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

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

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

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'

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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*

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?

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.

Read my VisualDNA™     Get your own VisualDNA™

:)

Doggone it

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

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.

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...

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

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.