It's been a ridiculously long time since I've posted. There're lots of things I've thought of saying... half of which I've forgotten.
We're moving soon. It's a bother packing, but actually, I don't do much of it, since it's hard for me to throw stuff away - I'm a bit of a magpie, or pack rat, you might call it. My mum can dump old things like she was born doing it, though - a trait not one of us have inherited.
I've turned my interest to comedy, thanks to my brother. British humour is amazingly satisfying, it really spoils my appetite for the American variety. After watching so much Monty Python, Howie Do It is curiously stupid and dull.
I've watched a lot of Monty Python lately, actually. For those of you who don't know them, Monty Python is a British comedy group consisting of John Cleese, Graham Chapman, Eric Idle, Michael Palin, Terry Jones and Terry Gilliam. They had a TV series called Monty Python's Flying Circus.
The reason why I'm so tediously insipid at the moment is due to my drugged sensation of sleepiness. I'll go appease my brain now, g'tie.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Screaming blue murder
I have no idea what that means, but it looks cool. I'm writing not because I have something to write about, but simply for the sake of it.
Yesterday, while I was on MSN, I saw something about a thirteen-year-old blogger who was famous and being invited to all sorts of fashion shows and blah. Apparently some fashion people saw her blog, which reviews, I think, the clothes that wacky fashion designers come up with.
One thing's for sure: if we ever met, we would never see eye to eye.
First of all, the fact that she likes, and keeps up with, trends of the day. Call me old, stiff, close-minded, whatever you like, but I simply cannot understand modern fashion. Just like abstract art. Who in the real world actually keeps up with these things? Seriously. In my opinion, if it's not your job to critique or design or model, and you're not a celebrity, then why do you bloody care?
(I'm not criticising her, actually, since it is her job now. I think.)
Then the way her blog is written. Okay, I know, I know, she's not a writer, but just reading it makes me feel frivolous and rather groupie-like. Of course, it doesn't matter, since she's a critic and not an author. Just sayin'.
My dad said I should start commenting on books, but most unfortunately, there's no Borders or MPH or Popular or any proper fiction bookstore here. So bluek. I don't think I wanna be the next great book critic prodigy or whatever, anyway.
My head is throbbing, my vision is splotching, my temper is irritable and I gotta go.
Yesterday, while I was on MSN, I saw something about a thirteen-year-old blogger who was famous and being invited to all sorts of fashion shows and blah. Apparently some fashion people saw her blog, which reviews, I think, the clothes that wacky fashion designers come up with.
One thing's for sure: if we ever met, we would never see eye to eye.
First of all, the fact that she likes, and keeps up with, trends of the day. Call me old, stiff, close-minded, whatever you like, but I simply cannot understand modern fashion. Just like abstract art. Who in the real world actually keeps up with these things? Seriously. In my opinion, if it's not your job to critique or design or model, and you're not a celebrity, then why do you bloody care?
(I'm not criticising her, actually, since it is her job now. I think.)
Then the way her blog is written. Okay, I know, I know, she's not a writer, but just reading it makes me feel frivolous and rather groupie-like. Of course, it doesn't matter, since she's a critic and not an author. Just sayin'.
My dad said I should start commenting on books, but most unfortunately, there's no Borders or MPH or Popular or any proper fiction bookstore here. So bluek. I don't think I wanna be the next great book critic prodigy or whatever, anyway.
My head is throbbing, my vision is splotching, my temper is irritable and I gotta go.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Okay, I know I said I won't post anymore negative stuff. But p-lease. It's only bad stuff that's exciting, i'nn'it? What's that phrase? Negative bias. Yeah well, it's usually the embarassing/angering/saddening things that we brood about, that we think about. So I'm not surprised that I've already broken the "write about good stuff" promise.
Sorry I didn't post sooner, but when I wanted to yesterday, there was some kind of bug affecting Google. I couldn't bloody type. I couldn't even sign in! Very frustrating, I can tell you. That was one of the few times I got mad at Google, even though I was using their map for my Geography folio. I suddenly wasn't so grateful.
Yesterday, I went to school feeling a li'l aggrieved. You see, on Thursday (here we go with the choronicles!), a classmate did something rather disgusting (read: lewd) to another classmate. Of course, Classmate 2 got mad and tried to give Classmate 1 his due, but laughing all the while. And so did the others. In fact, the only unsmiling face was my own. I was stricken, shocked that she did not seem as angry as I expected, weird as that may sound.
It reminds me of another instance in my class when boys were pelting pieces of paper at the girls' behinds. It was right in front of the teacher, and us girls scattered, but the teacher didn't seem angry - she did not reprimand them in the least. But then, who can? If you do, it's not like they'll understand. I really felt like crying with frustration. Try making a crawling plant stand on its own without tying, and you'll see what I mean. There was, like, no solution. How to make them comprehend the discomfort, embarassment and whatever feelings caused, when they couldn't, unless they themselves were girls.
I have to thank another friend of mine now. I was ranting to him to unburden myself, when he said the most encouraging, reverse-psychological (though I know he does not mean it to be) phrase I could hear: "What can you do? It's all fate." Which absolutely convinces me there IS a way, even if I'm just 13.
What more, it RAINED during assembly. The SPM students were laughing at us. When it started to drizzle, the teacher on stage didn't even seem to notice, and all the more those comfortably seated under the roof. They should've known, I can't help but think - the sky was as dark as a crow's wing, and quite as foreboding. Anyway, the teacher just mentioned that he had to end his speech due to weather complications when the drizzle became an absolute downpour. The students, including myself, of course, bolted. Some even screamed. Yeeowza.
That was pretty dumb.
I would have more to talk about, but I gotta sign off for lunch now. Tata.
Sorry I didn't post sooner, but when I wanted to yesterday, there was some kind of bug affecting Google. I couldn't bloody type. I couldn't even sign in! Very frustrating, I can tell you. That was one of the few times I got mad at Google, even though I was using their map for my Geography folio. I suddenly wasn't so grateful.
Yesterday, I went to school feeling a li'l aggrieved. You see, on Thursday (here we go with the choronicles!), a classmate did something rather disgusting (read: lewd) to another classmate. Of course, Classmate 2 got mad and tried to give Classmate 1 his due, but laughing all the while. And so did the others. In fact, the only unsmiling face was my own. I was stricken, shocked that she did not seem as angry as I expected, weird as that may sound.
It reminds me of another instance in my class when boys were pelting pieces of paper at the girls' behinds. It was right in front of the teacher, and us girls scattered, but the teacher didn't seem angry - she did not reprimand them in the least. But then, who can? If you do, it's not like they'll understand. I really felt like crying with frustration. Try making a crawling plant stand on its own without tying, and you'll see what I mean. There was, like, no solution. How to make them comprehend the discomfort, embarassment and whatever feelings caused, when they couldn't, unless they themselves were girls.
I have to thank another friend of mine now. I was ranting to him to unburden myself, when he said the most encouraging, reverse-psychological (though I know he does not mean it to be) phrase I could hear: "What can you do? It's all fate." Which absolutely convinces me there IS a way, even if I'm just 13.
What more, it RAINED during assembly. The SPM students were laughing at us. When it started to drizzle, the teacher on stage didn't even seem to notice, and all the more those comfortably seated under the roof. They should've known, I can't help but think - the sky was as dark as a crow's wing, and quite as foreboding. Anyway, the teacher just mentioned that he had to end his speech due to weather complications when the drizzle became an absolute downpour. The students, including myself, of course, bolted. Some even screamed. Yeeowza.
That was pretty dumb.
I would have more to talk about, but I gotta sign off for lunch now. Tata.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Haunts, hatred, haze, and H1N1. (and holiday homework, of course.)
Spuuukeynesss. Ghost month again. Isn't it strange? Rather like a climax, in a way. These months, since the football competition, my classmates have been exchanging ghost stories at every event - birthdays, camps, and whenever the teacher is out. I don't know what's their obsession with the supernatural, but I do believe it's infecting me. And I know it can't be healthy.
To tell the truth, I was so spooked out on Wednesday night that I COULD NOT SLEEP. I was sleepy but didn't dare go to sleep, because then I would have to turn off the light. And in my state of mind I was sure something would grab my leg as I was getting back in bed. I watched my phone clock with an uneasy eye. Terrified that midnight would strike.
I fell asleep in the end, but woke up twice. My dad switched the light off for me, I think. When I woke up in the morning I didn't dare open my eyes for fear of what I'd see. I waited till my mum had to come into my room and turn on the light before I got out of bed. In the bathroom I leaned against the wall to avoid looking in the mirror, worried that someone would be behind me. I avoided the toilet unless it was urgent, and almost didn't brush my teeth.
Aren't I superstitious.
On another note, one of my good friends had a sudden fit of temper yesterday. I didn't realise how severe until today. It was very severe. But she obviously vented her spleen quite completely - she did not say anything particularly evil-tempered today. I hope she's herself again. A single moment of anger is better than a long drawn-out feud.
The haze is worsening, so much that we cannot detect it by scent anymore - it has been affecting our nostrils for too long. My eyes sting even now. I hate haze. a glance outside my house tells me how thick it is. H1N1 infiltrated the school, by the way. A fourth-former got it. Yikes.
Aaaaaaaaaagh. I have tonnes of folios to do, and not a single inclination to! Gobshite. I have to finish my civic folio by the end of the hols. Oh, sucks to the world of folio work! Not to mention homework. And the exams. Yippee yea yea.
I wish all the people in my class - especially the more rowdy ones - could read Lord of The Flies. It's not written very interestingly, but it's dark and ought to give them a prick at their conscience. If they bothered to understand it. Then maybe they'd be more respectful of rules.
Holidays. No fun involved. Just folios.
To tell the truth, I was so spooked out on Wednesday night that I COULD NOT SLEEP. I was sleepy but didn't dare go to sleep, because then I would have to turn off the light. And in my state of mind I was sure something would grab my leg as I was getting back in bed. I watched my phone clock with an uneasy eye. Terrified that midnight would strike.
I fell asleep in the end, but woke up twice. My dad switched the light off for me, I think. When I woke up in the morning I didn't dare open my eyes for fear of what I'd see. I waited till my mum had to come into my room and turn on the light before I got out of bed. In the bathroom I leaned against the wall to avoid looking in the mirror, worried that someone would be behind me. I avoided the toilet unless it was urgent, and almost didn't brush my teeth.
Aren't I superstitious.
On another note, one of my good friends had a sudden fit of temper yesterday. I didn't realise how severe until today. It was very severe. But she obviously vented her spleen quite completely - she did not say anything particularly evil-tempered today. I hope she's herself again. A single moment of anger is better than a long drawn-out feud.
The haze is worsening, so much that we cannot detect it by scent anymore - it has been affecting our nostrils for too long. My eyes sting even now. I hate haze. a glance outside my house tells me how thick it is. H1N1 infiltrated the school, by the way. A fourth-former got it. Yikes.
Aaaaaaaaaagh. I have tonnes of folios to do, and not a single inclination to! Gobshite. I have to finish my civic folio by the end of the hols. Oh, sucks to the world of folio work! Not to mention homework. And the exams. Yippee yea yea.
I wish all the people in my class - especially the more rowdy ones - could read Lord of The Flies. It's not written very interestingly, but it's dark and ought to give them a prick at their conscience. If they bothered to understand it. Then maybe they'd be more respectful of rules.
Holidays. No fun involved. Just folios.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Food for thought -
Maybe it's just me, but it seems that things always seem better when you look back on them. The present lays the facts down bare, clean and honest, but the past exaggerates them. Another weird thing about life, along with where the socks go after laundry is done.
I also see that the less you care about society, the better it treats you. Either that, or you just don't realise when you're being outcast. When I was ten and thought friends were life, pretty much everyone hated me, including myself. Now I'm three years older and couldn't care less who does. It feels gooood.
However, I'm still trying to unravel certain mysteries. Like why most people instinctively fear facing the truth, or rational discussion. Really. Example: when you have a fight with your friend and he or she wants to talk about it, you dread the moment. Or when you know someone likes/hates you, and are scared that he or she wants to talk to you about the feelings between the both of you. It's strange.
Also, I am adopting a new doctrine: to step in someone else's shoes. When my teacher yells at the class, I won't blame her instantly. I'll try to understand why she's upset and attempt to remedy it. If possible. And I'll take a new motto I got from Anne of Windy Willows: "If you carry a smiling visage, to the glass you meet a smile." Although it won't be easy smiling at people with a mask over my mouth and nose. Figures.
I think I should be more assertive. Maybe I'm acting rather doormat-ish in my efforts to be a forgiving, diplomatic person. Perhaps I'm too forgiving. But blah. I so need my sleep now.
I also see that the less you care about society, the better it treats you. Either that, or you just don't realise when you're being outcast. When I was ten and thought friends were life, pretty much everyone hated me, including myself. Now I'm three years older and couldn't care less who does. It feels gooood.
However, I'm still trying to unravel certain mysteries. Like why most people instinctively fear facing the truth, or rational discussion. Really. Example: when you have a fight with your friend and he or she wants to talk about it, you dread the moment. Or when you know someone likes/hates you, and are scared that he or she wants to talk to you about the feelings between the both of you. It's strange.
Also, I am adopting a new doctrine: to step in someone else's shoes. When my teacher yells at the class, I won't blame her instantly. I'll try to understand why she's upset and attempt to remedy it. If possible. And I'll take a new motto I got from Anne of Windy Willows: "If you carry a smiling visage, to the glass you meet a smile." Although it won't be easy smiling at people with a mask over my mouth and nose. Figures.
I think I should be more assertive. Maybe I'm acting rather doormat-ish in my efforts to be a forgiving, diplomatic person. Perhaps I'm too forgiving. But blah. I so need my sleep now.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Unpleasant things.
Okay, so most of my posts were about not-so-nice stuff. Like moving. Eugh. I guess I do need to lighten up my blog. But let me have a final rant before I do!
I find that many of my friends, mostly the girls, have things against each other. It's so scary and complicated. Like, one moment they're behaving like the best of friends and the next one of them is fuming once the other has left. I'm not very sure how, perhaps it's in-built instinct. It's kind of hard to do, but I think I've mastered the art of it, though the cover does slip once in a while. But now I'm moving, and it puts things in a whole different perspective. Why should I have enemies when they could be friends? Albeit not close ones, but good enough. I'm trying to strike up an acquaintance with my Malay classmates, namely Zaitul and Aliff, since I'm not particularly close to them. I guess the language barrier is a factor - I'm not used to speaking Malay outside the scouts. Figures.
Anyway, moving on!
I've decided that I should have a crush on someone this year. It's not very controllable, but I'm determined to have one on whoever catches my fancy. This year has been exceedingly dull and not as much a romantic whirlwind as it was last year. Probably thanks to the absence of the latest songs on the PA system, the new headmistress and my not-so-closeness with th fifth-formers. Plus, the freedom-fun has moved aside to make way for study-fun. But mostly because I don't have a crush on anyone!
Please ignore the above paragraph. I know I'm foolish, since I can't help who I crush on, or if I crush on anyone at all.
Continuing my glib babbling...
Instead of heading inland, I went for the Bike Fest at the Eagle Ranch today. It was so cool and we got lost in all the Tamans of 4th mile trying to find a shortcut thru traffic. B-E-A-Utiful bikes. Sorry I couldn't go to your house, Jia Yi - Happy Birthday!
I love the world. I think I've come up with a new idea - to think of what made me smile each day. As plagarised from Jen of YWS fame. Anywhoodledoodle, I'd better sign off now.
I find that many of my friends, mostly the girls, have things against each other. It's so scary and complicated. Like, one moment they're behaving like the best of friends and the next one of them is fuming once the other has left. I'm not very sure how, perhaps it's in-built instinct. It's kind of hard to do, but I think I've mastered the art of it, though the cover does slip once in a while. But now I'm moving, and it puts things in a whole different perspective. Why should I have enemies when they could be friends? Albeit not close ones, but good enough. I'm trying to strike up an acquaintance with my Malay classmates, namely Zaitul and Aliff, since I'm not particularly close to them. I guess the language barrier is a factor - I'm not used to speaking Malay outside the scouts. Figures.
Anyway, moving on!
I've decided that I should have a crush on someone this year. It's not very controllable, but I'm determined to have one on whoever catches my fancy. This year has been exceedingly dull and not as much a romantic whirlwind as it was last year. Probably thanks to the absence of the latest songs on the PA system, the new headmistress and my not-so-closeness with th fifth-formers. Plus, the freedom-fun has moved aside to make way for study-fun. But mostly because I don't have a crush on anyone!
Please ignore the above paragraph. I know I'm foolish, since I can't help who I crush on, or if I crush on anyone at all.
Continuing my glib babbling...
Instead of heading inland, I went for the Bike Fest at the Eagle Ranch today. It was so cool and we got lost in all the Tamans of 4th mile trying to find a shortcut thru traffic. B-E-A-Utiful bikes. Sorry I couldn't go to your house, Jia Yi - Happy Birthday!
I love the world. I think I've come up with a new idea - to think of what made me smile each day. As plagarised from Jen of YWS fame. Anywhoodledoodle, I'd better sign off now.
On moving.
I don't want to move.
At least, not till I'm out of school. I want to experience walking to STPD - staying there as long as I like, then going back when I want to - for all my schooling years. Maybe I never fully appreciated how good it is to live next to the school. Life is good here.
I don't want to leave my home. My house, white walls and black roof. My home. The ultimate cold, silent queen of houses, sophisticated and proud of all its ghosts and childish murals, courtesy of my siblings and I. A royal mansion of messy homey-ness, cool yet warm with sunlight and dreams. My room still bears the large Scout logo, quill and pawn I pencilled onto its white-washed exterior.
I love where I am. I know I'll have to move someday, but can't it be another day?
But I won't worry. Life goes on. I think I'm not changing schools. There's a positive spin to that.
At least, not till I'm out of school. I want to experience walking to STPD - staying there as long as I like, then going back when I want to - for all my schooling years. Maybe I never fully appreciated how good it is to live next to the school. Life is good here.
I don't want to leave my home. My house, white walls and black roof. My home. The ultimate cold, silent queen of houses, sophisticated and proud of all its ghosts and childish murals, courtesy of my siblings and I. A royal mansion of messy homey-ness, cool yet warm with sunlight and dreams. My room still bears the large Scout logo, quill and pawn I pencilled onto its white-washed exterior.
I love where I am. I know I'll have to move someday, but can't it be another day?
But I won't worry. Life goes on. I think I'm not changing schools. There's a positive spin to that.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
On High
Precisely. I got high today. Doing Accounting.
I can hear you saying WTF.
During KH today, we learnt Simpan Kira, a.k.a. accounting, which was, indeed, great fun. Just ask Lim. I spent half the time giggling with delight. Perhaps this is, indeed, one of those strange defining moments in time, or maybe I'm just insane. All I know is that I fell in love with accounts this afternoon.
However, time flies when you scribble accounts, and so we packed up before we could finish. The moment the teacher let us out, I traipsed to the canteen to finish it up. It was that addictive. Tan Poh Kuan said he could see that it made me very happy. I wonder if it will ever repeat this feat in the future.
In other news! I'm putting one of my more ditsy, Twilight-esque essays on my blog. I wrote it around last year. Go ahead and purge.
I sat at the bench, staring at the size 12 font unseeingly. My manuscript was paper-clipped to page 37 of The Odyssey, where I decided to place it to save it from being crumpled in the savage machine that was my bag. The Odyssey was one of the many books that I could never stomach, and sacrificed it I did. It survived the day, however. Biting my lip, I decided to actually make an effort to read. My head was jam-packed with oddly excited voices, so I had to murmur under my breath.
I sat on the stone bench, staring at the size 12 font unseeingly. My manuscript was paper-clipped to page 37 of The Odyssey, where I decided to place it to save it from being crumpled in the savage animal that was my bag. The Odyssey was one of the many books that I could never stomach, and I had no qualms about sacrificing it. It survived the day, however. Biting my lip, I decided to actually make an effort to read my story. My head was jam-packed with oddly excited voices, blurring out the noises of the outside world and the voice inside my mind that usually read in silence, so I had to murmur under my breath. The words I muttered were unheard by any other person at the crowded bus-stop.
“’He tweaked his bowtie, carefully checking his tuxedo in the long mirror. Even as he – ’ fine, I give up!” Frustration filled me like it always did at my poor persistance. Not a word had registered in my brain. I could never pull this off. Just stare at the words, I thought to myself. Stare at the words. I would never have thought of doing this, but my unwittingly stupid mind devised this plan, and dragged me along for the ride. So here I was. Waiting, prop in hand. Just waiting.
“The Odyssey, huh?”
I looked up, and finally, there he was. Instantly, I felt like an idiot.
“I’m not actually reading it. Double-checking my story, to be honest.” Drat his piercing eyes. He knew perfectly well that I was hyperaware of him, jolting at every step closer he took, that I had been waiting for this, planning to the last second. He knew too well that I wasn’t reading at all, that the moving of my eyes was a complete façade. And he could hear my breath quickening, see my ears pricking to catch every word he said. My pupils must have dilated an inch to see all of him. I sounded ridiculous. I looked homely. My pose was awkward. Self-consciousness chained me down to the rack and twisted.
My friends were definitely blind. He was the most amazing person I had ever laid eyes on. I could testify to that. And now he looked at my book – avoiding my gawk, maybe? I looked down also. The manuscript was tugged gently out of the paper clip and my hands, but I couldn’t have refused him anyway. I closed the book, before turning to him to see his reaction. He read with amazing speed, I noticed; his eyes darted back and forth at the speed of sound. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t all that far off from the truth. Within those five minutes, he handed it back to me.
“That’s great, Lils. What’re you planning to do with it?”
I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as my spirits soared and plunged with a swiftness to rival that of a jet plane. Of course he would say that, I laughed at myself. What else would he say? He had to be polite. “Nothing. It was just for fun.”
He looked genuinely disappointed. “That’s a waste of a good story. Oh well. Gotta go now. Bye!”
I waved, smiling at him, a featherbrained giggle threatening to escape the upturned corners of my lips. Turning around, I walked away, my ears ringing with his bass-toned voice, my eyes tinted by the bliss of his smile. Today seemed like a perfect day, and I looked forward to tomorrow. Maybe I would save this story, I mused. Put it somewhere secure, make sure the silverfish don't get to it. I whistled as I skipped back home.
I didn't know the surprise that awaited me tomorrow. The bittersweet surprise.
I can hear you saying WTF.
During KH today, we learnt Simpan Kira, a.k.a. accounting, which was, indeed, great fun. Just ask Lim. I spent half the time giggling with delight. Perhaps this is, indeed, one of those strange defining moments in time, or maybe I'm just insane. All I know is that I fell in love with accounts this afternoon.
However, time flies when you scribble accounts, and so we packed up before we could finish. The moment the teacher let us out, I traipsed to the canteen to finish it up. It was that addictive. Tan Poh Kuan said he could see that it made me very happy. I wonder if it will ever repeat this feat in the future.
In other news! I'm putting one of my more ditsy, Twilight-esque essays on my blog. I wrote it around last year. Go ahead and purge.
I sat at the bench, staring at the size 12 font unseeingly. My manuscript was paper-clipped to page 37 of The Odyssey, where I decided to place it to save it from being crumpled in the savage machine that was my bag. The Odyssey was one of the many books that I could never stomach, and sacrificed it I did. It survived the day, however. Biting my lip, I decided to actually make an effort to read. My head was jam-packed with oddly excited voices, so I had to murmur under my breath.
I sat on the stone bench, staring at the size 12 font unseeingly. My manuscript was paper-clipped to page 37 of The Odyssey, where I decided to place it to save it from being crumpled in the savage animal that was my bag. The Odyssey was one of the many books that I could never stomach, and I had no qualms about sacrificing it. It survived the day, however. Biting my lip, I decided to actually make an effort to read my story. My head was jam-packed with oddly excited voices, blurring out the noises of the outside world and the voice inside my mind that usually read in silence, so I had to murmur under my breath. The words I muttered were unheard by any other person at the crowded bus-stop.
“’He tweaked his bowtie, carefully checking his tuxedo in the long mirror. Even as he – ’ fine, I give up!” Frustration filled me like it always did at my poor persistance. Not a word had registered in my brain. I could never pull this off. Just stare at the words, I thought to myself. Stare at the words. I would never have thought of doing this, but my unwittingly stupid mind devised this plan, and dragged me along for the ride. So here I was. Waiting, prop in hand. Just waiting.
“The Odyssey, huh?”
I looked up, and finally, there he was. Instantly, I felt like an idiot.
“I’m not actually reading it. Double-checking my story, to be honest.” Drat his piercing eyes. He knew perfectly well that I was hyperaware of him, jolting at every step closer he took, that I had been waiting for this, planning to the last second. He knew too well that I wasn’t reading at all, that the moving of my eyes was a complete façade. And he could hear my breath quickening, see my ears pricking to catch every word he said. My pupils must have dilated an inch to see all of him. I sounded ridiculous. I looked homely. My pose was awkward. Self-consciousness chained me down to the rack and twisted.
My friends were definitely blind. He was the most amazing person I had ever laid eyes on. I could testify to that. And now he looked at my book – avoiding my gawk, maybe? I looked down also. The manuscript was tugged gently out of the paper clip and my hands, but I couldn’t have refused him anyway. I closed the book, before turning to him to see his reaction. He read with amazing speed, I noticed; his eyes darted back and forth at the speed of sound. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t all that far off from the truth. Within those five minutes, he handed it back to me.
“That’s great, Lils. What’re you planning to do with it?”
I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as my spirits soared and plunged with a swiftness to rival that of a jet plane. Of course he would say that, I laughed at myself. What else would he say? He had to be polite. “Nothing. It was just for fun.”
He looked genuinely disappointed. “That’s a waste of a good story. Oh well. Gotta go now. Bye!”
I waved, smiling at him, a featherbrained giggle threatening to escape the upturned corners of my lips. Turning around, I walked away, my ears ringing with his bass-toned voice, my eyes tinted by the bliss of his smile. Today seemed like a perfect day, and I looked forward to tomorrow. Maybe I would save this story, I mused. Put it somewhere secure, make sure the silverfish don't get to it. I whistled as I skipped back home.
I didn't know the surprise that awaited me tomorrow. The bittersweet surprise.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Summer solstice has past, and the rain gods have decided, once again, that we are worthy enough to be watered; they are done with their tempting and taunting, done with greying the sky and shocking the Earth, only to leave without giving a drop of what they hold.
A.K.A, it's been raining at last.
I've kept to my promises, and the results have shown earlier than I expected. I hadn't even made them at the time.
Ever since I began with my resolutions, I've found that my memory, when it come to classes, is improving. Whoopee.
Anywhoodledoodle...
Today was productive, but in a rather boring way. I managed to get rid of my boredom, though, by writing a li'l.
Total randomness - it was pretty much make-it-up-as-I-go-along.
A writer, a travelling journalist
Penning his story in hues of acryllic.
Quilting the pieces of his hardship
With a thread of song.
Or a designer, perhaps an architect
Drawing the plans and schemes with a twitch of the reins.
Bending the laws of gravity,
To suit his taste.
But, for now, a child
An adult. Something in between.
A faithful friend, an eager pupil
Full of hopes and dreams.
That is who I am.
Who I am to be remains to be seen.
And!!
I think I'll write a poem on Michael Jackson. He's got a very poetic story. Mourning for him now.
A.K.A, it's been raining at last.
I've kept to my promises, and the results have shown earlier than I expected. I hadn't even made them at the time.
Ever since I began with my resolutions, I've found that my memory, when it come to classes, is improving. Whoopee.
Anywhoodledoodle...
Today was productive, but in a rather boring way. I managed to get rid of my boredom, though, by writing a li'l.
Total randomness - it was pretty much make-it-up-as-I-go-along.
A writer, a travelling journalist
Penning his story in hues of acryllic.
Quilting the pieces of his hardship
With a thread of song.
Or a designer, perhaps an architect
Drawing the plans and schemes with a twitch of the reins.
Bending the laws of gravity,
To suit his taste.
But, for now, a child
An adult. Something in between.
A faithful friend, an eager pupil
Full of hopes and dreams.
That is who I am.
Who I am to be remains to be seen.
And!!
I think I'll write a poem on Michael Jackson. He's got a very poetic story. Mourning for him now.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
The Gouge-Out
"He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire."
Is it normal to feel like you want everyone to know what you are intent on keeping secret?
For example, say you bought a new dress or shirt for your friend. You want to keep it a surprise but find, at the same time, that you simply can't resist dropping numerous, less-than-subtle hints so he or she finds out in the end. And it seems hard to stop short of telling him or her outright. Or, another more common example is that you heard a secret from someone and can't wait to tell your besties.
Perhaps, you might have a crush on someone but feel too shy to tell your friends in case they disapprove, yet you say lots of things to make them guess it.
Whatever it is, I'm trying to find out if this sort of feeling has been identified and named. If possible, I'd like to know what region of the brain it is associated with. Actually, does anyone else ever feel it? Am I just weird?
I think this is a kind of thing is intended to let others on without outright telling, to see their reactions and figure out if you should tell them. I'll call it the gouge-out.
*
Not that any of those examples include me - trust me, secrets you confide in me are stored in very secluded parts of my mind that I rarely think of telling anyone else. It's my own secrets I feel like telling, but don't because pretty much no-one cares. I don't think I'm famous for ratting out people. Or am I? Maybe I just don't know it. But I'm rambling.
Anyway, I need someone to help me keep to my resolutions. Make me feel guilty. And I can return the favour when the occasion arises. I'll get a temporary person while I search.
Is it normal to feel like you want everyone to know what you are intent on keeping secret?
For example, say you bought a new dress or shirt for your friend. You want to keep it a surprise but find, at the same time, that you simply can't resist dropping numerous, less-than-subtle hints so he or she finds out in the end. And it seems hard to stop short of telling him or her outright. Or, another more common example is that you heard a secret from someone and can't wait to tell your besties.
Perhaps, you might have a crush on someone but feel too shy to tell your friends in case they disapprove, yet you say lots of things to make them guess it.
Whatever it is, I'm trying to find out if this sort of feeling has been identified and named. If possible, I'd like to know what region of the brain it is associated with. Actually, does anyone else ever feel it? Am I just weird?
I think this is a kind of thing is intended to let others on without outright telling, to see their reactions and figure out if you should tell them. I'll call it the gouge-out.
*
Not that any of those examples include me - trust me, secrets you confide in me are stored in very secluded parts of my mind that I rarely think of telling anyone else. It's my own secrets I feel like telling, but don't because pretty much no-one cares. I don't think I'm famous for ratting out people. Or am I? Maybe I just don't know it. But I'm rambling.
Anyway, I need someone to help me keep to my resolutions. Make me feel guilty. And I can return the favour when the occasion arises. I'll get a temporary person while I search.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Folios! Projects! Paperwork!
"Those that don't know me very well imagine that I wear jeans all the time. Those who do know it."
Recently, for no reason in particular, I have been revisiting my blog. Even when I have nothing to post, I always type the f- URL and arrive here with nothing on my mind. As if I'm waiting for someone to update it, even though only I can. Like I'm watching for news of infiltration or something. Has anyone previously experienced this?
*
Anyway, back to the topic. I have discovered quite a few forgotten folios this holiday. Which are due very soon. Yikes.
This kinda proves that I never really attend to Civic class. I knew about all the other folios but this one. And it stinks. "Jiran Saya" (My Neighbour). What the bloody hell am I supposed to write?!? My close neighbours have all moved out and my new ones are pretty boring. And are going to move out soon, too. I think I have to photoshop my pics!
My neighbour is an Indian man by the name of Mr. X. He has a wife, four children and one grandchild (boy or girl? I think boy). Two of his children are working and married, one is still in university and one in school (Form 5, apparently). I got a picture of his daughter's "wedding" from one of those bridal make-up sites. Mr X is the Maintainence Manager of the Tuanku Ja'afar Power Station. Contribute ideas if possible! I made one of his daughters a recuperating anorexic. Actually, I've done my Penghargaan, Objektif, Pendahuluan, Rumusan, Hubungan antara Kami and Rujukan. Now I just have to get my biodatas in. And the pics. (A/N: Maybe I'll call a friend's family to pose?)
My Science is considered done to me, though all I did was get all the pics. I haven't organised them properly or stuck them in yet. Gotta get that done by tomorrow. I'm not doing Geo 'cause the teacher might tell us something different after the break. He's going to re-brief us on it.
My KH thing had to be re-done a couple of times, I didn't know the exact format. Not even now. The teacher told us biodata, then something about pasting our research next to it (citation needed, to quote wikipedia).
*
Note to some misguided people: I do not have a boyfriend. Male friends, no boyfriends.
*
Air Pressure confuses me slightly. I'm not very sure about it, but I probably understand it - I got all the answers right. I need to re-read it. I want to get on to dynamics, but all the project work is squeezing my poor study time away. I wanna learn loci! I wanna learn Bab 10 of Geo! I wanna finish chapter 6 of history! All my possessions for a moment of time - a la the Queen.
*
Back to jogging for me! Thursday is jogging day again. No heart palpitations this time.
The holidays are so close to finishing. Which is rather sad. I'll go practice for drama.
Recently, for no reason in particular, I have been revisiting my blog. Even when I have nothing to post, I always type the f- URL and arrive here with nothing on my mind. As if I'm waiting for someone to update it, even though only I can. Like I'm watching for news of infiltration or something. Has anyone previously experienced this?
*
Anyway, back to the topic. I have discovered quite a few forgotten folios this holiday. Which are due very soon. Yikes.
This kinda proves that I never really attend to Civic class. I knew about all the other folios but this one. And it stinks. "Jiran Saya" (My Neighbour). What the bloody hell am I supposed to write?!? My close neighbours have all moved out and my new ones are pretty boring. And are going to move out soon, too. I think I have to photoshop my pics!
My neighbour is an Indian man by the name of Mr. X. He has a wife, four children and one grandchild (boy or girl? I think boy). Two of his children are working and married, one is still in university and one in school (Form 5, apparently). I got a picture of his daughter's "wedding" from one of those bridal make-up sites. Mr X is the Maintainence Manager of the Tuanku Ja'afar Power Station. Contribute ideas if possible! I made one of his daughters a recuperating anorexic. Actually, I've done my Penghargaan, Objektif, Pendahuluan, Rumusan, Hubungan antara Kami and Rujukan. Now I just have to get my biodatas in. And the pics. (A/N: Maybe I'll call a friend's family to pose?)
My Science is considered done to me, though all I did was get all the pics. I haven't organised them properly or stuck them in yet. Gotta get that done by tomorrow. I'm not doing Geo 'cause the teacher might tell us something different after the break. He's going to re-brief us on it.
My KH thing had to be re-done a couple of times, I didn't know the exact format. Not even now. The teacher told us biodata, then something about pasting our research next to it (citation needed, to quote wikipedia).
*
Note to some misguided people: I do not have a boyfriend. Male friends, no boyfriends.
*
Air Pressure confuses me slightly. I'm not very sure about it, but I probably understand it - I got all the answers right. I need to re-read it. I want to get on to dynamics, but all the project work is squeezing my poor study time away. I wanna learn loci! I wanna learn Bab 10 of Geo! I wanna finish chapter 6 of history! All my possessions for a moment of time - a la the Queen.
*
Back to jogging for me! Thursday is jogging day again. No heart palpitations this time.
The holidays are so close to finishing. Which is rather sad. I'll go practice for drama.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Strange Day
Carry You Home - James Blunt
Trouble is her only friend and he's back again.
Makes her body older than it really is.
She says it's high time she went away,
No one's got much to say in this town.
Trouble is the only way is down.
Down, down.
*As strong as you were, tender you go.
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,
I know what it means and I'll carry you home.
I'll carry you home.*
If she had wings she would fly away,
And another day God will give her some.
Trouble is the only way is down.
Down, down.
* to *
And they were all born pretty in New York City tonight,
And someone's little girl was taken from the world tonight,
Under the Stars and Stripes.
* to * x 2
I hate travelling. Carsickness, awkwardness, having to dress up, being away from home, not being able to do so many things without getting a complete headache... I'd much rather stay at home.
Today was a pretty suckish day, nyway. I realised how easy it was to hate myself.
Don't you give me that lecture about how we must all love ourselves and treasure our lives, yadayadaya. I do. It's just... sometimes I get on my own nerves, if you get my drift. I'm confusing myself. Anyway, a list of reasons to hate myself:
1. I'm selfish.
2. I'm rude.
3. I'm rebellious.
4. I'm a cry-baby.
5. I'm stupid - very much so when the occasion calls for it.
6. I'm stuck-up.
7. I'm dependant.
8. I'm irresponsible.
9. I'm desistant.
10. I'm a braggart.
11. I'm self-pitying.
12. I'm forgetful.
13. I'm self-distancing.
Okay, I'll stop there - it hurts me to talk about myself like that, even though it's true and gives me great satisfaction. I need to say 13 positive things about myself now, but I just can't think of any. Ah well, here's a short poem I composed earlier.
Smile
When the world cries, smile
For every broken heart, just smile
To brighten someone's day
'Cause while you're crying
Nursing your pains
Someone might be loving you
So even if you'd be lying
To say you're still sane
Smile, it's not that hard to do.
Concealing how you feel
Is not that big a deal
It's in fashion at the moment not to cry.
Each and every minute
Someone always does it
Let's pretend to smile our lives by.
And I know I'll regret posting this.
Trouble is her only friend and he's back again.
Makes her body older than it really is.
She says it's high time she went away,
No one's got much to say in this town.
Trouble is the only way is down.
Down, down.
*As strong as you were, tender you go.
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,
I know what it means and I'll carry you home.
I'll carry you home.*
If she had wings she would fly away,
And another day God will give her some.
Trouble is the only way is down.
Down, down.
* to *
And they were all born pretty in New York City tonight,
And someone's little girl was taken from the world tonight,
Under the Stars and Stripes.
* to * x 2
I hate travelling. Carsickness, awkwardness, having to dress up, being away from home, not being able to do so many things without getting a complete headache... I'd much rather stay at home.
Today was a pretty suckish day, nyway. I realised how easy it was to hate myself.
Don't you give me that lecture about how we must all love ourselves and treasure our lives, yadayadaya. I do. It's just... sometimes I get on my own nerves, if you get my drift. I'm confusing myself. Anyway, a list of reasons to hate myself:
1. I'm selfish.
2. I'm rude.
3. I'm rebellious.
4. I'm a cry-baby.
5. I'm stupid - very much so when the occasion calls for it.
6. I'm stuck-up.
7. I'm dependant.
8. I'm irresponsible.
9. I'm desistant.
10. I'm a braggart.
11. I'm self-pitying.
12. I'm forgetful.
13. I'm self-distancing.
Okay, I'll stop there - it hurts me to talk about myself like that, even though it's true and gives me great satisfaction. I need to say 13 positive things about myself now, but I just can't think of any. Ah well, here's a short poem I composed earlier.
Smile
When the world cries, smile
For every broken heart, just smile
To brighten someone's day
'Cause while you're crying
Nursing your pains
Someone might be loving you
So even if you'd be lying
To say you're still sane
Smile, it's not that hard to do.
Concealing how you feel
Is not that big a deal
It's in fashion at the moment not to cry.
Each and every minute
Someone always does it
Let's pretend to smile our lives by.
And I know I'll regret posting this.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
June!
Miss ya, Junebug, by the way.
So the mid years are done with, and people are relaxing..
While I'm making plans!
Of course, my world domination ideas are very private, and I will not open them for public perusal, or else I might get caught like Dr Horrible from Dr Horrible's Sing-along blog.
Just kidding.
Rather, I'm planning on how to be a stellar student, which is actually kinda fun - probably better than ruling the world. Imagine how I'd have to solve all those poverty and overpopulation problems! And then the environmental issues, the economic downturns, the unemployment rates, the epidemics, the crime rates, the desperate ploys for my crown... But I digress.
BACK TO THE TOPIC:
I've made a list of fixed daily activities - things I must routinely do. 'Lo behold!
1. Study (of course) a list of fixed subjects on school days, 30 minutes each.
2. Do notes.
3. Finish homework at school (except last period homework and folios).
And then some social stuff:
1. Watch my temper - a.k.a., don't yell too much. Be firm but don't let anyone ruin my day.
2. Compliment someone.
3. Go out of my way to do a chore or help someone.
And to top it all off, some quotes for good luck:
- Do or do not. There is no try. - Star Wars
- A goal not written is only a wish. - Proverb
- Character is the discipline to follow through with resolutions long after the spirit in which they were made has passed. - Proverb
- The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light
But stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing...
Good timber does not grow with ease
The stronger wind, the stronger trees.
- Douglas Malloch
- The risk of riskless living is the greatest risk of all - Sean Covey
- We have met the enemy, and he is us.
- People are just about as happy as they make up their minds to be. - Abraham Lincoln
Gonna write a story. See ya.
So the mid years are done with, and people are relaxing..
While I'm making plans!
Of course, my world domination ideas are very private, and I will not open them for public perusal, or else I might get caught like Dr Horrible from Dr Horrible's Sing-along blog.
Just kidding.
Rather, I'm planning on how to be a stellar student, which is actually kinda fun - probably better than ruling the world. Imagine how I'd have to solve all those poverty and overpopulation problems! And then the environmental issues, the economic downturns, the unemployment rates, the epidemics, the crime rates, the desperate ploys for my crown... But I digress.
BACK TO THE TOPIC:
I've made a list of fixed daily activities - things I must routinely do. 'Lo behold!
1. Study (of course) a list of fixed subjects on school days, 30 minutes each.
2. Do notes.
3. Finish homework at school (except last period homework and folios).
And then some social stuff:
1. Watch my temper - a.k.a., don't yell too much. Be firm but don't let anyone ruin my day.
2. Compliment someone.
3. Go out of my way to do a chore or help someone.
And to top it all off, some quotes for good luck:
- Do or do not. There is no try. - Star Wars
- A goal not written is only a wish. - Proverb
- Character is the discipline to follow through with resolutions long after the spirit in which they were made has passed. - Proverb
- The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light
But stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing...
Good timber does not grow with ease
The stronger wind, the stronger trees.
- Douglas Malloch
- The risk of riskless living is the greatest risk of all - Sean Covey
- We have met the enemy, and he is us.
- People are just about as happy as they make up their minds to be. - Abraham Lincoln
Gonna write a story. See ya.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
I knew it.
*bows at the feet of the blog* I solemnly and sincerely apologise to the Blue Apple blog and vow not to leave again without prior notice.
Sorry x99999999! Seriously, now. I completely forgot about my blog till that day my friend mentioned it to me.
Now, to the trueranting blogging!
This year, I'm taking part in drama and choir.
Fish.
I knew it was going to happen.
Guess what? Pn. S said, since the practices will clash (inevitably), I have to choose between the two. Now, let's see the merits and "non-merits" of each, shall we?
DRAMA
Background
- I tried to enter last year, but chess was held at the same time.
- They got number two last year.
This year
- They put me in, but my role isn't very important. I've got about 15 lines.
Views on it
- I'm not fond of the teachers.
- We're little more than 3 weeks away from the competition, but we haven't confirmed the roles yet. Which is utterly ridiculous. We confirmed it yesterday with Pn. R, but then Pn. S came today and confirmed a different cast. Confusion.
- I already memorised the script, which they have changed twice.
- The teacher cancelled some lines. The other teacher cancelled some other lines. The play is short. Wham.
- Since we're all friends, we can practice at each other's house.
CHOIR
Background
- I also tried to enter last year, but the only Form 1s chosen were Adrian and Lisha. Apparently, the teacher thought they had more commitment. They tried to quit, but failed.
- They got number two last year.
This year
- I got in. I was the only soprano who came for every practice last year.
Views on it
-Previously, I was the only one who knew the whole thing, but now we've finished learning the song.
- It's only our dynamics that have any trouble.
- We're a good team.
- We practice during school hours.
- I helped one of the new sopranos train, and now she knows the song already.
- We've only just finished the song. We haven't learnt the intro and finale.
It looks like choir might win, but drama = fun + already trained for. Plus, in choir, the voices meld, but in drama, one person can screw everything.
I've decided to ask Ms C if I can be a reserve for choir. Wish me luck.
Sorry x99999999! Seriously, now. I completely forgot about my blog till that day my friend mentioned it to me.
Now, to the true
This year, I'm taking part in drama and choir.
Fish.
I knew it was going to happen.
Guess what? Pn. S said, since the practices will clash (inevitably), I have to choose between the two. Now, let's see the merits and "non-merits" of each, shall we?
DRAMA
Background
- I tried to enter last year, but chess was held at the same time.
- They got number two last year.
This year
- They put me in, but my role isn't very important. I've got about 15 lines.
Views on it
- I'm not fond of the teachers.
- We're little more than 3 weeks away from the competition, but we haven't confirmed the roles yet. Which is utterly ridiculous. We confirmed it yesterday with Pn. R, but then Pn. S came today and confirmed a different cast. Confusion.
- I already memorised the script, which they have changed twice.
- The teacher cancelled some lines. The other teacher cancelled some other lines. The play is short. Wham.
- Since we're all friends, we can practice at each other's house.
CHOIR
Background
- I also tried to enter last year, but the only Form 1s chosen were Adrian and Lisha. Apparently, the teacher thought they had more commitment. They tried to quit, but failed.
- They got number two last year.
This year
- I got in. I was the only soprano who came for every practice last year.
Views on it
-Previously, I was the only one who knew the whole thing, but now we've finished learning the song.
- It's only our dynamics that have any trouble.
- We're a good team.
- We practice during school hours.
- I helped one of the new sopranos train, and now she knows the song already.
- We've only just finished the song. We haven't learnt the intro and finale.
It looks like choir might win, but drama = fun + already trained for. Plus, in choir, the voices meld, but in drama, one person can screw everything.
I've decided to ask Ms C if I can be a reserve for choir. Wish me luck.
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