Section 656 is empty I see section 652, 653... 654... 658... wait wait, it's 658 already? Where's sections 655, 6, and 7??? If you had scrutinized the Recruit section in Classified, this small box at the top right hand corner will tell you that section 655 gives you the jobs for Petroleum/ Chemical, 656 is for Pharmaceutical/ Life science and 657 is for Aviation/ Aerospace. So you engineers get job offers... you business and sales people get job offers and all you good-looking and photogenic people have plenty of talent scouts and bridal shops looking for you. But what about those undergraduates majoring in chemistry, pharmacy, life science or aeronautical engineering??? Nothing's listed. The whole section's skipped! Are there really no jobs available?? Nah, probably not. But the number of jobs are this many that they don't get listed on the newpapers. Bleak. But I'm not worried yet. Yet.

Wet I was sitting on the bus, staring at the low grey stretch of thickening, darkening and precipitating rain clouds that spelt a wet journey home. But I didn't expect it to be this wet. Before I knew it, someone up there turned on the shower head and the rain bathed everything and everyone beneath the dreary and grey expanse. I was still on the bus and the sheets of water that cascaded down the sides of the large windows blurred my vision so much that I couldn't even see the rain drops. If only I wasn't looking out of the bus into the wetness that awaited me. It would have been a pretty sight if I were sitting in a fancy restaurant looking at sheets of water cascading down large glass panels into sparkling pools filled with dainty fishes and lights instead. But when it's time to get off the bus, it's time to get out of the bus... into the wet. My small, lightweight umbrella was no refuge or shelter from the pouring rain. Pouring rain sounds so cliched that it doesn't exactly describe the kind of rain that blasted my umbrella. Just imagine a spoilt showerhead with an infinite supply of water. The perfect kind of rain for a shampoo advertisement. A stylish model can whip out her bottle of shampoo, foam it up and wash her hair under the shower of water. And I'm not even sure if they can capture her face cause the rain just blurs everything. I got home with my jeans all wet and heavy and soaked with water. It's all wet! Drenched! I can wring water out of it! No kidding and no exaggerating! So, my point is is this: It's the heaviest downpour I've ever seen. **bleah** Other nitty gritties of the day: Wrist-ache from playing guitar. Maybe it has to do with the size of my guitar which is smaller than usual. Then again, my fingers are a little short to play normal sized guitars. hahahaha.

Here's another scrap of paper I found. During the exams, I was inspired by my friend's blog at http://nusfantasy.blogspot.com and I escaped from my stress into a world I created, Lushya. Lushya is governed by the Source-- the energy giver, the lifegiver, the central authority, the all knowing and all powerful Source. Planet Lushya is in the third galactical orbit and it's surrounded by rings of energy known as the galacticoid orbital belt and protected the Enervon shield. The Source is found in the heart of Lushya, at the galactical core. All life comes from the Source and goes back to the Source. Lushya's landscape is divided into four areas. The Northen plot, Nectarisa, is known for its luscious greenary. The Southern plot is called Sunivia, a region bursting with energy and the capital of Lushya where the main authorities reside. The Eastern plot, Eukarisa, is filled with wildlife and fauna that is diverse and beautiful. The Western plot is called Windevia, where the winds and waters meet the sky, where the view is breath-taking, and where the unknown deep lies. In the Lushya that I create, I become Zea Maysteria, born and raised in Nectarisa with a deep curiosity and fascination for the unknown deep in Windevia. I know the Source and the Source bears authority over me. I am later bestowed with gifts and is sent as an agent to earth on a mission -- a mission yet unrevealed to myself. I wanted to create a history for Lushya, a system for Lushya, a magic for Lushya, a law for Lushya, a political system for Lushya, an education system for Lushya, a family for Lushya and so much more. Writing is such a task of magnitude. But before I get lost in Lushya, which only exists in my mind as a wonderful Eutopian escape, I better anchor myself to reality. In due time perhaps, writing, alongside my interest in Chinese calligraphy and guitar playing, will become good past times.

In my frenzy reorganizing and neatening up of my room in Project packup, I found scraps of paper with valued thoughts and emotions. Here's one of them that brought tears to my eyes as I was writing. 眼前所看到的，真是心酸的一幕。 The green bin A wrinkled old woman, hunched over with age, wizened, small, frail, and greyed. Plunged her hand without hesitation into the green bin. Such bins, never explored the same way by the young and materialistic, who only dip their hands into pockets brimming with riches from doting parents and the latest technological devices that is never deemed existentially necessary to the old woman. The green bin, condemned by over-protective and pampering parents, found its place as a unhygenic mass littered with flies and cigarette butts and as a means of survival full of crushed cans that can be exchanged for some miserly sustenance. The old woman, accustomed to the art of living through the bin, lay the cans on the stoney floor. With a determined stamp, she crushed the embittered hoplessness and pushed forth with mere determination to get by. Her back is bent, but she steadily picks up the crushed can and packs it into her bag, unashamed. As the young watched in cold apathy and self-centred disgust at such lowly and non-impressive behaviour, their elevated status gained from ignorance and apathy pours forth in cold stares that rains harder than the drizzle and the chilly, wet sky. I stood aside the young, helplessly, heart aching for the old woman, thinking about seeing the green bin through her eyes.

Seasonal melancholy

Misty memories,
I don't remember.
Were there
smiles and pain?
Are there things I once said,
things we once shared,
and things we once knew?
Why do I forget
all of you,
you,
and you?

We all paint our own pictures. We modify our memories. We cannot grasp the necessarily elusive and sometimes we are lost in our dreams. Seasonal melancholy.

Quote of the day:
True friends care for you more than the friendship itself.

One's on holiday, the other replied my mail in ten minutes. Within the span of half an hour, there's the phone-call and the appointment's fixed. I'm going to meet prof soon and I hope I'd be looking into tomatoes. haha. Tomorrow: I'll finish up Mission Solitude, Operation type type and Project packup. Yes I will.

okie. 7 days. no reply from prof still. But I'm not going to bug him yet. Think I've some cleaning up of my room and of my heart and mind to do first.

Two things I want to do:
1) copy the whole of Psalms from the chinese Bible. (started with Psalm 23)

23:1 耶和华是我的牧人，我必不会缺乏。
23:2 他使我躺卧在青草地上，领我到安静的水边。
23:3 他使我的灵魂苏醒；为了自己的名，他引导我走义路。
23:4 我虽然行过死荫的山谷，也不怕遭受伤害，因为你与我同在；你的杖你的竿都安慰我。
23:5 在我敌人面前，你为我摆设筵席；你用油膏了我的头，使我的杯满溢。
23:6 我一生的日子，必有恩惠慈爱紧随着我；我也要住在耶和华的殿中，直到永远。

2) Learn Chinese calligraphy.

There's so many things I want to do!
(and I have eternity to do them if I don't have this lifetime. :D )

6 days. Nothing from prof still. Will he reply me？

Day 4. No news. over and out.

Day 3 and still no reply from prof. waiting waiting...

It's been 2 days after emailing my prof. No replies. Dear prof, please check your mail soon!

I finally gathered enough courage to email my mentor prof for help. So out went my first email... and keep praying that I'll walk with the Lord and He'll discipline me.

I have too much pride and it cripples everything.
Please take away my pride Lord,
fill me with your meekness and love,
and make me the person you want me to be.

What's on my mind:
1) family
2) my walk with God
3) my ministry
4) urops
5) driving

What's my perspective on who God is?
Who are those around me?
How am I spending my time?
Where's the Word of God in my life?
What are the gifts that the Lord has given to me and how am I giving?

There's so many things on my mind.
So many things to sort out.
I need to retreat to a place where I can be alone, with God.

Questions Who are the crusades? What's the war of the crusades about? What really is leukemia? Why did it start? How did it start? Why can't I feel the pain? Why am I so numb? Why don't I care? What do I not know? Where am I heading? What do I want? I don't know. I'm blind when the world only revolves around me.

On Japanese anime
(my fren said 'Jap' is sorta racist...)

I'm done with another series which didn't make me cry too much. It's called Chobits. The writers of the show are super super super hentai. Serious. That's quite gross.

Why am I stuck to Jap anime? Coz i think the writers are rather good psychologists. They dig up issues from our darker side which is unspoken of and pin it to a dream in the story. AIR is about the self-protective function of lonliness that stops others from hurting you. Chobits... is about how cyborgs, no matter how real they are, are never the same as humans. Should cyborgs ever have free-will, they still remain as machinary whose data can cease to exist. Humans don't forget as they do. Junni Kokki goes deeper into politics, self-doubt, betrayal, trust, purpose in life, purity, God, systems... plenty of depth and food for though. Fruit basket... strangely enough, I don't have much impression on it. Perhaps I didn't cry as much but I certain did laugh my head off. haha.

And of course, plenty of pretty graphics. haha. Awaiting the next series to watch.


Shopping
I'm on a shopping craze! Bought three pairs of earrings yesterday, thinking of giving one pair away and buying more tomorrow. Wanna get a pair of jeans and plenty of other stuff. Sigh, what should I do with the mounting amount of clothes in my cupboards that are a little old... If only I'm familiar the art of sewing... I'd cut up and patch my pants into skirts or redo some tops or something. haha.

Things unsettled and have to be settled soon!
1) Major. BMS? MCB?
2) Urops. Still too humchee erm not courageous to email prof (my fren say cannot anyhow use humchee. coz it means boy's precious darlings tho it means no courage... i respond with ????)
3) Driving.
4) Ministry.
5) Pack room. Will do it now now.

Thought of the day:
I have a normal, boring blog on snippets of my life and sometimes, I'm simply talking to myself. haha.

Thought of the day 2:
It's tough coming up with new passwords. I'm too boring. and i tend to forget them. sheesh.

Anime of the day:
Finished 13 episodes of AIR... and I cried buckets and buckets and buckets. Love such shows. Awwwwwwww.

Being Mummy's Girl After blogging and a good bathe, it was time for bed... and I awoke in the wee hours of the night with a horrible horrible tight tight tight sensation around my head. Tension headache? Whatever you call it, it was a pre-cursor of migraine and I thank God that the migraine pounding didn't set in too badly last night. But it was enough. The same weakness in the knees, the same churning in the stomach and the pain in the head that wouldn't go away. I threw up umpteen times. Not exaggerating. I couldn't even remember how many times. It was almost like a routine. I didn't stop till I was too tired and till most of the acid in my stomach was cleared out. I wonder if it had to do with 猪肝面线... And I'm really really thankful for my mum who was up all night with me as I rushed into the toilet to make horrible retching noises and wasted plenty of toilet paper. Mum's presence makes healing wonders. Of course, Mum was massaging my head and it was really really therapeutic... and I'd fall asleep before the next cycle of being weak-in-the-knees and I-need-to-visit-the-toilet. There's one thing I love about forever being mummy's girl -- and it's being cared for like a baby, even in the middle of the night when u're messing up the house. I don't want to grow up and get all independent in this aspect. It feels warm and safe to know that you're being taken care of.

I souped up my phone

Spilt boiling hot claypot 猪肝面线 soup all over the table and chair and floor, inviting MANY Many stares and attracted sufficient flies to bugger me as I eat whatever's left. To top it all up, I soaked my phone in SOUP. It smells and feels like oily 猪肝面线 soup and the 3, 6 and 9 buttons have been rendered malfunctional. And my phone still smells like soup. And the soup left horribly spotty stains on my pants. and soupy smells on my phone. My PHone. My PHOne. My Phone.

Im uncontactable till my phone revives.

All-time favourite night snack:
Square Jacobs/ Julie's biscuits dipped in Milo.
Warm, sweet, savoury and crunchy.

Simple delight for muggers at night.

What's-up of the moment: studying = Reading up on eukaryotic gene expression... transcription and what nots. I'm fighting for time to read my hundred-dollar textbook amidst being distracted with haphazard and futile thoughts on choosing the right major (BMS or MCB) and getting myself determined enough to fix my academic foundation by burning up my hols with mugging and preparation for UROPs and other what nots. And of course, still getting distracted with fiddling the guitar. Great way to destress. I should go back to studying. I figured I should blog more often. It's quite disappointing when u visit someone else's blog and there's nothing new. Perhaps that explains why xiaxue's consistency rakes up so many visitors? And my gooderness, I realised Mr Miyagi and Mr Brown are from ACS??? (unless i was dreaming that I went blog browsing last nite.) And I figure I shouldnt start blogging in their style and forget my own. Sheesh. influences. Snap outta it. Off to mug.