I now think BOTH of them are so cute! The way they bitch about each other is really quite adorable. Yet again, there's really no accounting for taste. But it does make sense that a big mouth goes with a nice smile.

This comes with a startling realisation--guys are really more bitchy and busybody than girls are, especially guys in debate. Though I'm happy to say that most debate guys admit it more than the usual breed of male gossipers, who feign a studied lack of interest but seem to know more crap than anyone else. I get surprised by my own dear father sometimes when he starts talking about his colleagues.

I think the one main difference between the typical female gossip and the typical male gossip is the concentration. Male busybodies tend to specialise; they pick one subject and they harp on it/him/her for an extended period of time. Girls, however, tend to bitch about everything under the sun when they're in the mood for it.

The same goes for nagging. Mothers tend to nag about everything in particular--the state of your room, your homework, your clothes etc etc etc. Fathers, on the other hand, pick one thing they wish to nag about, and will remind you of it constantly day and night (This is based on empirical evidence, after I failed my math exam in sec three). The MF duo is a truly frightening combination.

To Judith and all others who say I lack hormones: I think I have a level one crush! I find one of my debate juniors rather cute and I think that he has a nice smile. My mind also wanders to him occasionally, so it fulfills the technical definitions. Does that count?

Other than that, my life has been dreary. I was rather grumpy today and especially didn't feel like talking to my parents. I'm sick of explaining myself. Can't people just accept what I do and say and just stop asking? Oh from my parents there's a whole slew of questions, but even in school now some people go, "WHY do you still take Chinese?" or "Why did you come VJ? (after one and a half years some pple still ask that)".

Especially parents. You know, I think school and the stage between adolescence and adulthood doesn't suit people like me. I'm so sick of the restrictions that surround us: for God's sake, EIGHTEEN IS NOT YOUNG. If it wasn't for education, I would be working, starting my own family and basically making my own decisions. It isn't the rebelliousness of teenagers either, and I'm not this hot-blooded youngster that has a big ego but little brain. I find school so childish--so many rules just to instill discipline, like it hasn't been done continually in my last ten years. Respect for authority just because it is authority. Well, yes, it's not that I see no point in it at all; but suddenly I just feel too old for all these. Urgh, man, you know I really always thought Brenda was this little old woman inside a young girl, but after meeting her on Saturday i realised that I feel even older. This is terrible.

There's still university to go through. I had everything clear within me a few months ago--my direction in life, what I wanted to achieve in the end, and exactly where I wanted to go in the next few years. Now I feel so lost and trapped. And so tired. The details of my process has become blurred, yet my end point is clearer than ever before, leaving me stuck in the middle of nowhere not knowing where to go.

I realise that I'm a bloody workaholic. Too bad I can't seem to apply to my studies.

Had a headache today, causing me to sleep through GP and miss some rather exciting stuff. Exciting for GP, anyway. Thanks to drugs, my headache is now gone, but I intend to sleep early tonight.

Here's my little anecdote of the day:

I went to Pulau Ubin with my sister and her Japanese friend last year, and after some cycling, we went to this hawker-centre-restaurant near the jetty to have lunch. My sister wanted to eat Hor Fun, and on the menu, a plate of 'normal' Hor Fun cost $4, but our attention was caught by this 'Moonlight Hor Fun' which was one dollar more expensive. WOndering what the hell was 'Moonlight Hor Fun', we ordered it, and waited with anticipation until we discovered, to our disappointment that the one dollar was paid for an egg cracked on top of the brown mess.

In future, I'm going to open a restaurant and sell 'sunshine noodles'.

During the bbq Amanda came very late because of some fire near her house, and we were all laughing when she said that the strange thing was, it seemed to be coming from the fire station. Yesterday's papers did report a fire, and she was right--it occured at the fire station workshop. Apparently there were no fire engines there. Congratulations to Amanda for having witnessed a rare and embarrassing event.

I got a date for my birthday! Yiling asked me to keep my afternoon free and said she's going to treat me ice-cream at the very nice Hagen Das (spelling correct?) in esplanade. Or rather, she said 'we' so I think Hui Fen's coming along too. So happy that she remembered, although I guess I was rather explicit about it. But honestly, when I said "I'm going to get someone to treat me ice-cream here on my birthday" I really didn't mean it as a hint. As in, the party I was going to coerce was not intended to be Yiling. Thank you so much! (I thank you first, so you can't back out of it=P) Really very touched. I love these little thoughtful gestures.

Uh, come to think of it, I still have Yiling's and Hannah's present plus two nice cards sitting somewhere in my room. I better get them out. We can have a gift exchange on my birthday! Brilliant idea, isn't it?

Sigh I want to call my sis tonight but I want to sleep early too; there's a two and a half hour differential between here and India. Never mind, I shall last it out.

My fishes' home is now complete, and they're now swimming around doing nothing. Maybe I shall create another earthquake soon, though it's quite a pity. It's nicer than before; the slope is neater and the circle is more, um, circular. It was quite funny watching them at first because they kept changing their minds, they were shifting the pebbles in and out under the log like they weren't quite sure where to put them.

I realised the Judith was right--my parrot fish are HUGE. This realisation came after my mum came across smaller (quite significantly smaller) parrot fish being sold at the aquarium for $88. (The small ones are about $2 to $5, so $88 is considered very big). Of course my mum sniffed at it and commented that they were half the size of ours. After that, my sister joked that we could sell them both for $888 each. The lucky red fish! Will give long life, good health and good luck.

I was thinking about the theory of evolution when another question about God popped into mind. If God created man, who created God? If we can accept that God just existed, then why can't we accept this at a lower level: that man just existed?

I think I can never take up a religion because I think too much.

I was just recalling a conversation I overheard from my mum's tuition pupils the other day. It went something like this:

Boy A: "What's a condom ar? Can eat annot?"

Girl B: "No lah! Where got condom can eat one?"

Boy C: "But it has chocolate flavour what."

Boy B: "Yar loh. If cannot eat then why got chocolate flavour?"

Girl B: "But I never heard of condoms can eat one leh?"

Boy D: "Then maybe it's not a condom..."

Boy B and C: "But it wrote there 'condom' what!"

At that point my mother gave up and told them what a condom was. Come to think of it, condoms in NTUC are sold beside the sweet section near the counter, and are packaged in small attractive boxes. I was mistaken once myself seeing a bright pink package with 'strawberry flavour' on it.

Had such a tiring day yesterday--when I was at the bbq at Woon Teng's house at night I was on the verge of falling asleep. I was drifting off on her bed after the bbq. I asked the bunch whether they wanted to backpack in China--Brenda's interested and will probably go, Hui Chu will depending on when we go and Amanda depending on her parents and results. Woon Teng's interested but she says her parents may not allow. In any case, Woon Teng, you better not complain too much or I'll really knock you over the head and leave you somewhere (bares teeth).

I think between Lin Zi and I we've recruited enough females for the trip. So now we are desperately short of males--the thing is, Singaporean guys will be going for NS, so we need to find interested non-Singaporeans. That considerably limits our pool. Sigh, I hope Lin Zi's PRC classmates are agreeable to it.

I just found the most effective and cheapest dieting method.

1) Buy three sardine currypuffs, at three for one dollar, from the nice lady selling them just outside the MRT station.

2) You will eat the first sardine currypuff and discover it to be made of a lot of flour, a lot of butter, a lot of grease and very little sardine. You feel your jaw aching from the effort of chewing the unaccountably tough pastry, but you think that this is breakfast and you should be eating more. So you eat a second sardine currypuff.

3) After the second sardine currypuff, you realise that you really cannot stomach down the third. So you tie the plastic bag carefully and put it in your bag, not wanting to waste food. At the same time you think, in a very virtuous mood, "I'll eat it later, when I'm hungry."

4) You go to school and attend your lessons. Somewhere in the middle of the day, you start to feel somewhat like eating. You think of the sardine currypuff in your bag, and you decide that you are actually not that hungry after all.

This is how I managed to survive my day with two currypuffs at around seven in the morning and one untouched in my bag all the way until dinner.

I think it'll work with potato currypuffs as well, provided you buy them from the same nice lady I got my sardine ones from.

I shall thus name this as the Currypuff Diet.