Here here...

Once upon a time, my little one and I would spend time on this book together...









It really is an EASY-to-read BIG book. It's a cool kiddie guitar book (and it's quite idiot-proof too). Look at all the pics and big words! So that's how I started my hanging out with the little one.

And erm, my cool camera is actually nokia 6610i. Cool effects not included [Photoshop contributes the happening factor. hahaha :) ]

Back to school tomorrow. It was freezing in the library even though I was wearing long-sleeves + sweater. And I was so sian of studying, I snapped the messy sight that contributed to my sian-ness... (and I realised that I might have just boosted some guy's ego coz he might think that I was taking his pic. eeks. oh please.)



Study hard peeps.

Exam period daily duties

Struggle to wake up.

Drag myself to school.

Camp in the library.

Wait for lunch.

Lunch.

Mug. Mug. Mug. Fight droopy eyelids.

Wait for dinner.

Dinner.

Mug mug mug.

Music in the library plays on.

Get homeward-bound.

Bathe.

Keep this little one company before it gets too late:


Blog.

Pack-up.

Off to bed.

*Repeat*

Something is missing. Time to slot in -time for God-

Getting Toothy

On the issue of teeth, lemme just clear it up once and for all. For the numerous numerous bunches of all of you who actually noticed and are wondering how come I've teeth of cute sizes and what nots... Yes yes, I still have my baby teeth. I think I've said that after my discovery (when I visited the T.F.D...). It's a recognized clinical thingie. Some people don't even develop permanent teeth. I just happen to have a few recognizable baby teeth.

So what's gonna happen to them? Baby teeth are not meant to last... and mine have way outlasted their supposed lifespan already. One day, I'll just end up with many missing teeth. Not to mention, I'm having this shortening root prob thingie in one of my permanent teeth. (Reads: It'll fall off too.) Ultimately, I'll have to go 'bo-gay', or fix up some dentures (NOooooooo!!!!), or build in the braces. Braces sounds the best of the worst. Then again, things won't happen till vitamin M has accumlated sufficiently in the black hole of whatever I can call a bank account.

On another note, my 21st big day is coming in 1 month and 11 days. I welcome contributions to my make-the-braces-fund. You can be cruel and leave me to be bo-gay when I'm hitting my prime age (whenever that is), but don't worry, I'll still call you my friend. muahahaha.

Sigh. back to the books.

Yummilicious.

A simpler version of something more sophisticated....

oh please. It's not a high class cleaning sponge.

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what I like...

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True blue real honey cake! (from Ambon!)

It reminds me of the all-wonderful smooth and soft white wine delight (served with white wine sauce and vanilla ice-cream) that I once had. The familiar taste and texture have never been met my tastebuds again till today! Sophisticated delight simplified. I like this honey cake! (Wish I could show you white wine delight... but but but. No pics la.)

Random Rolls...

Randomatic 1: Graduation = certificate and more more.....
Yes yes, so I'm graduating with no more than a certificate. No, wait, correction. I'm graduating with a certificate, plus friends, plus + plus + plus. The only thing I don't graduate with is a bf.
Why do some people make such a fuss over this?

Nah, it's nothing to do with peer pressure. It's to do with the generation above us who has some sorta in-built assumption that girls should get married after graduation and start a family and await the joy of having grandchildren. According to that assumption, (if we do our mathematics right), girls therefore should get attached by the tertiary days (and preferably the tertiary days since the guys are supposed to be older and more matured and what nots). And so, how come this girl is not attached? "Something must be not too right with this girl," thinks the older generation... and they discuss amongst themselves about all the possible problems and solutions in secret.

Hello hello, I'm perfectly okie with being single and available, even if that is going to be a permanent situation. Nono, it has nothing to do with walking down crooked paths and taking a deviant preference for my other halves. Nono, it has nothing to do with the lack of a social life (I don't define social life as having an exciting/thrilling/adventurous night life.) I'm just moving along as God would have it. okie, you're probably right that I'm not proactive. Read the sentence before this, I'm moving along. If something happens, something happens. If something doesn't happen, time still doesn't stop and I'll still be doing what is in store for me to do.

Don't worry about it. (okie, So maybe I'm sounding too passive to affirm your wishes to see grandchildren and greatgrandchildren and what nots, but no worries. I haven't even hit the big 21... okok. I'm hitting it soon. *no more self-denial and hiding behind teenage-hood* But still, on and on we're trudging...)

Randomatic 2: Racial harmony
With all the hype about racial harmony and bloggers who kenna sued for racist entries... I can't help but think about that old lady on the mrt who's hurling abuse at another race. I couldn't understand much dialect, but she's holding on to some grudge from the kampong days about a particular race who's ultra lazy and stinks and bla bla bla. She was gesturing wildly and complaining loudly enough for all of us to stare at her. I was secretly wondering if anyone will try to sue her. But then again, for an old lady to be talking to an invisible person on the train...

I think racial harmony is something I've seriously taken for granted. Wonder if I can say this for the rest of my generation... but I do think so. Maybe I've been sheltered enough to meet all the nice people... but I've had plenty of pleasant experiences with my multi-racial project groups and tutorials and what nots. The only time when I got irritated with a particular bunch of people on the bus (yeah, different race) was because they were making super a lot of noise and were laughing way too loudly. Then again, if it were another bunch of people, I'd just be as pissed...no matter who they are. (okie, I have to acknowledge that I have double standards... I won't be pissed if I'm part of the noise-producing crowd :x )

Race doesn't affect how I see people or treat people. They're people, just like each and everyone of us. This plain fact only goes under when we drown and suffocate others in stereotypes that are confused with reality.

Quote of the day:
Hero is one alphabet short of zero. Make it or break it.


And now, I'm going blog-surfing. Can't bring my head and hands into fixing my report. :s

BLEACHing out

I'm so stuck to BLEACH. So sooOOOO stuck. Other than the fact that I've been feeding on healthy doses of Sailor Moon and what other anime on teevee since the days of my youth, I think pretty graphics have some sort of magnetic influence on me. hahaha.

SO why am I stuck to all these anime? Coz they're funny... nono, hilarious! They're cute, pretty, full of action and suspense entwined in semi-mysterious plots... The typical make-up of the cast includes a hero, a pretty/ stylish sidekick, a rash big guy, a smart cool-head and of course, the clown. A magnetic formula that adds sufficient humour, conflict and action to sap up time and attention from ppl like me.

Anime watching's an activity that doesn't require much effort ( unlike studying muahahaha).

And I think the triumph of all the different underdogs and their supportive sidekicks has some sorta draw on most people.

And tada! I'm stuck on BLEACH. Till then... more anime awaits muahaha

Growing up

It's not about turning 21. It's about being caring and considerate, where you see beyond yourself and care more about friends and family. It's about learning to stand in the other person's position and being able to respond in love and understanding. It's about being willing to reach out beyond what we're too used to. It's about giving and giving up the want to receive all the time. It's about remembering that young or old, weak or strong, proud or humble, quick or slow,we're all people.

It's about bearing the weight of being grown up without fear or worry, because there is hope in the Lord.

For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. (Romans 15:4)

Depressing uttering

I was seriously drowning out in work and wasting electricity on lights, fans and computers everyday till 4am. I sleep thinking about work, I wake thinking about incomplete work, I take the bus thinking about the work I can do next... I work WoRk woRk worK DroWn DrOwn DroWn droWn Work DrowN.

No time to blog. No time to indulge. No time to think. No time to sort out what I'm thinking. Panick. Worry. No time No time.

And the wierd things is, the more I try to cut out time from other things for work, the more I drown out in no-timeness and the more suffocating work gets. Work can simply swallow up every other thing and there's never enough time.

What does work swallow up? Everything that was once meaningful; memories that once meant much; thoughts that once deserved attention; people who once meant something. I remembered a fleeting thought about why acknowledging God is not a crutch for the weak, but I did not spare it much attention. I remembered enjoying myself in the greenhouse, pollinating orchids and looking at pitcher plants proudly shown by its excited post-grad owner, but a grey emptiness masks it. Happy moments leave an empty vacuum when no one shares it. I remember little of those moments that I was excited about because there's little significance in things which are only significant to me. Who would bother?

Now I see. Work consumes me. Suddenly, I'm cut off from the world. Suddenly, it doesn't matter that I exist. It doesn't make a difference, does it? Maybe it'd be better if I weren't here, as a nuisance who has to shove things off and turn irresponsible because of the Work which consumes everything.

On a depressing morbid note, if I were to disappear, I'd perhaps create a little ripple that shakes everything and everyone around me but for a miniscule portion of eternity, and fade away as an insignificant misty memory.

I made choices. I confined my world to myself. The flip-side of having no-strings attached anywhere is to be alone.

No time? I have an unnecessarily degratory and overly-pessimistic view of things? Rubbish?

This dark depth and morbidity is surreal in my reality and yet is reality in the surreal.


Simple-reality-thought-of-the-day:
They get scary when you start fitting them into your steoreotype. And nobody is a stereotype.

More on Firsts.

First Retro Party I've ever attended
(Courtesy of bday gal Jen Jen :) )

Party was really FUN :) haha. How should I put it. Jen's pals were really game for retro-ing out and came in all sparkles, scarves, sunglasses and colours of the 60s and 70s. hahaha. Plenty of action and sabo-ing under pink and blue lights that bathed the place. (Nah, wasn't part of the action... Me is not exactly the hip and happening type but I like to indulge in the atmosphere together with my other buddies. It was seriously fun and entertaining to sap in ze atmosphere.)

Buffet foodie was yummilicious, so was the choco-cake with delightful textures and crispy bases.

Funnest part of the celebration? Photo-taking! muahaha. If I can figure out whether I can and will, I might just stick some pics up. No promises. I'm turning blog-dead (ie. I'm blogging less and less and less... ...)

Firsts.

Firsts.

Part I -- First time: Stolen handphone.
Bugis junction is a dangerous place with many hp pickpockets. Or... there could be a main pickety-pockety culprit, or a syndicateful of them. Watch out. 2 of my other friends have had similar experiences. Some sly slob of a guy (Don't know why I think it's a guy) unzipped the smaller compartment of my bagpack and whisked my hp away. Nobody noticed anything until I wanted to sms my friend. Tada, POCKET OPEN! The usual procedures follow: emptying of bag, getting your friend to call your phone, and realising that your phone has been switched off. (Similar procedures were applied in circumstances during which my friends' hps were stolen.) When the hoo-haas are over, the next step would be to suspend ze SIM card.

*Watch your belongings at bugis junction!!! Especially when it's getting crowded at the MRT station... and when everyone's squeezing their way up the escalators....*

Part II -- First time: Sprained Foot
I have never sprained my foot before. Sprained fingers and toes in the days of my younger youth while playing ball and bobbing down the stairs hazardously (respectively). Today, I didnt even do anything dangerous. I simply walked down a step. And I have no idea how my foot ended up in the wrong position and how my body weight dealt ze blow to my foot. I crumpled and fell down. (And nobody came to my rescue.) After some struggling, I finally got to my feet and hobbled somewhere to sit down. I thought it didn't hurt that much. But the dizziness and nausea hit me for no good reason. What was that??? Nause and dizziness together with sprain? DUh, doesn't fit. SO I popped one mentos into my mouth, felt like puking more and just crouched in misery for a few moments. When it's all done and over, I hobbled to get a cab and made it home.

Part III -- First time: Stolen hp followed by sprained foot.
Sprained my foot. No hp to call for help to tell the respective people that I can't make it to school. Don't have contact numbers of the people I need to get in touch with.

To the guy who stole my phone:
Too bad for you that my lousy 3100 has spoilt vibration and spoilt LCD screen. The only thing that's precious to me are those contact numbers and messages. Bet they don't mean much to you anyway. Give up your life of theft la. Mabbe you can be a busker and perform magic shows like "The hp disappearing Act". Just turn over a new leaf la. Get a job at a hp shop and offer your knowledge of handphones which will be appreciated.