Sub Rosa

265 posts is a long time

2008-04-10T04:46:00.001+08:00

But well, all good things come to an end.

I've moved.

2008-04-09T22:46:00.001+08:00

Clicking on random links in an attempt to justify a 15 minute break leads to this:

http://www.channel4.com/entertainment/tv/microsites/B/bite/shows.jsp

And I thought Channel 5 was bad...right, here's a challenge then. Find a more pointless show.

Just a barfly

2008-03-03T06:54:00.002+08:00

One day you won't be here
One day you will leave
One day you won't be here
But then I will not grieve

Grief's not for tomorrow
It will be done today
I won't postpone my sorrow
I know that you won't stay

The page will turn, the grass will burn
And green it will not be
The music's gone, we've sung our song
And it has set us free

One day you won't be here
One day you will leave
One day you won't be here
But then I will not grieve

slow down, you're going too fast

For my best friends

2008-02-27T00:41:00.003+08:00

Nessa, Toot, Shane, Ajyt, Aaron, Vidhi, Dranko, Thompson, Jannie, Si Ying...and everyone else who keeps me sane

We're built to last :)

Memo

2008-02-22T20:27:00.003+08:00

Dear God,

It's probably a good thing you're omnipotent. Because I sure as hell am not, and I'm gonna need quite a lot of help this week. But there's no fear in love, is there - and You've always got my back. I love You.

Thanks in advance for a mind-blowing success.

Love,
Val

p.s. if You could engineer a guitar appearing at some point...that would be nice too :)

2008-02-22T00:20:00.002+08:00

From za's blog:

Noah: Would you just stay with me?

Allie: Stay with you? What for? Look at us, we're already fighting.

Noah:Well that's what we do, we fight... You tell me when I'm being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you're a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you're back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing.

Allie: So what.

Noah: So it's not going to be easy. It's going to be really hard. And we're going to have to work at this every day. But I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, every day.

The Notebook

I refuse to be cynical. I refuse to be the kind of person people think I need to be if I want to get to where I want to get. I maintain that I don't have to be vindictive, I won't need to manipulate, I can still love, and trust, have faith, and teach, mentor, and give in to - give up for, step back for - and be a success. I refuse to be the person some people are trying to turn me into - people I respect, and love, but never want to be like. People who are unhappy, but think that's the only way they can achieve what they want. Because it's not true. Because this life is about happiness. Not indulgence, but true happiness. And I know, and always have, that that happiness demands and requires nothing but love, truth, trust, and faith. And no matter how many times I get screwed over by people for loving, being truthful, trusting, and having faith, I know, not even very deep down, in fact on the surface enough for them to wonder how the hell it's possible, that really, I am happy.

I just wish they were too.

I'll put a spell on you

2008-02-20T07:18:00.004+08:00

and when you wake up/you'll realise that you love me.

It's nice, I guess, that I'm happy for people. Besides, I'm fairly happy myself. Busy, a little stressed, dealing with constantly shifting friendship dynamics, but mostly happy.

It just gets a little lonely sometimes, and real hugs aren't all that easy to come by.

Clearly, Someone does know.

2008-02-17T22:30:00.003+08:00

From the newsletter in church today

Though God is an almighty lover, he can find himself shut out, and he longs to find an open door of vulnerability in us. It is extraordinarily hard for us to realise this, conditioned as we are by a secular ethic of success and a religious ideal of moral perfection, which may owe little to the gospel. God calls us, implants his life in the deepest centre of our being at baptism, and loves us into growth. He does not propose to us some lofty, rigid ideal to which we must attain by our own unaided human resources. We are more sinful than we know, more deeply flawed than we can recognise by any human insight; but grace works in us in the deepest places of body and spirit. We must live from our weakness, from the barren places of our need, because there is the spring of grace and the source of our strength, as Paul discovered: "When I am weak, then I am strong." When we can stand before God in the truth of our need, acknowledging our sinfulness and bankruptcy, then we can celebrate his mercy. Then we are living by grace, and we can allow full scope to his joy.

For many of us it is difficult to live honestly from this place of failure and weakness. Even if we know with our heads we should, we may still slip back into the old attitudes and behave as though God were expecting us to succeed and making his love conditional upon our achievements. If we have become hardened in such an attitude it may take some deep experience of failure to disabuse us. When a crisis occurs I may find in myself the sheer moral impossibility of obeying God. It is not simply a matter of emotional rebellion, or of knowing that "the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak"; the will itself is unwilling. I am rebellious to the core and do not even want to want God's will. Perhaps I can push it one stage further from me, and say with a kind of tortured effort, "I want to want to want your will," and then ask myself if there is even a grain of honesty or good will in that. I am helpless; and as the father of the epileptic boy cried out to Jesus, "I do believe, help my unbelief," so I can only say to God, "I am rebellious down to my roots, help me."

Here, as we teeter on the edge of despair, beset by every kind of temptation and feeling as though we had already fallen, the Spirit is released. This is his own place, the deepest place of our being where he is wedded to our spirit, where he can act and give life, where he can free us from all that hampers the true thrust of our will. God himself creates our freedom; he gives us freedom as his continuing gift of love, and he alone can influence it from within, in no way violating or diminishing it. Entombed Lazarus is a sign not simply of a certain group of people who have obviously closed their hearts against Jesus, but of each one of us. In this hopeless situation, where you are nothing but stark failure, you know the miracle of grace. This tomb is the place of resurrection, and if you believe, you will see the glory of God.

(Maria Boulding OSB, Gateway to Hope, London 1985, pp.109 - 10)

He's actually really good at this 'right time, right place, right words' thing.

Just more than halfway

2008-02-16T06:52:00.002+08:00

And still not there yet.

Internship applications, essays, portfolios, deadlines, dissertations, tickets, being around, being involved, perfection, ability, trying hard enough, being uninvolved, falling away, inability, just basically sleeping through everything...and sometimes it all amounts to too much. Though technically, it never really is. And that's the frustrating thing. That it can never be too much. And so I can never not handle it. And therefore shouldn't need anyone around. Because I have Someone. The One.

And though that gives enough comfort to keep me sane, I guess I'm not strong enough for that to give enough comfort, period, though it should. It probably does. It actually does. I just wish there was someone who knew, too.

I miss you, best friend.

Just because.

2008-02-13T04:18:00.000+08:00

The Five Love Languages

My primary love language is probably
Quality Time
with a secondary love language being
Physical Touch.

Complete set of results

Quality Time:		11
Physical Touch:		8
Words of Affirmation:		6
Acts of Service:		5
Receiving Gifts:		0

Information

Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don't understand our partner's requirements, or even our own. We all have a "love tank" that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.

Take the quiz

No surprises, really. Ah well.

2008-02-05T05:06:00.000+08:00

On a completely random note, I have the best friends in the entire world. In at least 2 different countries, on 2 different continents.

One never requires a reason to be happy :)

(might have been the hobnobs.)

ahem.

2008-01-29T06:39:00.001+08:00

Died laughing.

Guilty Purchases

2008-01-20T03:10:00.000+08:00

After a jam session where I realised the most contemporary songs I could play off by ear/by heart (essentially the same thing) were the Backstreet Boys, AND walking past Fopp and realising they had an amazing clearout sale happening, I bought:

Gary Jules, Trading Snakecoil for Wolftickets - £1
Richard Ashcroft, Keys to the World - £2
Oasis, Familiar to Millions - £3

Which, even if I convert it to S$, is $18 for 3 albums! C'mon, you've got to admit it was a bargain. Then, because I had a couple of coins left from the $10 I had broken, I walked into the clearance Galloway & Porters on Sidney Street...a bad idea if I don't want to buy anything, because there's inadvertently something I like at a ridiculously low price, and bought a huge tome of 'Best Loved Poems' for £2.95.

Am content now, and have also rationalised away all shopping urges for about 2 more weeks. Who needs new clothes when there are new cds and new books to be had? Also, new jamming possibilities! At this cool event held in a cafe called Songs in the Dark. Maaaybe. We'll see. But I'll have to brush up on picking songs up, am definitely rusty.

Other things I might finally get round to doing? Enter a couple of poetry competitions, start playing classical piano (with scores this time!) again, get back into learning French, finishing essays, trying to go for a poetry reading (stop organising formals on poetry reading days!) and looking for the elusive poetry slammers of Cambridge. They're bound to be here somewhere...

It's all looking good though. And I glad that I'm where I am, when I am, with the people I am, and with who I am. I think one might call this peace.

We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.

Ode, Arthur O'Shaughnessy

::finally::

2008-01-18T16:26:00.000+08:00

If
Rudyard Kippling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you.
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat these two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

While I reiterate that I'm not a man, nor do I want to be...'If' pretty much sums up the attitude that's gonna be necessary now.

And I'm proud of myself. Dissertation draft done, up on time, room tidied, books to be borrowed planned...weekend (kinda) sorted. Here's to a great Lent.

It was a beautiful day

2007-12-16T02:08:00.000+08:00

With things which reminded us nothing could be perfect.

More snow than I've seen in my life, more fear on the top of a slope than I've felt in my life, more tears than I'm proud of, more happiness than I thought actually doing it...and more comfort drawn from the clowns than I thought possible :)

Skiing was...not less terrifying than I thought it'd be, knowing I never was comfortable with heights, speed, and diminished control...which is exactly what skiing combines. It took me to the last day to dare to trust me, and helluva lot of patience on the Jons' part (one more than the other, but heyyy sometimes one needs yelling to get things done ;))

Am quite gutted my camera died on me, and also that I didn't pick actual skiing up fast enough to actually go skiing with the boys - probably something that's gonna take me some time to get over. There's really nothing more frustrating than knowing you could if you would, but that you won't because you're just too stupidly scared. Sitting inside watching people on the slopes was, well, not fun. And then being bored out of my mind on the magic carpet, but close to tears at the idea of another steep slope. But then the feeling of skiing down the slope I'd taken my skis off and walked down a couple of days before was nothing short of amazing. It really was a shame it was only on the last day...but then, now I can really say I want to go back next year. And I didn't, two days ago.

Also, I've got a proper injury. Ow, my knee. :D

Learnt more than skiing this week, too. Lessons I guess it's about time I decided to retain.

Was it fantastic? Well, no, there were disappointments. But mostly of my own making. And I had the best time with the best friends I have here. So yes, I'll be going back. Varsity 2008, we'll be there :)

2007-12-07T08:56:00.000+08:00

Valerie is...

finding it pleasantly but curiously ironic that in researching for her dissertation, she ends up using pages designed for NUS USP programmes.

She's also slightly disturbed that she now phrases things in terms of facebook statuses.

Oh dear.

On a side note: VARSITY VARSITY VARSITY!

Content.

2007-12-07T01:52:00.000+08:00

I've had a productive day. Finished a good part of my dissertation draft, have ideas about my portfolio essay, but most importantly, FOUND THE LAUNDRETTE. Clothes are now spinning happily in the washer. There are 2 salmon fish cakes baking in the oven, and I'm now making up a list of what to bring for Varsity.

I think I might just have finally gotten things under control.

:)

Dear friend I love you

2007-12-01T01:59:00.000+08:00

are your sheets warm tonight?

Last days are funny things. Last days of term, last days of months, last days of week(days), last days in places, last days of places. Kind of like, ends of beginnings, but beginnings of ends.

I've had an...interesting term. Learnt much, lived much, loved much. And really, what more could be asked?

And in the spirit of beginnings and ends...

The view from my old room at dusk

My new room in the morning

Here's to Advent, Christmas, and the New Year.

Resolution and Independence

2007-11-19T08:12:00.001+08:00

There was a roaring in the wind all night,
The rain came heavily and fell in floods;
But now the sun is rising calm and bright;
The birds are singing in the distant woods;
Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods;
The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chatters
And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters.

Wordsworth

There was a roaring in the wind all night. And all afternoon, too. And the rain did come heavily and fall in floods. I am, happily, sat in the warmth of my room. Hopefully, this essay will be done before the sun rises calm and bright. I can do without hearing the birds singing in the (not-so) distant woods, thank you..

Six weeks, three to go

2007-11-13T20:54:00.001+08:00

Don't get me wrong. I love cambridge. And every time I leave it's a painful tearing away. But everybody gets homesick sometimes. And I find myself yearning for home. For simple love, for honest affection, for people who would never lie to me, or hurt me, and who really, genuinely care.

And then I think about it, and I think, well, isn't that really quite selfish? It shouldn't all be about me. I've had that simple love, honest affection, and sincerity, for 21 years. Surely I can handle being away from all that, for 9 months a year. And I can. I have. But I'm tired.

And sometimes all I really want to do is go home.

where the streets have no name

2007-10-31T11:49:00.000+08:00

I see now why people who study overseas often come home a lot colder. There really isn't any other choice.

So kiss me and smile for me

2007-09-20T16:39:00.000+08:00

Departure time: 9am, Changi Airport.

I don't expect anyone to be there, cuz I'm gonna be going in around 8ish, and frankly that's waaaay too early. Shane if you turn up I'm calling your mother.

It's been great.

I can't find my passport. It could be better :p

Going to go look for it, and finish up packing now.

Cambridge, I'm coming hoooooome baby ;)

The Jeweller's Shop

2007-09-07T10:11:00.000+08:00

Your love is better than ice cream
Better than anything else that I’ve tried
And your love is better than ice cream
Everyone here know how to fight

And it’s a long way down
It’s a long way down
It’s a long way down to the place
Where we started from

Your love is better than chocolate
Better than anything else that I’ve tried
Oh love is better than chocolate
Everyone here knows how to cry

It’s a long way down
It’s a long way down
It’s a long way down to the place
Where we started from...

Sarah McLachlan, Ice Cream

2007-08-27T23:07:00.000+08:00

Vanessa Carlton, Paradise
Once upon a year gone by
she saw herself give in
every time she closed her eyes
she saw what could have been
well nothing hurts and nothing bleeds
when covers tucked in tight
funny when the bottom drops
how she forgets to fight... to fight

And it's one more day in paradise
one more day in paradise

As darkness quickly steals the light
that shined within her eyes
she slowly swallows all her fear
and soothes her mind with lies
well all she wants and all she needs
are reasons to survive
a day in which the sun will take
her artificial light... her light

And it's one more day in paradise
one more day in paradise
it's one more day in paradise
one last chance to feel alright... alright

Don't pretend to hold it in just let it out
don't pretend to hold it in just push it out
don't you try to hold it in just let it out and
don't you try to hold it in you hold it in

Summer lovin'

2007-08-13T10:30:00.000+08:00

happened so fast

It did, didn't it. It's been over a month since I've come home, and I've got just over a month till I go back. I'm not complaining either way though. It's been a brilliant holiday so far...french classes, lindy hop (finally convinced someone to go with me :D), dancing in a play, poetry slamming, found a writers' circle, relief teaching, poetry teaching, SINGFEST (STRANGLERS.SHAGGY.SUGARRAY.THESASHABACHBAND.CINDYLAUPER.PETSHOPBOYS. wish i could have gone for the second day); and on the horizon, possibly kickboxing and definitely Funeral for a Friend. In between I've managed to read...ohhh about 7 books, 4 of which are no where NEAR being on my reading list. But it's all good.

I love home. I love Cambridge too, though. The intensity of both loves worries me. If I end up being the kind of person who falls in love with every place she spends more than a month in, I'm gonna be rootedly screwed when it comes to deciding where I want to stay. And I want to stay SOMEWHERE. No nomadic lifestyle choice here, thanks. Might help if the boy has strong opinions...assuming there's a boy in the first place. Right now, just to clear things up, there isn't. Which is - really quite alright. And I surprise myself saying that, seeing as how it WASN'T quite alright just a couple of months ago. I really don't seem to feel the need for another half at this point...I'm feeling quite whole as it is. Which is nice. I'm hoping it's not merely because I'm home and therefore helluva lot more secure. Hoping that maybe I've reached some kind of transcendental maturity, emotions wise ;) thinking that's probably quite unlikely and that when I go back to Cam it's all gonna start again. OhWell.

I've been doing a little soul-searching since coming home. Didn't really like the person I was becoming in Cam, didn't always like the things she was doing, was agreeing to do and beginning to enjoy doing. And the things she was surreptitiously choosing not to do, even though she wanted to or felt she should. But things are pretty intense, and happen really fast. I never really got a chance to stop and think (though chances to cry over it I had ample), and question. I've decided the only person responsible is me. I guess my need for people too often took precedence over beliefs and behaviourial choices I should have made, or made clear. And when it comes to it, I'm for some reason strangely insecure there...and ok, fine Shane, naturally quite manja. Lack of affection rattles me. Which, I suppose, accounts for my emo-ness, and the generally annoying personality which was beginning to form. I think she was still around, the first couple of weeks home. But she's pretty much disappeared now, I hope...and the nicer results of being away from home are (also hopefully) beginning to show. Like a thicker skin, for example ;) Though still not as thick as it could be. Not sure if I want it any thicker, to be honest. People should realise words hurt, regardless of long-term intent.

The other bone I had to pick with me was the distance I was allowing to form between me and God. I'm not sure if allowing is the right word. Many times I deliberately turned away...guilt's not a nice feeling, and my reasoning went, the further away I am from God, the less guilt I'll feel, right? Well, right, to a point. 'cept I suppose it makes a difference when you know He's still around, waiting patiently for you to come back to your senses. I do a lot of sulking in my prayers. Most prayers went something like.."I KNOW I shouldn't have. But it was so much easier to...and look, I'm here all alone. Alloooone. The least you could do was send me ONE person who'd understand. But nooooo. *sulk*" SomeoneWho'dUnderstand hasn't shown up yet...but I figure it's only a matter of time. And I got the reassuarance I needed from someone I really respect, here at home. It's so much easier to be Catholic, here. Going to Church isn't something you have to plan for, making the right decisions aren't really decisions at all, and, I feel, most essentially...there are Catholics too. Catholics who pray, who sing, who face problems and share them together. Who think, who read, who question, who believe. Who are there to love, and to advise, and to hug. Just...Catholics who are there. I don't know what I would have done if I had come home, and the people I knew to be there just...weren't. In Cam I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle, if I'm fighting at all. Here...I'm part of an army. Which is...empowering, I guess. So while waiting for SomeoneWho'dUnderstand to show up, I'll just wait, and pray, and build.

Still there? Amazing. And if you've skipped the words, I'll summarize it for you. I'm so glad I'm home.

But I can't wait to go back, either. I miss the kids, I miss the place, I miss the books...I miss the learning. AND I want to take up modern dance, I want to start a poetry slam club, I want to start a weekly Ask-the-Priest thing in my room. I want to work on my diss (I could work on it now, really...I should, actually. But hey.), I want to keep writing poems, I want to write in literary journals. I want to punt, want to learn horseback riding, can't wait for the ski trip at the end of the year. I want to keep doing French and pick up Spanish, I want to win book prizes and travel grants and build an army.

And to top it all, I'm 21 in just over a month. No, I don't want any presents. I've got all I need. I've got the best friends, the best family, the best (the only, really) God...I don't need any presents. Just your laughter, your hugs, and your prayers. :)

I want to be that matchstick.

2007-06-15T09:16:00.001+08:00

It's funny, she thought, how you unconsciously give up trying. How slowly, but surely, you learn to look away, fight back the tears, swallow the pain, and deal. How quickly you discover an ability to make friends and then watch them walk away, all the time struggling not to run after, knowing that they're really happier moving on. Funny too, how rapidly people forget promises of everlasting friendship, of offers of interest, of time. Time is funny, the way it belongs to everyone, but is never satisfactorily yours. Funny how nothing ever actually seems satisfactorily yours. Not time, not friends, not love. They belong to everyone. And sometimes to someone. But never, really, you. So you share - not always gracefully, but nobody seems to notice anyway. It's so easy to be, unnoticed. Of course everyone's aware you're there, and almost definitely if you weren't, someone would say they wished you were. Since you are though, there's no need for that. It's funny, she thought, how you unconsciously give up trying...but never consciously give up.

2007-06-08T08:59:00.000+08:00

And it's breaking me down
Watching the world spin round
While my dreams fall down
Is anybody out there?

It is breaking me down
No more friend around...
And my dreams fall down...
Is anybody out there?

Can anybody out there hear me?
'Cause I can't seem to hear myself
Can anybody out there see me?
'Cause I can't seem to see myself...
There's gotta be a heaven somewhere
Can you save me from this hell?
Can anybody out there feel me?
'Cause I can't seem to feel myself

Losing my way
Keep losing my way...
Keep losing my way...
Can you help me find my way?
Losing my way
Keep losing my way
Keep losing my way...
Can you help me find my way?

I'm exaggerating. But I do really need to find someway to vent things, or at some point I probably will explode. I'm thinking kick-boxing. Or possibly, just a really long, long, hug, from someone who'd understand. The latter condition probably being the reason why kick-boxing lessons will just be an easier way forward.

Damn it, Val. Deal like you always do.

2007-06-03T15:55:00.000+08:00

http://www.secretgardenparty.com/main/

::why I sometimes wish I lived here::

on another note. how plausible would organising something like that back home be? in all seriousness. in 3 months. hmm.

Knees to the Earth

2007-05-28T18:04:00.000+08:00

Just when you think you can't:

1. Mum shows up with hugs abundant.
2. Facebook installs an X-me function, which Val rapidly and delightedly changes to 'hug me!'
3. An msn nic reminds you of a time when things were alright, and God was right there
4. Someone sends you a song which makes that time now
5. Things happen so you can.

For as long as I shall live, I will testify to Love

To you.

2007-05-24T08:32:00.000+08:00

The most important thing is, I guess, that I really am fine. That things are going well, that I'm having fun, that I'm where I want to be. But it doesn't stop me missing.

Missing random hugs, and pounces, and uncontrollabe laughter
Missing calls to starbucks
Missing the sideglance and big grin
Missing the let's just GO
Missing having someone at anytime to do anything with
Missing feeling I'm one of you.
Band.
Missing the long phonecalls and the girl talk
Missing the surprise cookies and concerts
Missing spur-of-the-moment let's go watch the sun set cycles
Missing I grew UP with you you can't fool me moments
Missing people who know me better than I do
Missing not having to fight to be me

Nessa. Toot. Shane. Ajyt. Aaron. mp10. Jess. Jordon. Jannie. YMM. Amplify. ShaunRyanMelAugyShellyLaviLeonTammy.

And there really isn't anything I need more right now than a daft looking retriever demanding a hug.

God I miss hugs.

2007-05-10T09:35:00.000+08:00

Dear God,

You know, it'll be so much easier if you just told me what you wanted.

Love,
Val.

Dear Val,

I did. You're not listening.

Love,
God.

Dear God,

*sulk*.

Love,
Val.

Because.

2007-05-03T17:59:00.000+08:00

Because I have chicken pox, and am therefore stuck in my room, and because my essay doesn't want to be written, and because I felt like it: was looking through the archives of my blog, and found this. And realised that nothing has really changed. Am not sure if that's a good or bad thing...

"Seven things I plan to do before I die:

1. Teach in a mission school in Africa
2. Fall madly in love, get married, and have 7 kids :) (And still be madly in love through it all)
3. Run barefoot on a beach, with the wind in my hair and the sound of crashing waves in my ears
4. Perform in a bona fide concert
5. Write a book
6. Learn the drums, saxophone, violin, congas (ok yes, i know I'm cheating.)
7. Impact someone's life

Seven Celebrity Crushes:

*erm. I don't have celebrity crushes.

Seven Often Repeated Words/Phrases:

1. Life
2. Rockz :)
3. Uhuh.
4. Ah...
5. *grinz*
6. Will you shut up. (predominantly to my sister. But also to 2 rather tall people.)
7. I'm FAT. *scowls*

Seven Physical Traits I Look For In The Opposite Sex:

1. Smile
2. Eyes
3. Not shorter than me. (Not hard to be.)

*I'm not really into physical. Not really.

Non-physical determinants?

Ah. He's gotta be able to make me laugh even when I want to cry. Definitely must be able to tolerate my sister, because otherwise he wouldn't last. We've gotta click, intellectually, emotionally and spiritually. Since I'm not really good at expressing my feelings, he's gotta have some amount of security and confidence - preferably more than I have. Funny, serious, sweet, gruff, loving, lovable, nuts, sane (no, he doesn't have to be perfect.) And we've gotta be best best bestest friends."

Ok, other than the most used words/phrases, NOTHING has changed.

Might explain why I'm still single.

I want to be OUT. ON THE BACKS. BY THE RIVER. But nooooooooo.

*sulk*

2007-04-19T15:55:00.000+08:00

Kent: Is this the promised end?
Edgar: Or image of that horror?
(King Lear, 5.3.261 - 2)

And so senseless death makes its way to the forefront of our consciousnesses once again. 33 kids dead in VT, shot by an angry lone gunman; 200 killed in Baghdad, burnt alive by insurgent bombs. Both should be unimaginable, mind-numbingly tragic. Yet one strikes us deeper than the other. I don't propose to belittle the tragedy of either - I have a cousin in VT, and the sudden panic felt when I read of the news is something I don't want to repeat.

It still doesn't seem right though, that the deaths of 200 men, women, and children, each as full of potential as the slain young men and women in VT will inevitably be quickly forgotten by the war-weary (ironic, as many are not actually experiencing war) reading public, while those of the 33 are mourned and questioned.

It's true that they were in school, what's supposed to be a sanctuary, a place no one imagined would turn into a killing field. But then, neither is a market, is it. No place ever should be expected to be a killing field, no place but battleground.

But that's just it. As more and more of us imbibe and assume the mentality of us against the world, Earth has become a war zone. A world which has lost control of itself and its children, which has no ethic to refer to, no moral code, cannot protect itself. To what sense of responsibility does one appeal to when deciding to sell an 18 year old a gun? To which god, if one believes in a god at all, does one look to for guidance? And if life is really all about winning, why should other people losing matter?

The fact is, not all of us have answers to that. And those who do more often than not disagree with each other. As societies and cultures interact and integrate, they are creating a world which doesn't want to be a single entity; and as such, we live in a world which will eventually be, if it isn't already, tearing itself apart.

Mary, Mother of God
Pray for us.

God bless all their souls.

So what's Val been up to lately?

2007-04-16T05:50:00.000+08:00

Mostly this...

But at some point also managed to fit in being Pocahontas,

partying,

picnic-ing on the backs,

partying,

having cream tea,

partying,

punting,

walking dogs on a beach!

arguing,

alton tower-ing

and a bit more partying.

But mostly, staring in quiet despair (kidding, mum :p) at things like this:

I love cambridge.

2007-03-31T23:51:00.001+08:00

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Doggone it

2007-03-24T18:09:00.000+08:00

You know you've reached new heights of missing your dogs when the sound of barking makes you tear.

Miss squeezing him.

Miss hugging him.

Miss nuzzling him.

The closest I got to a dog in aaaaages.

Sigh.

Oh, the pain

2007-03-11T12:50:00.000+08:00

Ok, so what does a girl do when she's having an essay crisis at 4.48am for an essay that's not really due till monday but that she wants done TODAY so she can go out tonight?

Click on the flashing banner on her hotmail page advertising a blogging festival on youth.sg.

I'm apalled. Honestly. I'm not going to link blogs here, because it isn't really the blogs that apall me. But let's just take a look at the descriptions of the entries BY the dear people at youth.sg, shall we?

*This entry is fantastic! What more can we say? There’s a very nifty self-produced video on ............. and there’s also a very nicely done graphic artwork on Singapore. I know we shouldn’t be biased, but this is probably the best entry we have received so far. Do vote for her if you agree with us too. (Val: You shouldn't be biased? You don't say.)

*blog is kawaii ne! There are cutesy hamster photos, lots of anime reviews and a pink blogskin. The only thing that doesn’t match is the Manchester United logowhich seems a tad too manly for a kawaii blog. Nevertheless, do vote for ...... if you share her interests.

*......... definition of being a youth in Singapore revolves around three items: food, self-image and air-con. His top motto in life, other than "Don't Worry, Be Happy", is "Live to Eat, not Eat to Live". He is also not afraid of posting photos of his belly on his blog - do check his belly out.

I didn't expect much, really. But I didn't expect that, either. Is this truly the reflection of Singaporean youth? No. Therefore, should I be at all bothered by it? Probably not. But. Argh. ARGH. My sister's a 17 year old, I've been in groups with kids ranging from 13 to 20, I taught 16 and 17 year olds for 9 months. And particularly with the last group, I ask myself, why do they write like that? Not just in style and spelling, but in general content. And herrre we have it. Shallowness glorified.

It's hard to claim I'm not making a value judgement on the kids writing these blogs. I'm not, really. What's really rubbing me the wrong way is how they're touted as...'kawaii ne!' etc. Cute is good. Patriotism is good. Food is good. And, uh, belly is good. But, as contestants for a blogging competition? Is there no one else?

There probably isn't, in all fairness. A festival like that probably has a target audience which would appreciate their selection of blogs. It's slightly worrying what a large audience that seems to be though.

I am now going to put my peeves about the state of blogging aside. What really REALLY gets to me, is how, for some reason, we as a country deride any semblance of intelligent thought.

Hear me out here.

Other than the teachers who pull out hairs reading and marking essays, think of FIVE people you are directly connected to (parents, friends, relatives) who actively encourage you to THINK. Is it not easier to think of an instance when someone said, 'eh, why so cheem', indicating a desired change of conversational topic? (I apologise for the pretentious language. I'm trying to write an essay and can't seem to break out of essaywritingmode.)

The refusal of 'science' students (yes, I'm generalising.) to have anything to do with 'arts' subjects and vice versa (until forced, like they are now currently. I'm sure some enjoy it. I'm also sure most are delighted with another reason to whine.)

A widespread aversion to reading. Why don't we read more? We're highly literate, in various languages. Why, why, why do we not READ?

I admit, I'm probably so annoyed because it is now 5.10am and I am less than a third through my essay. I also concede that there ARE people who have always been encouraged to think, love learning be it science OR arts and are avid readers. Quite a lot of people, probably.

Whyyyyy then, do representations of our youth almost always say otherwise?

Okay Val. Drink your coffee and stop bitching.
Sigh.

2007-02-19T14:27:00.000+08:00

The end-result (as in, the last line of a conclusion) of a coke(yes, the drink)-induced all-nighter, for an essay on Shakespeare and justice:

'and so while one sympathises with Johnson’s ‘indignation’ which he projects to every reader of Measure for Measure, for example , it is with both resignation to the harshness of reality and admiration of Shakespeare’s dogged pursuit of the portrayal of it that one must politely inform Johnson that he has no choice but to deal with it. '

I rock.

And for the upcoming season...

2007-02-19T02:31:00.000+08:00

Is this a Fast, to keep
The Larder lean?
And clan
From fat of Veals and Sheep?

Is it to quit the dist
Of Flesh, yet still
To fill
The platter high with Fish?

Is it to fast an hour
Or rag'd to go,
Or show
A downcast look, and sour?

No; 'tis a Fast, to dole
Thy sheaf of wheat
And meat
Unto the hungry soul.

It is to fast from strife,
From old debate
And hate;
To circumcise thy life.

To show a heart grief-rent;
To starve thy sin,
Not bin;
And that's to keep thy Lent.

(Robert Herrick, 1591 - 1674)

Not a gem of a poem, but timely.

Perspectives

2007-02-18T06:30:00.000+08:00

So I'm surfing facebook, clicking on random links. And come across this page: www.truthforyouth.com in an anti-Christian union facebook group. The group members range from being outraged at the way non-christians are portrayed to superior about their enlightenment, as proven by the contents of the website.

And I can't say I blame them. Why do so many christian 'outreach' programmes and websites insist on portraying non-christians as stupid or just plain bad? As well-intentioned as it may be (how that's well-intentioned I leave up to your conjecture), that's just not true. Bad things don't only happen to bad people. More fundamentally, who are we to judge who are bad people? Christians aren't the only ones who know better than to do drugs/binge-drink (not that all of them don't) - non-Christians, religious or not, are perfectly capable of having strong beliefs and personal morals. And none have a monopoly on reason, logic or intelligence.

It's surprisingly hard to be Christian here. Not because people make it difficult, just because it's so much easier to not be. And when I say 'be' I mean, act like, profess, actually believe. When in a situation does walking away constitute testifying...and when does walking away put up a barrier which will impede future wall-breaking conversation? Does one shun all potentially sinful situations because of that potential sinfulness, when not being there means removing one's self from friends who do occasionally concede to at least hear Christianity out?

I guess it's about time I realised decisions aren't going to be clear cut anymore. It's going to be nigh impossible to completely opt out of certain situations, unless I'm willing to sacrifice everything that comes with it. The line between what's wrong and what's not is a fine one - and one that's permeable, at that.

What's interesting though is how it's made me a lot more aware of Christianity as an identity. And how Christians really are going to be looked at differently, and, if they're going to be true to what they profess, going to have to behave differently.

Why did I never feel this before? Possibly because Singapore is, ultimately, pretty religious. We all had different religions, yeah, but we HAD religions. There is a mind-boggling number of atheists and agnostics here. And Christians, Muslims, Jains and people of other religions who, to put it bluntly, don't actually believe. And while people are rarely actively hostile, Christians tend to be the butt of many jokes (for reasons usually entirely, unfortunately, explainable). Thus far I've only been able to figure out two reactions, of which I generally prefer the latter:
1. Take offence, walk away (and burn all bridges)
2. Accept the humor, glare a little, hope a chance comes to talk slightly less flippantly about it.
Still not very satisfactory, though.

Back to where I started. It annoys me when non-christians are portrayed as, for lack of a better word (and time), inferior. Foremostly because it isn't true, secondly because it usually annoys them enough to negate whatever progress that MAY have been made.

I think the point I'm trying to make here is this: we need to stop rendering black and white what in actuality is various shades of grey.

With a lot less ease than it looks.

Hmm...

2007-02-08T17:10:00.000+08:00

It's SNOWIIIIIIIIING! Woot. :)

Free

2007-02-05T08:28:00.000+08:00

Corrine May's music is hauntingly, painfully beautiful.

So last night was an eye-opener, to how much I'm not the me I want to be anymore. Not that I didn't know before, just that it took memories of last night to jolt me out of the comfortable numb-ness I had settled into.

Today I started my first session as part of the 24/7 prayer movement. (www.24-7prayer.com), and it feels right. Like finally, things are moving His way. And I'm glad for it.

"You see bones. I see an army."

stupid.

2007-01-29T02:57:00.001+08:00

yup.

edit: maybe not.

Beginnings and Ends

2007-01-21T04:21:00.000+08:00

2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

May he turn 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
"Just a day" he said down to the flask in his fist,
"Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."
Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,
But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him. Maybe I'll just sing about it.

Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

There's a light at each end of this tunnel,
You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe.

Anna Nalick, Breathe (2am)

I'm good, y'all. And I hope you are too.

Just breathe.

It's gonna be a good week.

2007-01-05T00:34:00.000+08:00

Today, as it is, was brilliant. And so brilliant I wouldn't mind if it WERE the high point. Swimming, day with the parents (in a good mood), the band.

:)

muppet.

And THEN, this:

-=phantaSmagoria=- "come on you miner for truth and delusion, and shine!" says: (12:30:47 AM)
SHUDDUP I'M TURNING GAY.

He'll defend himself, I'm sure, and tell you it's out of context. But that is THE best line I've heard all...last decade.

Bring it on, 2007. With friends like mine, I'm gonna enjoy the ride.

The Books Warehouse Sale

2007-01-02T14:00:00.000+08:00

at the expo is by far THE best books sale I've been too. I'm now the thrilled and slightly high new owner of:

1. Kafka on the shore, by Haruki Murakami ($5)
2. The Scar, by China Mieville
3. Touching Earth, by Rani Manicka
4. The House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton (3 for $10)
5. Life of Pi, by Yann Martel ($5)
6. The Dream of Scipio, by Iain Pears ($5)
7. Getting Mother's Body, by Suzan-Lori Parks ($5)
8. The Last Samurai, by Helen DeWitt ($4)
9.The House of Blue Mangoes, by David Davidar ($5)
10. The Rice Mother, by Rani Manicka ($6)

which is, if you aren't a mathmo with instant calculation abilities, 10 books for $45. I am over the moon. This is better than my discovery of Tequila Sunrises. The place ITSELF (Expo Hall 4b) is heaven on earth. I was given half an hour, and couldn't get through more than 4 of the many many barrows of books. My dad's face when he came back to get me and saw the books I had was priceless :D Now I just need to convince him to let me ship them all up with me...

And finish reading Richard II. And Henry IV. And The Tempest. And Antony and Cleopatra. Perhaps it'd be a better idea if I put the new books away for a while. Sigh.

Whoop :p

Goodbye 06, Hellooooo 07

2007-01-01T18:12:00.000+08:00

One realises, as the years go by (gawd, I sound old), that it's a lot easier to realise that some things stay and some things were nice while they lasted, but are nicer in retrospect. Or even if they arent, may be. So I package the experiences of 06 - reliefteaching, amoeba, amplify, ymm, 2 of the best months of my life, and look forward to those of 07 - I Havn't The Faintest Clue.

And am terrified. But thrilled at the same time.

Happy New Year everyone. Pics will be up shortly (I hope, seeing that I won't be HERE, shortly), and I looooove you.

Jump!

2006-11-25T21:53:00.000+08:00

Because I have a 1055 page book to read by Monday and an essay to write on it by Tuesday, an audition to go for in an hour and the last show of Prometheus Bound in 7, I've decided now's the best time to put up (the good) photos of my first term. I'm hoping the coming week will produce much more, but for now:

Kay, Bhav and I before going to Soul Tree

Neha and I

Jon and I before the Great Court Run

Me, Debs and 2nd year Englishians, Matriculation Night

Darshan setting fireworks off outside our window on Diwali

Vidhi (yes she crashed), me and Nils on Halloween

Jan and I, Halloween. He had a cloak! And therefore was Legolas from LOTR.

Prometheus Bound...

After the show, 2nd night. That's jon on the right. He, Nils and Jan bully me all the time, sigh.

Right, that's all for now folks. This time next week I'll be in Heathrow, waiting for the flight home. See you soooooooooon :p

Content.

2006-11-17T23:32:00.000+08:00

When really, I should be fretting over an essay. But all's good.

I've somehow managed to schedule myself a stupendously busy last two weeks...rehearsals every night till Monday, the play runs from Tuesday to Saturday, Advent Carol Service (which I'm serving in - I get to wear a server's robe woohoo!) on Sunday, Christmas Dinner on Monday, performing Handel's Messiah with the Trinity Singers on Wednesday, Fisher House Christmas Dinner on Thursday, PACK BAGS on Friday, leave Saturday morning, reach home Sunday.

The term's really flown by...but I feel like I've done a lot too, which is always a nice feeling.

What I meant to blog about was the fact that it's raining. Again. In fact, it hasn't stopped since I woke up (8.30. Too Early.) and doesn't look like it's stopping anytime soon. It is the purrrfect weather for curling up with a mug of chocolate and reading FOR FUN. Not that reading anything isn't fun. Just something that doesn't require me to think every two sentences would be nice for a change. But nooo. Due to my crazy weekend, I need to start on my essay TODAY. The madness.

I think I'll take a shower first though. And make me the hot chocolate anyway. And maybe treat myself to some double chocolate fudge. Woot.

He for God only, she for God in him

Things I've figured out thus far.

2006-11-16T08:24:00.000+08:00

1. I'm still not really a clubbing person. In fact, I'm not a clubbing person at all.
2. I enjoy alcohol. And getting a bit high. I still don't ever want to get smashed.
3. No amount of rationalisation is going to make a fling make sense to me.
4. I'm not really very good at being alone. But that doesn't mean I won't not go clubbing since everyone else is/jump into a relationship which doesn't even feel like a real friendship.
5. People not being clear with motives, not making up their minds about things and acting differently at different times, in different places and with different people are not worth my time. Or emotions.
6. The nicest seeming guys sometimes turn out to be the biggest bastards.
7. If someone says he will do some thing and then doesn't, chances are he's going to repeat it again. Stop giving second chances.
8. I really, really like lit. I could read forever.
9. Homesickness never actually goes away.
10. Sticking to your principles is a lot harder when you're the only one who holds them. And never as fulfilling as they say it'll be. But in retrospect, (I hope), worth it.

Enthralled.

2006-11-15T01:02:00.000+08:00

What I love about this course is the actual amount of reading I'm able to do. And in DOING that reading, the absolutely fascinating things I'm able to discover. Today, it's St. Augustine's Confessions:

"But how can the future be diminished or absorbed when it does not yet exist? And how can the past increase when it no longer exists? It can only be that the mind, which regulates this process, performs three functions, those of expectation, attention, and memory. The future, which it expects, passes through the present, to which it attends, into the past, which it remembers. No one would deny that the future does not yet exist or that the past no longer exists. Yet in the mind there is both expectation of the future and remembrance of the past. Again, no one would deny that the present has no duration, since it exists only for the instant of its passage. Yet the mind's attention persists, and through it that which is to be passes towards the state in which it is to be no more. So it is not future time that is long, but a long future is a longexpectation of the future; and past time is not long, because it does not exist, but a long past is a long remembrance of the past."

Confessions, Chapter XI, Bk 28

'appenings.

2006-11-08T21:36:00.000+08:00

<ting>: so i heard best friend. am proud. really

gave me a thrill of joy more than any amount of cider, jd and coke, cognac or southern whiskey with lemon and lime ever could.

I love you toot :)

2006-11-08T08:50:00.000+08:00

2 minutes ago, I was 900 words through a 1500 word essay, and on a roll. Why then, you ask, are you blogging? WELL. It's because I have a sudden craving for fish and chips (which I have yet to have in jolly ol' England, surprise surprise). But not just any fish and chips. Nooo. My cravings are wont to avoid craving for anything remotely attainable. I want fish and chips from Swensons. An American restaurant no one here has heard of. And not any Swensons, either. I want, quite desperately, fish and chips from the Swensons in Changi Airport.

It's rather inconvenient. And muchly distracting.

Phooey.

Of ice IN my blood

2006-11-04T07:11:00.000+08:00

I love how one day we're all in t shirts with sweaters hung carelessly round our shoulders, and the next (literally, 24 hours later) everyone's wrapped up in triple layers, hands in gloves, necks muffled in (pretty pretty trinity) scarves and EAR MUFFS. Which I don't own, but are attractive anyway. Come to think of it, I don't own a trinity scarf either. 30 pounds is almost 90 sing dollars, damnit.

But it really IS getting colder, and to quote a nice, sweet comforting 2nd year: it doesnt get warm again till ohhh...APRIL. *sob. I hope it snows, just because if I have to endure this cold, I should get at least THAT much of a reward, shouldn't I? Am contemplating bringing out my red winter jacket, but it's RED, see, and immensely bulky. We'll see tomorrow. At some point life is going to have to take precedence over style. Before I turn blue would be a good point. And for those of you who think it can't be THAT cold, we get winds from SIBERIA. SIBERIA. S.I.B.E.R.I.A. I jest not.

Cold, let me tell you, is not conducive to productivity. Mainly because when one realises it is cold outside, one realises one would rather stay inside. And if outside is just outside one's covers, one then realises that one would much definitely prefer to be WITHIN one's covers, and promptly turns the alarm clock off, rolls over and goes back to sleep. One overslept by 3 hours today, which is a record, even for one. Even upon recognising that one had 20 minutes to be ready for lecture, it took one amazing amounts of will power to get OUT of bed, in full knowledge that one's toes were going to freeze (which they did). I've never looked forward to hot showers so much. And yes, daddy, if you're reading this, I said SHOWERS. There's nothing like being very very cold to persuade one that a very very warm shower would be a very very good idea. We've taken to hogging the showers, which is quite amusing really. And even when I HAVE gotten myself out of bed, and am curled up relatively warmly dressed in my tub chair (which is becoming quite the favourite position), my FINGERS are cold and I'm reduced to sitting on them till I get up enough will power (again) to make myself hot chocolate and warm my fingers thus. Which, naturally, makes it quite impossible to do other stuff with them. Other things being reading books, typing essays, and writing plans. Not good.

What IS good though, are my plans for the weekend. I've weasled myself out of an early morning run with Fiona (it's waaay too cold to run, I'm sorry. I'll stick to pilates in thermals, track pants and a sweater.), but have promised to go for breakfast for her in hall, which is really good. Cooked, HOT breakfast. I have cereal, otherwise. After which I'm gonna do work till 11, at which point I'm heading over to the chaplain's place to help set up her daughter's doll house. It's so PRETTY, and it's got everything...even cutlery and tiny flowers and stuff. Then MORE work, and then rag raids at 2. Then back to work until 7, when I'm meeting a whole bunch of people at Great Gate and we're going to the Midsummer Commons to watch the Guy Fawkes fireworks whoopeeee. And if we're lucky we might just be able to crash the free dinner the Christian Union is giving. Free food's always welcome. Sunday it's choir practice at 930, and Mass with the Papal Nuncio at 1115, after which it's work again till after dinner. THEN I'm going for a concert by the Dante Quartet, which promises to be a brilliant evening with pretty brilliant company. Whoop.

Right. Then it's monday, at which point I would (under normal circumstances) be having a full blown essay crisis. I've had 3, for 3 essays, and I don't intend for it to happen again because it is NOT FUN. Therefore, I will now take my leave, and attempt to finish reading the Duchess of Malfi AND The Spanish Tragedy tonight. Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeee :p

Oh and zid? I do NOT have an accent. Pfft.

Of ices and blood

2006-11-01T07:15:00.000+08:00

Just got back from doing front of house for the anti-racist play of the year, In the Blood. It was...alright. Not too impressive...KC does a better job, really, but I'm just spoilt I think :p Basically it's about this woman who has 5 children with 5 different men, and ends up killing her favourite in a fit of anger and desperation. Uplifting stuff.

I'm sitting here enjoying my first ice cream since I GOT here (hazlenut toffee, free from the foh stint) and wondering how I'm gonna get through this week. Not that it's that much busier than the rest...just that now the more standard things are more or less settled in, lots of non-standard things are popping up. Like concerts and poetry readings, plays and dance classes (which I'm as yet undecided about), dinners and punting, wine and truffles, jd and coke.

Heh.

So it's just about midterm, and I still feel like I just got here, but also that I've been here forever. The cruel thing about having really short terms is that we end up being here only 6 months a year, and that's hardly enough. Yet that also means I get 6 months back home (working, tis true, but I'll be home), or at least 6 months not studying.

And now for five people who've elbowed their way into my stream of consciousness. Vidhi darling, I would honestly have died this weekend without you. Toot, happy birthday and I'm so sorry the card isn't there yet. Ajyt, you've no idea how nice it was to hear your voice over the line. And I miss you too mr. 'uh. hah. yeah. there i said it.' Shane please don't kill anyone, even if they ARE being pussies, and Nessa baby i looove you.

Tis all rather truncated, as is this post, but things are beginning to fall into place.

"Consider the position of sex in Jacobean comedy." Joy oh joy.

A day in the life.

2006-10-28T07:34:00.000+08:00

Just so you can all laugh at me.

Woke up today at 7, turned the alarm clock off and slept till 9. Woke up in a panic and made it down IN TIME to meet the other englishians at the great gate for our lecture at 10. I was quite impressed with myself. Lectures were brilliant, as usual. We did Freud today in the Intro to 20th and 21st Century Lit Theory lecture, and the concept of England and Englishness in our Renaissance theme one. Then I head back for lunch in college.

The Plan was to work till 430, and then go punting (google it) with a bunch of the englishians. So we work, yes, then make our way to The Backs, where the punts are. Only to find that they've CLOSED it, because it LOOKED like it was going to rain. Pfft. So I go off to Deborah's room (I should really get down to uploading pictures, shouldn't I), and read till dinner. Which was...some fish thing. It being Friday.

And THEN I go back to my room to work again (I know, exhilarating.) till 9ish, when I go down to the college bar for a nice light drink. Light. Had 2. Was nice. And THEN fiona and I get convinced by these three silly boys, one from Trinity, one from Kings and one from Queens (these are all colleges in Cambridge, yes.) to go night punting. NIGHT PUNTING. So we did.

Which was fine, till silly boy from Trinity decides he wanted to punt. And only tells us after he's swapped with original punter (boy from Kings) that he's never done it before. So, naturally, at some point before Clares' bridge, he loses the punt pole. And we have to paddle with our HANDS to find it. Bear in mind, darlings, that it's FREEZING. And pitch black. Our HANDS. In unknown waters. We found it, amazingly enough. But were also very wet, because at some point the punt had tilted, and, again quite naturally, water had come in. So all our jeans were SOAKED. As you can imagine, it was cold. And wet. Did I mention cold?

Survived, though. And am now in my room, after a nice WARM bath, swaddled with a sweater and socks and a nice WARM mug of milk. I think I shall sleep early tonight. Going running tomorrow at 730 with Fiona. Should be fun.

The LAST time I went running here (day before yesterday) was NOT so fun, because stupid me agreed to go with jon and jon (yes, yes. pictures.). They tried to KILL me. Well no. Jon didn't. The other Jon did. Never again.

So yes. Sleep calls. My bed's looking deliciously WARM. And Vidhi's coming tomorrow, whoop! Halloween party tomorrow night as well. What should I go as...hmm.

Lord, how should I pray?

2006-10-21T05:26:00.000+08:00

Our Father, Who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be Thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done
on Earth, as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread, and
Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those
who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.

Amen.

Someone please teach him proper spelling.

2006-10-16T07:42:00.000+08:00

"In thee obseruation of quantitees of syllables, soom happlye wyl bee so stieflie tyed too thee ordinaunces of thee Latins, as what shal seeme too swarue from theyre maximes, they wyl not stick too skore vp for errours."

Help.

Bloody Greeks.

2006-10-14T22:45:00.000+08:00

Granted, this is Marlowe's take on the story. I'm much amused,and thus quite disturbed at myself.

Dido: Live, false Aeneas! Truest Dido dies;
Sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras. (So, so, it is my choice to go beneath the shades_

Throws herself into the flames.

Anna: O, help, Iarbas! Dido in these flames
Hath burnt herself! Ay me, unhappy me!

Iarbas: Cursed Iarbas, die to expiate
The grief that tires upon thine inward soul! -
Dido, I come to thee. - Ay me, Aeneas!

Kills himself.

Anna: What can my tears or cries prevail me now?
Dido is dead!
Iarbas slain, Iarbas my dear love!
O sweet Iarbas, Anna's sole delight!
What fatal Destiny envies me thus,
To see my sweet Iarbas slay himself?
But Anna now shall honour thee in death,
And mix her blood with thine. This shall I do,
That gods and men may pity this my death,
And rue our ends, senseless of life or breath:
Now, sweet Iarbas, stay! I come to thee.

Kills herself.

And the idiot Aeneas who caused this whole suicide orgy sails away to become the founder of Rome. Bah.

Hello, friend.

2006-10-04T21:09:00.000+08:00

Greetings from Trinity College, Cambridge. To those I promised to write to but havn't yet, I WILL, soon. I've only just about settled down and am slowly getting into the rhythm of things. (Things being wake up, bathe, make breakfast, convince self to go out of warm room, do whatever, lunch, try as much as possible to go back to warm room in between doing things that must be done, figuring out how to do dinner if hall is closed and, for the last couple of nights, go for fresher social stuff. Which is as detailed as I'm going to be about my after-dinner activities. No, I havn't touched alcohol, and no, that hasn't caused any detriment to my social life. Am quite pleasantly surprised really.)

Let's start from the very beginning shall we? (A very good place to start. When you read you begin with etc.) Arrived in Cambridge Tuesday morning...slept most of the flight, and much of the coach ride too. Stayed in a b&b in milton for 2 nights, and moved in on thursday. My room's tiny, but it's cosy. It's kind of like a small rectangular box. My bed's on the length, and it just about reaches the door, which is centimeters from the end of the lenght, and my bed's just right for me. Anyone taller than 1.65m would probably have cold toes in the morning. Either that or a cramp in their back. So that's an illustration of the length. It's got white sheets, with a maroon duvet. Looks kinda like my bed at home, so I was comfortable there almost immediately. Next to my bed is a little table with a lamp on it, and next to THAT is a bookcase, which slowly but surely will be filled with books I'm discovering :) So that covers the breadth. Parallel to my bed is my writing desk, and a nice tub chair...kinda like a sofa, but for one person. There's a smaller desk next to it, that's where I usually put the mac when I'm working on it, cuz it's next to the window and I get some nice sunlight. So from where I'm sitting: behind me's the wardrobe, and next to that's a cupboard containing a sink, and shelves where I've put detergent and stuff. Oh and between the cupboard and wardrobe is a fridge and a couple of shelves. I now have expired milk and stale bread in each, respectively. Must remember to eat/drink things before they go bad.

There are 6 people on my corridor, 3 on each side...3 girls and 3 boys, but I hardly ever see one of the girls. It's pretty cool, we've had corridor dinners (one of which was side-splittingly disastrous) and stuff. It's been social after social since I arrived, so I do know quite a few people by name, and quite a few more by face. International freshers' week was brilliant, and it's probably the reason why I'm as comfortable here as I am. And whoever said the British weren't friendly probably never attended a uni freshers' week, cuz everyone's trying to make friends (being alone and feeling lost gives one great incentive to do so) and as such are almost unfailingly friendly. Almost. Of course, it helps when there's alcohol around, and it's usually pretty amusing, but even when sober...

Okay, so where things to do with the reason why I'm here (which is to study, yes) are concerned, I met my director of studies, also known as a DOS today. And lectures start friday, whoopeee. No I'm serious. After a week of fresher social stuff, it's stabilizing to actually have real work to do. And real work I do have, since I need to read the Iliad by Monday. Woot. Oh and analyse some pc stuff too. Yay lit.

Signed up for a thousand and one societies, but will probably end up just going for the Amateur Dramatic Club and Fisher Society, which is the Catholic society here. In fact auditions for plays start this sat, so things are happening pretty fast.

Still need to read Paradise Lost. Eek.

Alright, this part is for those of you who came to send me off at the airport on Monday. You guys have no idea how much it meant to me. Everytime I'm minutely down, I look at the pictures we took and cheer up. So for your viewing pleasure:

Gosh I've put on weight, havn't I. Oh well. Have lost some since I arrived. Must be all the walking I'm doing...Cambridge is a lot bigger than it sounds. For example. last night after a party at the Soul Tree Club we decided to walk a friend back to Newnham College despite warnings of its distance, because our adrenaline-pumped selves didn't think far would be QUITE that far. Feet havn't quite forgiven me yet. And my body clock hates me. Regardless of the time I actually fall asleep, it WILL wake me up at 7am. Sharp. And there's only so much lying in bed hoping to fall back asleep one can do before one gives up and rolls out of bed to bathe. Sigh.

I'm doing great you guys, so don't worry. I have rough days (sorry zid), but in general, it's a brilliant experience. And I'll live. And learn.

With love, from Cambridge.

Bop-shoo-bop-ba-bop-bop-shoo-wop

2006-09-21T14:56:00.000+08:00

Marking is oooooooover. Yes I know it's my fault it took so long. But over it is, and that's the point. On my itunes radio search I found a Beatles radio station

And it's making me very happy :)

Right. So today I will clear up my study room, and actually officially pack my bags. (So that I can reclaim my paternally confiscated nano and books. I can't believe he did that. Pfft.)

Things I still need to do: Get my matriculation outfit, buy supply of stationary, transfer songs to my ipod, get photos of people I want photos of (which is harder than it sounds when you have camera-phobic bozos as people you want photos of), get all the letters and certificates and receipts I should get cleared cleared. And more. Which as of now I can't remember. Woot.

Heeeyyyy Juuuuuude

Post #200

2006-09-15T18:02:00.000+08:00

"Welcome to unteenagedom". So says Alicia of the "argh noooo it's Val nooo go away" fame. Kinda miss 4/7, now that I think about it, heh.

Anyway. Aaron you FORGOT. I'm hurt, distraught, destroyed,miffed, shattered, etc.

Here's how my marking stands: I've finished ALL comprehensions, AQs and journal entries. I've only got 2 classes of essays left to mark. I'm very proud of myself. I still want that snow patrol cd.

I've only got 10 days left. That's not much time now,is it? Here's how I've spent my week. On monday I spent a beautiful beautiful day with tootsie. We explored arab street! And discovered this quaint little punk record store (haha quaint little punk). And had a flaming platter in Manhatten Fish Market, which I'll be bringing you to nessa. Argh why is there no end key on the mac. It's quite impossible to describe days out with toot. Things just happen and we're just there and it's just perfect. Haha yes babe actually we do sound like a couple when talking about this huh haha. I loooooooove you.

Tuesday I had lunch with aaron. Yes aaron, the ingrate who has ONCE AGAIN forgotten my birthday. How hard is it to remember you tell me? (Yes, you yazid.) I like Essential Brew. Everybody, if at a loss for new,reasonable place to eat in Holland V, go to Essential Brew. Oh and their cheesecakes are to DIE for. The clown has me hooked on Terry Pratchett. Bad timing, seeing as I've yet to start on any book in my reading list. Hoho ohh I'm screwed.

Then it was meeting family friends tuesday night, my godpa on wednesday, Mime wednesday night and Forbidden City as a treat for my birthday.

FORBIDDEN CITY.
BLOODY AWESOME.

Cute actors too hehe I'm keeping the programme.

Today? Today was spent marking what I hadn't finished marking intermittently on buses and trains in the last 2 weeks, and meeting Uncle Philip and Aunty Jenny, who've a daughter studying hospitality in Switzerland. I think it calmed my mum down a little. I hope. After that...marking again. Gonna have to leave to meet Hafiz and Dhana soon though.

Edit at 11.34pm: Hafiz and Dhana and Ivan and Alex and Royston and Yazid. Much fun :)

Eek chasing cars thankyoushanethankyoushane

You know, I havn't quite dealt with the fact that I'm leaving yet. I mean, I've been meeting people everyday, and will be till the day I leave. The time in between I'm marking (yes I know my fault I'm slow sighhh.) and running mini errands. I havn't packed, havn't compiled an address book. Havn't written notes I wanted to write, havn't bought books I need to buy. Don't have a matriculation outfit, havn't planned what I want to bring for my room. Havn't taken pictures, don't have many pictures. Havn't opened my nano or imported songs into my mac. Don't have accomodation for the first day I'm there since Trinity'll only be ready on the 27th. (That's a valid panicNOW point right there.) I'm not prepared. Mentally or physically or emotionally. There's this dull throbbing fear, in combat with a bright clear 'don't WORRY you'll be FINE'. Which is beginning to sound brightly, clearly brittle. My brain hasn't quite come to terms with the fact that, aside from the seniors and fellow freshers I've met at various cumsa things in the last couple of weeks, and that's not many and I'm bad at names/faces (most people are bad at names OR faces. I'm bad at BOTH.) I'll know no one there. Which is fine, really. I don't usually have too hard a time making friends. But. It's still scary. Scare stories of unfriendly british kids don't help either. OHwell I suppose it's not much good worrying. Life rockz et al.

Right. That's about it then. Not vaguely poetic, this second centurial post. But then I'm not feeling vaguely poetic, just blog-ish. I shall go now. Toodeloo.

She's a must to avoid, a complete impossibility. ~The Herman's Hermits

2006-09-10T21:42:00.000+08:00

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"The temptation to swear has never been so great. Amazing isn't it. Cut me off from online, virtual existence, and I wanna curse msn to extinction. Which would be cutting off my nose to spite my face, because then I'll never get back on msn. Bloody fish head curry mutton drain sweeper foooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooosh. I know I'm plagiarizing, za. Sorry. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Growl."
(Me, September last year)

Ditto.

argh.

Zippedeedoodahhhh

2006-09-08T16:07:00.000+08:00

(no, shane, i did not.)

am blogging on my pretty new white macbook, yippeeee.

A couple of things irk me about it though. The lack of 'home' and 'end' keys, for one, and the glaring absence of the 'delete' key. My tendency to constantly rephrase things I type makes it very annoying to have to rely on the paltry arrow keys to move around in my document.

Tried safari for a couple of days, and decided I still prefer Firefox. Tabs are addictive.

I need to find those mac stickies. Or is someone pulling my leg again?

Time flies, doesn't it. It's the 9th tomorrow, and I'm spending most of it at Sentosa. Am struggling to finish marking the kids' scripts in time. I really do feel bad, I know how annoying it is to have done essays and not get them back quickly. No excuses, will finish it. *nods. (And that snow patrol cd bribe is working too, heh.)

I realised that I spent most of my life just experiencing, and am only now able to synthesize and make sense of 'life', in the general sense of the word. I remember reading a poem sometime last year that expressed it perfectly. Something about a girl and water...I think it was Plath. Or maybe not. Gahhhh it's bugging me.

Not really in a blogging mood...going to go finish off a class of essays now. whoop. sigh.

Free Fallin'

2006-09-06T11:50:00.000+08:00

She’s a good girl,loves her mamma, loves je -sus, and america

too.
She’s a good girl, crazy ‘bout elvis, loves horses,
and her boyfriend too.
And it's a long day, livin’ in
reseda, there’s a freeway, runnin’ thru the yard
And i’m a
bad boy, ‘cause i don’t even miss her, i’m a bad boy, for
breaking her heart
And i'm free, free falling.
Yeah
i'm free, free falling.
And all the vampires
walkin' through the valley move west down ventura
Boulevard.
And all the bad boys are standin' in the
shadows, and the good girls
Are home with broken hearts.

I wanna glide down over mulholland i wanna write her
name in the sky.
I'm gonna free fall out into
nothin', gonna leave this world for a while.

19 days to go Val.

September's Child

2006-09-04T13:34:00.000+08:00

September's skies are sapphire hue;
Blue gentians star the woods at morn
Near crystal pools in woodland aisles -
In this bright month a Queen was born.

No silver fanfare filled the air
As angel wings flashed round the child;
No crown was placed upon her head,
But at her halo, Heaven smiled.

October's trees wear rosaries
Of gold and scarlet, green and brown,
And as the west wind fingers them
The Ave-leaves drift slowly down.

May raises high her blossom-shrines
Where bird-choirs sing their wood-notes wild,
But both these months pay homage to
A blue-gowned Queen - September's child.

Sr. Maryanna
Robert, Cyril. Mary Immaculate: God's Mother and Mine. Poughkeepsie, NY: Marist Press, 1946.

So September's here, and along with it a myriad of emotions. Keep me, dear Mother, in your care.

2006-08-30T12:37:00.000+08:00

You see, the problem with choice, in my case, is that I'm not very good at choosing. I feel bad for inanimate objects.

So here are my options.

Mark all essays first.
Mark all compres first.
Mark one batch of essays alternated with one batch of compres.

And then there's which batch should I start with. Seeing as I must MUST return it to the kids by (eek.) tomorrow.

2006-08-28T17:11:00.001+08:00

How many dogs does it take to change a lightbulb?

Golden Retriever: The sun is shining, the day is young, we've got our whole lives ahead of us, and you're inside worrying about a stupid burned out bulb?

Border Collie: Just one. And then I'll replace any wiring that's not up to code.

Dachshund: You know I can't reach that stupid lamp!

Rottweiler: Make me.

Boxer: Who cares? I can still play with my squeaky toys in the dark.

Lab: Oh, me, me!!!!! Pleeeeeeeeeze let me change the light bulb! Can I? Can I? Huh? Huh? Huh? Can I? Pleeeeeeeeeze, please, please, please!

German Shepherd: I'll change it as soon as I've led these people from the dark, check to make sure I haven't missed any, and make just one more perimeter patrol to see that no one has tried to take advantage of the situation.

Jack Russell Terrier: I'll just pop it in while I'm bouncing off the walls and furniture.

Old English Sheep Dog: Light bulb? I'm sorry, but I don't see a light bulb?

Cocker Spaniel: Why change it? I can still pee on the carpet in the dark.

Chihuahua: Yo quiero Taco Bulb.

Pointer: I see it, there it is, there it is, right there ...

Greyhound: It isn't moving. Who cares?

Australian Shepherd: First, I'll put all the light bulbs in a little circle ...

Poodle: I'll just blow in the Border Collie's ear and he'll do it. By the time he finishes rewiring the house, my nails will be dry.

The Cat's Answer: "Dogs do not change light bulbs. People change light bulbs. So, the real question is: How long will it be before I can expect some light, some dinner, and a massage?"

Teehee.

Ok back to marking.

So I have a dream.

2006-08-27T15:13:00.000+08:00

And in this dream we're actually doing something. Not talking about it, or wishing we were, or thinking about it, but doing something. And not on our own, subject to mood swings, bad judgement or lack of commitment, but with a mentor. A director who knows what he's talking about, and wants to give us that knowledge too.

We choose songs because they add to the Mass, not take away from. We play and sing to add to worship, not distract from. We worship.

We aren't just singing and playing. We are moving and changing. There's more to this Mass than a different type of songs. There is continuity, we look forward to the next.

We don't need to be avant-garde. Or to impress anyone. We serve in humility, and in the knowledge of Christ's Church's teachings.

We are spontaneous. Hierachy and its redtape exists only as much as we allow it to. We work organically, each person at least aware of the other. But we maintain a sense of awe, and the sacredness of the Mass is not compromised.

We aren't just about the music. We learn about our Faith. We learn about each other. We form a Christian community, where Christian is emphasised. We don't make fun of differences or weaknesses, or insist on conformity. Healthy relationships flourish.

We come from all over, all the Parishes. We are small, mobile and focused. We have a mission, and spread it. We are flexible, because our raison d'etre is the mission, not a person. Leaders are nurtured and given a chance. We keep our eyes on Christ.

We want to inflame, and ignite. We want to live the Truth. We want others to say, "Look at how they love each other". We want to be witnesses, just by being.

~

In exactly a month's time, it'll be the first day of Trinity's International Freshers' Week. And for the next three years, there won't be the permanancy common sense tells me is necessary to make dreams become reality. But almost nothing that's happened in my spiritual life thus far is common sense, and so I hold on to the hope that that isn't a mere dream.

Thus breaks the 3 month long spell of parched, starved, indifferent spirituality.

For as long as I shall live, I will testify to Love.

Sugar we're going down swingin'

2006-08-25T00:22:00.000+08:00

Insightful, revolutionary conclusion of the day: Kissing is Therapeutic.

In other news:

I am officially panicked, because I've not read ANYTHING on anyone's english booklist. In fact, I havn't read anything, period, in the last 8 months.

I've got 4 days left of actual teaching. I forsee missing this, a lot.

I need more than 24 hours in a day, and more than 7 days in a week. Although, knowing me, that's still not going to be enough.

It's all about me, innit.

Edit: Do you think the kids might accept 'my dog ate your homework'? Sigh.

Finally!

2006-08-23T15:31:00.000+08:00

"You have now been allocated to a Tutor who will be writing to you shortly.

Trinity College Admissions"

Woooooot I'm going they love me they didn't forget me I wasn't a horrible administrative mistake!

Ohhhhh gawd I havn't even finished Chaucer, don't own Paradise Lost, havn't touched Shakespear in three quarters of a year, and havn't finished a book (ANY book) from cover to cover since...I don't remember when!

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Procrastinating (again)

2006-08-21T22:13:00.000+08:00

Derek: You alright?
Meredith: I have a feeling.
Derek: I get those.
Meredith: Yeah?
Derek: Yeah.
Meredith: And?
Derek: If you wait long enough it passes.
Meredith: You promise?
Derek: I promise.

I love Gray's Anatomy.

On that point though, I've been getting 'feelings' lately. Poor shaun and shane can attest to that :p I think it's the realisation that:

1. I've got just over a month till I leave, and I havn't quite recognised the reality of that.

2. 2 weeks till the end of gp@tj. Mixed feelings about that...relieved that I survived, but sad about leaving. I learned helluva lot.

3. I'm STILL boy-less.

Depressing stuff, really.

But life rockz. Honest to goodness it does.

I want a letter from caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam.

Bums, the lot of you.

2006-08-20T11:11:00.000+08:00

At 10.30 am today, (bear in mind, please, that 10.30 is MORE than past half-morningness) I called EIGHT people, all (except one, who's phone, annoyingly enough, is always on silent in the mornings and therefore claims inculpability for his non-response) of whom brusquely and gruffly turned down a lunch date with yours truly, because they loved their BED more.

*sulk.

Edit: I lurrrrrrrrrrrve toot and she loves me toooooooooooooooooooo. Yay. I'm gonna go change now. Bwaha.

Here we go.

2006-08-17T16:45:00.000+08:00

"Men can never get pregnant like women."

You don't say.

Reality

2006-08-14T08:23:00.000+08:00

With a dozen roses.

Relativity

2006-08-14T08:10:00.000+08:00

The most romantic thing anyone could do for me right now, is to buy a box of tissue and put it on my desk.

Hungover

2006-08-07T10:02:00.000+08:00

No I havn't been drinking, but this is probably how it feels like. My brain feels like cotton wool, I've got a throbbing pain under my right eye, everything's a little hazy and all I want to do is put my head back down and sleep.

Which I can't, because previously-mentioned-bald-notbadatflirting colleague will throw a cushion at me. Again.

And no Shane, there's nothing I'm smoking you could possibly have.

Miffed at a class which bargains for a week's extension of a deadline and then ignores it.

I love National Day, for more than the normal patriotic (I am, ok) reasons this time round. Half day tomorrow, public holiday on wednesday, and bliss! School holiday on Thursday. (Hehe. Yes Shaun you may be almost midweek, but there's no way you can beat a 2seperatedby3holidaysworkingdayweek.)

Gahhhh my head hurts. Sleeping at 3am was probably not very intelligent. And asmuchas I think I wouldnt have been able to sleep earlier, I probably would've, if I had lied down. But I guess everyone needs some brooding time. Now that I've discovered the reason for the brooding (and anxietyattacks) things have taken a (psychological) upturn.

There are too many parenthesis(es? parentheses?) in this entry.

OH but I did ONE productive thing during the weekend. I catalogued ALL the books I owned, and checked if I had read all of them. I had, and also discovered that a lot of books I have read I didn't own. And most of my book-reading happened in KC, less due to the literary culture there than to the fact that I just couldn't do any more significant reading after. For FOUR YEARS. And here I am, off to do an English degree in Cam. And I havn't read anything particularly impressive since I was SIXTEEN. This would normally be the point in the entry where I vow to go home and finish the Wife of Bath, or start on Paradise Lost (which I was supposed to buy but didn't), but my realism (yes, it does show up now and then) tells me with the kind of consciousness I'm currently in possession off, read:barelyinpossession, that would hardly be possible, let alone plausible.

And as such, there are a few things left to say, before I go back to doing what I'm supposed to be doing.

Toot: Next month, that fish place, ok?
Vid: You ARE decent you little idiot. MORE than decent. If you aren't decent where does that leave ME?
Shane: 3 days. Starbucks.
Shaun: I've got 2 days of work this week lalalaalalalalalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Jinx: let's go out. soon. with libbo.
sy: tomorrowwwwwwwwww. and i love you too.
Veera: After much consideration, I've come to the candid conclusion (oooh alliteration) that it is NOT my fault. *scowl.
Irwin: there you go. mentioned by name.
Marko: Cookieeeeeeeeeeee.
Aaron: I demand to know why I'm not in your will. I put up with you for FOUR YEARS, and I'm not in your will. I am HURT. DISTRAUGHT. DAMAGED BEYOND REPAIR. DESTROYED. SHATTERED. ETC. And thus you're treating come Tuesday.
Ajyt: Bahhh floorball. Scowl. You get to treat me too then.

Umm. I don't think anyone else reads this blog. Which is quite sad. But there we go. C'est la vie. Nowww to marking.

So you sailed away into a grey sky morning

2006-08-05T20:07:00.000+08:00

Sometimes the treacherous heart is yours. When you're idling, just sitting, waiting. And then a sudden rush of fear, out of nowhere, for absolutely no reason. Paranoia, I told the kids, is an unreasonable fear. But unreasonable is not the same as having no reason. Not exactly. Having no reason doesn't mean having no basis. There is a basis...a possible reason for the fear. But it's all what if. "I ask myself what if, consider the consequences, decide whether they're worth it, then never look back." So I say.

And in the train, an overpowering sense of alone-ness. A capsule I'm in the middle of. A bubble. Ignored, ignoring. Watching, watched. Unnecessary. Irrelevant. Just another curiosity.

Sitting in a darkened room, watching 3 girls bring to life what's in their minds, I wonder why I gave it up. Without more than a second thought. Without a fight. Like I did dance. And ballet. Even music, to a point. More of my regrets are not of giving things up, but of never even fighting for them.

Yet what point, this fighting. The reason for giving up sounds reasonable. Sensible. Pragmatic. The Best Thing At This Point. A solution. "I'm only sensible cuz I'm scared." Of making the Wrong Decision. Of being maverick. Of being a disappointment, even.

That hasn't stopped it, though, has it? Wrong Decisions are still made. Accusations of rebellion still thrown. And many times, I know, a disappointment.

But what point this, fighting.

"Why wait for true love," you say. "Nobody else waits. Why lose out?" And again, "Why think about all that? Why don't you just do what you feel like, and let people say what they want to?" This, when I tell you there are people I could fall truly madly deeply crazily in love with, only, I won't. Because. And I answer, I don't know. And you say, "You're gonna end up an old maid", and I laugh, but I fear too. Because I want, no, need, to love.

So 'Bright Lights' plays. And I remember 3 bands. One, the first time I ever played it. Heard and practiced two hours before the gig. Two, an ad lib thing, on a friend's stage. Three, with a band I can't imagine living without. Except that this month I will. So that next month, at least once, I'll be living within.

Ever noticed how, when you're in a certain kind of mood, everything is touched with a certain tinge of something? How there's this poignancy in words, rawness in songs, stillness in objects, reticence in self.

Baby baby baby
when all your love is gone
who will save me
from all i'm up against in this world

ben and jerrys

2006-08-01T16:14:00.000+08:00

or lime sorbet. or vanilla ice cream or cheesecake. maybe a blueberry muffin. i might settle for banana though. cookies? COOKIE DOUGH. brownies. or cupcakes!

soya bean?

chin chow?

it's no fun when nobody's entertaining your cravings. *sulk.

Of hellos, goodbyes and seeyousoons

2006-08-01T10:26:00.000+08:00

There've been more than I can count this year, and more to come. New places, new faces, new phases. It's funny how every hello is corollory with a goodbye, even if you don't know it yet. Every new friend marking a shift in the arrangement of the existing circle of friends, so that some are pushed back, some forward, and some just slightly to the side. All of us jostling (some less subtly than others "i want lunch.") for time and attention and love. The teasing that holds a faint hint of sullen accusation "yeah yeah, you're either at a practice or at a gig", and the accusations outright "you always say soon". And the realisation that, damn, it's august.

So here's how the rest of the month reads. This week I give back essays. Next week I give back compres. The week after that I give back another batch of essays, and the week after that their last batch of compres for the term. In between I meet the best friend (tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow!), alice and totsy, vid and the boys, aaron and ps, hopefully mp10, go for kids' carn, go for 2 freshers' parties, go for confluence 2006, go for class95's movies at the padang, go to zazu's sister's wedding, write a play AND finish all the chaucer I can.

Weeks whiz by.

And I've mastered the art of procrastinating with minimum guilt.

Which is baaaaaaad.

This month I WILL read "The Confessions of Max Tivoli". Because I've fallen in love with the first line: "We are each the love of someone's life."

Isn't that amazing. Think about it. That statement doesn't pre-require ANYTHING. It doesn't require us to love that someone back, or even to know who the someone is. It doesn't even require that someone to know it. It just says what it means. We are each the love of someone's life. Each of us. The love of a life. Yours, maybe, or mine. We may never find out who's. But it doesn't matter, because we are, regardless. It's a beautiful thing to hear.

you're the love of someone's life

2006-07-26T22:41:00.000+08:00

I feel like jell-o.

Eek.

*sob.

2006-07-26T18:10:00.000+08:00

Random stranger: "Hey, you look familiar. Do I know you?"

Me: "Um, no, I don't think so."

Random stranger: "Oh. Oh well. I knew I was having a bad day."

'Twas mildly amusing, and alright, I admit, a tad flattering too. Haha so cassanovas don't ALL ignore me. (And here I put in the long-bugged-for mention of a particular currently bald colleague who's not bad at flirting himself. Heh.)

I'm having one of those days where you don't feel like doing anything at all, which is bad cuz I promised one of my classes they'll get their essays back tomorrow. And I'm supposed to fax Cambridge the accomodation form they say they havn't recieved (!). AND figure out a couple of songs for Friday. And actually get myself round to moving past the Wife of Bath. And finish setting the vocab quiz for the kids.

See it's so bad even looking at that list doesn't work.

The tinkling opening lines of O Praise Him are playing on my wmp. The amoeba lite band (har har) is missing a 4th musician, sigh. Bass drums and keys are fine, but there are some things we just can't do. SB why can't you join us online and in real time why why whyyy. Stomp! *grinz.

Toot you have no idea how much I miss you. Haha.

She listens like spring and she talks like june

And the beat goes on

2006-07-24T23:01:00.000+08:00

Just two more pictures, I promise.

Rockstar/crooner/stealerofjcgirls'hearts Rahmat

The Vice-Presidents. We get cuter every year I tell ye.

It's almost August. July just flew by. Got dmy visa done today, and it'll be ready for collection by Thurs. I PASSED MY DRIVING!!! With a mere 12 points. *grinz. Got the bags I'll be bringing with me. Beginning to seriously look for a bargain for a MacBook. Getting nervous and slightly peeved with myself for not settling down and really reading the Chaucer books I've got in my cupboard. And being antsy about not having my reading list/any other sort of news from Cam yet.

Reading blogs of kids who've already left or whose departures are more impending than mine, I wonder how it's really gonna be like.

Nothing earth shattering to say today. Other than I wish they'd stop fighting. They encompassing everybody. If we can't bring ourselves to love, can't we at least bring ourselves to let live?

unmasked.untarnished.

2006-07-16T21:15:00.000+08:00

You Are Rowlf the Dog

Mellow and serious, you enjoy time alone cultivating your talents.
You're a cool dog, and you always present a relaxed vibe.
A talented pianist, you can play almost anything - especially songs by Beethoven.
"My bark is worse than my bite, and my piano playing beats 'em both."

The Muppet Personality Test

Haha. Accurate-ish.

Thank you all for coming for council day, those who came for council day. I had a blast :)

And I like my costume:

That's me in the costume shop (Masquerade, on Bali Lane), with a bit of Tuan in a pirate costume. Oh what the heck. I'll give the guy a break:

Although he didn't come on the day itself. Now for the day itself:

Before the event...the reception girls. Wan Ni, child of Chucky (without the dagger) masquerading as a TASC 15 year old, Jing the wannabe Indian dancer, Ai Ling the Jap school girl, Hafi the gypsy and me the princess :p

The emcees. Yazid has pink FRILLS.

The Princess, The Gentleman and The Gypsy

The 27th, Hosts of Unmasked, the Masquerade. Scary Vampire lady is Zub (she kept appearing in people's photos). 60s chick is Han Nee.

Demo-ing the catwalk

The 30th's mass dance showcase. Brilliantly done.

mp10's surprise. Thanks guys, you gave the night extra magic :)

And it ended on a high. Sing along with Rahmat (No, that's still Yazid, pretending to be useful. Rahmat's on the other side of the cameraman).

And the reason is you.

Here's to the nights we felt alive

2006-07-13T08:10:00.000+08:00

It was amazing. I reached there early, at 6, and walked into the playden, and it was AMAZING. It's kind of like a black box, but bigger - David Marshall's old rooms converted into a theatre which seats 145. The seats are in a U, so that the performers on stage, or rather, the floor, are surrounded on three sides. And the acoustics in there are brilliant.

Then the main show walked in. Three of the most friendly, gregarious and supportive-for-someone-who's-never-done-this-before-and-beginning-to-wonder-what-she-had-gotten-herself-into people I've ever met. They explained what it was they normally do, demonstrated, off the cuff, what the items were like, let me try some improv stuff with them, told me I'll be fine, and then it was time for the show to start.

About 50ish people, including my dad, toot (i lurrrve you), her friend and shane (blueberry muffin! and yes, sushi). Mostly expats, followers of the local and international improv scene, but quite a few locals and obvious first-timers as well. A little shy in the beginning, but nothing a little warm-up couldn't solve. I started off pretty tense, not quite sure when to do what and how, (and royally screwed up riverdance and the pirates. but to my defence...RIVERDANCE?! think i've gotta start listening to more styles. *grinz.) but, nevertheless, laughing my head off. Had the most fun playing for the musical segment, though again I think I need to work on range of styles. Oooh perfect excuse for getting random CDs whoopeeee~

The above doesn't do it justice. Twas amazing, I was amazed, and I can't wait to do it again. :)

On a more sober note...I miss mp10. Meeting sy today (let's go costume shopping babe), but missing the mp10 outing on saturday. And they'd all be there. *sulk. Eunice you're not helping either: "don't worry babe, lots of pressure :)". Sigh. I'll be around the area though, I'll drop by if I can.

There's not much time left, is there? And many promises to be kept. Though my mind keeps going, "it's only eight weeks! How bad could eight weeks be? And you WANT to be there!" And, in all honesty, I do. It's a dream come true, and though the real excitement hasn't set in yet (don't worry, I'll warn you when it does), there's this thrill of happiness every time I think about it.

I think I'm not naturally someone who forms close bonds, as sad as that may sound. I mean, I can get close to a person. And be close to a person. And miss him/her like hell when they're not around. But I don't collapse when it happens. I have moments of "what am I gonna do without her/him", but it's not dread. It doesn't mean I love any of you less though. The non-feeling scares me sometimes, but I guess it's something I'll have to get used to. Intellectually and gut-feelingly I know it's going to be tough as hell. But emotionally? No warning yet. Wonder if that's normal. Heh.

As for the title of this post. I felt alive last night. And I guess the more I feel that, the harder it'll be to move on. There's much wisdom in those lyrics. If you don't feel life you'll never feel death, although death is hardly what I'm moving on to. It's a brand new stage, and I can't wait...but like an old friend said, things won't be the same any more.

Here's to the times we knew we'd cry
Here's to goodbye, tomorrow's gonna come too soon

And smack in the middle of a rather bad week...

2006-07-12T13:11:00.000+08:00

Me (reading off quiz paper): One of the largest asteroids brushed past Earth on 3rd July. Though many of them have gone past in the last few years, this has been one of the largest and it has also been classified as a...?

Boy, half-serious: Very Big Rock?

Sigh. I love the kids.

This time

2006-07-11T08:10:00.000+08:00

This time last year, I had just recieved my jct results. They were alright. Not bad, but not fantastic either.

This time last year, I spent more time with mp10 then I did with family. Not because they just happened to be there, but because they were there. More comfort and support to me than they'd every guess.

This time last year, I was struggling to start on my personal statement for the UCAS application. And fretting about whether I should apply for Cambridge or not.

This time last year, music had faded into a painful, throbbing memory of 'I wish I could'.

This time last year, I told myself I don't want to do anything but teach.

This time last year, I couldn't imagine life without the people I was with. Or life after the As. Or drawing my own salary and spending my own money.

Now, I've just finished marking jct papers. And am writing reports. And am comforting distressed year ones (and twos, who probably have more to be distressed about).

Now, I spend most of my week with family. And it feels good. mp10 has, as all groups of friends do, dispersed; some into relative oblivion (or tekong), some into relative reclusiveness, and some only for a couple of weeks at a time, before demanding they see you again (hello sy =)).

Now, I'm trying to find a date for my visa application. And am coming up with a to bring list. And fretting about whether I'll be able to get a ticket through the ballot. And just remembered I may not have posted my accomodation application, eek.

Now, I'm in a band that's family. Am missing a band that's also family, albeit younger (you are, you know.) And have a gig, and potentially more, tomorrow.

Now, I still want to teach. But I want to act too. And dance. And LEARN.

Now, I still can't imagine life without the people I'm with. But I won't have to be imagining in about 10 weeks. Life after the As has been more than I could ask for. And I'm beginning to see the need to budget. Heh.

Time flies, doesn't it. I was talking to alice and totsy yesterday, trying to find a day to go out. And I said my July's packed, and so's the beginning of August. The end of August will be a flurry of marking and giving back papers. And then it's September. And they said yes. And then it's September. And in both windows there was a brief silence. And then: yeah. Yeah. then it's September. And once it's September, the days will fly by. And then that brief silence again.

And I'm torn between amusement at the sentimentality (from guys who claim rebel status/complete uniqueness), annoyance at the sentimentality (it's only 8 weeks!), and sentimentality itself.

2006-07-07T18:39:00.000+08:00

I want to write music like Corrinne May.

Not being able to write what I hear makes me want to cry.

Oh and the lyrics help too.

This is not angst. This is...uh...I blame the waning of the moon.

if i kissed you

Have you ever wondered? I mean...we've all got crushes don't we? Ever wondered what would have happened if...yeah. Yeah.

2006-07-06T01:47:00.000+08:00

Un-named friend: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Me: Uh. What.

Un-named friend: Nothing. Seeing you online makes me happy. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Why. Me.

on my desk

2006-07-04T13:36:00.000+08:00

there is...

a pretty deep deep blue chinese motif fabric purse acting as my pencil box. it was so pretty i couldn't resist.

there are...

way too many unmarked scripts, which i'm unfortunately proving very able to resist.

there is...

an empty marigold peel fresh apple & aloe vera juice carton, the remnants of my "councildaynextweekiwannawearaprettydress" diet lunch.

there are...

tiny crumbs of biscuit mixed with chocolate, the remnants of my "everybodyneedsabreakSOMETIME" not-so-diet thingabajing.

there is...

a red red rose given to me for valentine's day by my parents. my ONLY valentine's day present. how sad is that.

there are...

in my laptop at least, pictures of the kids, the band, the best friends, the non-kids (yes, mark and shane, ye who refuse to respond to kiddo) and the classmates. they make me happy :)

And, for the health education of the public, I hereby announce to you, in great concern, that according to one of the top 10 percentile of our nation's 17 year olds, the H5N1 virus CAN be transmitted by human-to-human contraception. See? The Church was right. Contraception kills.

2006-06-30T08:51:00.000+08:00

No I did not suddenly become computer literate and upload this from my non-existent digital camera. I got it from mrbrown.

Two WHAT better?! I see it everyday at the chai chee bus stop. And it annoys the hell out of me. It's blatent innuendo which is so stark obvious it doesn't even COUNT as innuendo.

And then they wonder why our kids don't seem too innocent any more.

Comes with a health warning

2006-06-29T09:58:00.000+08:00

Humour me.

I'm now going to see how many Abbey Road lyrics I can fit into a single, semi-intelligible paragrah:

Ohhhh darling, mean mr mustard should see polythene pam, in our little hideaway beneath the waves, because here comes bang bang maxwell's silver hammer...it's alright. Once there was a way to get back hoooome, but I'm out of college, money spent, see no future, pay no rent, all that money gone there's no place to goooo...come together!

Oh gawd.

Ribena with cranberry makes me insensibly high. Wonder if they sell any at 7-11...

for the rest of your lovely fluttery lacey little life.

2006-06-28T22:58:00.000+08:00

My sister's prize insult of the day: "May you be blessed with no ability to do a math test for the rest of your lovely fluttery lacey little life."

You can tell the JCT blues have hit hard. Bwaha.

My blues...are floating at a comfortable distance for now.

Sushiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.

2006-06-28T00:26:00.000+08:00

I'm gonna stop running. Now.

Because I refuse to let fear rule me. And I refuse to not live.

And I'll stop rationalising everything too.

Although that would be tough.

Cuz I'm rationalising this as I'm typing.

The backspace key is a terrible option. An erasure of honest thoughts.

And I'm a hypocrite, because I deleted my previous, very honest post.

But hey. I'm just starting. Cut me some slack here.

:)

Random

2006-06-24T21:25:00.000+08:00

It's funny...

how, holding a bunch of colourful balloons on Orchard Road, you're suddenly the receipient of much attention, from kids and their smiling parents alike; once the balloons are all given out though, and all you have are the cards advertising the event, you're avoided like the plague by scowling parents pulling their children out of the way.

how just 22 minutes (we counted) with a bunch of my favouritest people can make your entire week. Adding to that the fact that they actually stopped my mum's car to convince her to let me go. Just for 22 minutes. And then walk me back. :)

how, within one afternoon, one's mood can swing from pensive to exhilarated, totally relaxed and at ease to tense and edgy.

how people who only have a shared experience in common still warm in the company of each other 3 years (gasp!) on.

how, when a 2 year dream is about to be actualised, it's not really excitement but a tinge of fear on anxiety one feels.

how at 12nn I decide that I realised I'm not really made for non-platonic relationships, and at 12.03pm I decide I take that back.

how someone I've known for years has become someone I don't know at all.

how the length of time you know a person doesn't affect in the slightest the amount of missing that will happen when the person's gone.

how I long for a deep relationship with one person, and yet never stick around long enough, emotionally, to let that happen.

how, when you ask me about this later, I'm gonna say I'm fine, really. And mean it.

Edit: Bf criteria has been cut down to 2. Emotionally stable and smarter than me. I need to look up to a guy in more ways than the one I have no choice with.

(Kick)

2006-06-20T23:42:00.000+08:00

TEN FIRSTS:
First Best Friend: In Kindergarden? This boy. Bwaha.

First Nickname: Stinky :)

First Pet: AJ. This lovable mongrel, who died when he (and I) was 11 :(

First Piercing: First and only. Ears.

First Crush: Nick Carter. (Don't. I was only 10 :p)

First CD: The first BSB album. Bwaha. Again, I was TEN.

First Car: My parents drove me home from the hospital in a white toyota.

First Alcoholic Drink: White wine. On my 18th b'day. Heh.

First Kiss: Some things are best left unrecorded.

First Stuffed Animal: Jojo! This stuffed bear I gave my sister when she was born.

NINE LASTS:
Last Alchoholic Beverage: A marguerita at The Iguana in Clarke Quay. On my dad's b'day.

Last Car Ride: Back home from church.

Last Movie Seen: X-men 3!!!

Last Phone Call: Eugene. Late.

Last Song Played: Praise Him :)

Last Meal: Dosai for supper.

Last Time In Love: Ohhh about a week ago.

Last Time You Cried: Yesterday. X-men. Jean. Wolverine. Bah.

EIGHT "HAVE YOU EVERS":
Have you ever dated one of your best friends: Nope.

Have you ever skinny dipped: Whassat.

Have you ever been on TV: Yeah.

Have you ever been drunk: Nope. Like I told (several people tonight), what IS the point of being so drunk you don't REMEMBER being high?

Have you ever kissed someone, and then regretted it: Yeah.

Have you ever been stoned: As in on drugs? No, duh.

SEVEN THINGS YOU ARE WEARING:
1) Favourite black skirt with pretty pink and white and green design
2) Peach blouse
3) Left pink earring
4) Right pink earring
5) Silver cross necklace
6) Erm. Underwear.
7) Does lip gloss count?

SIX THINGS YOU'VE DONE TODAY:
1) Checked my mail
2) Transcripted the Gloria (3 different versions)
3) Visited friend in hospital
4) Went for YMM practice
5) Played at Novena Mass
6) Blogged.

FIVE PEOPLE YOU CAN TELL ANYTHING TO:
1) God
2) Toot
3) Jordon, though he might fall asleep halfway :p
4) Uh. The confessor.
5) My parents? Most stuff, anyway.

FOUR FAVORITE THINGS IN NO ORDER:
1) MUSIC! Playing the keyboards.
2) Loving and laughing. (Shane get your mind out of the gutter.)
3) Reading.
4) Just BEING.

THREE CHOICES:
1) Black or white: That's racist.

2) Hot or Cold: Cold in the day, hot at night.

3) Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate.

TWO THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1) Fall in love, get married, and have 7 kids. Or become a nun. They're mutually exclusive, and I havn't quite decided. (Seriously.)
2) Teach the Faith.

ONE THING YOU REGRET:
Regretting anything at all.

Bah.

2006-06-15T00:48:00.000+08:00

After a particularly frustrating day:

Me: I have shortened my boyfriend criteria.
1. Emotionally stable
2. Mentally stable
3. Spiritually stable
HOW HARD IS THAT, MAN?!

Shane: HAHAHAHAHHA
ummm....you realise that the only men who fit all that criteria are wearing robes and standing in front of altars?

Bahhhhh.

p.s. Just to make Ryan happy: I went cycling with Ryan to east coast yesterday, yay! See? I do talk about you in my blog :p

It's been a long time (since I left you)

2006-06-12T09:40:00.000+08:00

Time's a funny thing. While you're in it it mulches along, squishily...but when it's over it just never seems to have taken very long. That's how the last two weeks felt, anyhow.

All those things I wanted to blog about don't seem so important anymore. Either that or I've lost the ability to convey feelings to words. (which is, you know, bad.) I need to write.

And, random TJ councillors lurking, Council Day is on the 15th of July, 6.30 - 10pm. Details are on the way.

I'm beginning to enjoy Chaucer. Took me long enough. But everytime I really sit down and read, I remember why I love Lit. Love. Not like. Looove.

I know. This is choppy.

the peril of a brilliant session

2006-05-29T01:06:00.000+08:00

is that I can't get songs out of my head.

Take me there, Watermark

Take me there to the place where You are, take me there, take me there
I just wanna be where You are
Oh and hide me in Your shelter, hide me here, hide me here
I just wanna be where You are

You have buried my sin in the depths, oh Lord
And You've covered me from the furious storm
And You've kept me in the cleft of Your Rock
And You've loved me there right from the start

Take me there to the place where You are, take me there, take me there
I just wanna be where You are
Oh and hide me in Your shelter, hide me here, hide me here
I just wanna be where You are

You are here and I can feel You, I just love to be where You are
Hide me in Your shelter, hide me here, I just love to be where You are

Brilliant end to the week. And the hols are here. I am jobless.

I'm so sleepy. But I can't sleep. Think I'll go read.

2006-05-27T17:22:00.000+08:00

Chaucer's slightly scary.

I've just wasted 2 hours doing absolutely nothing.

I've got no reason to feel the way I'm feeling now.