Join me, won't you, as i wallow around in the shallow end?

Yesterday I met an old secondary school friend whom I haven't spoken to in an inexcusable 4 and a half years. Seeing her again was surreal, like how I would imagine touching a phantom limb would be like. It brought back a sudden gush of memories that I didn't know I had forgotten (which inexplicably, made me giddy with excitement). We had both changed ("so irrevocably" she said), but for the most part, I was glad to see her happy.
We all need little reminders now and then, that life is not a race. And in slowing down a little, it becomes clearer that the people we are around can still amaze us, in that most unexpected way.

This past month, I've read about 10 books (Twilight will not count). And I'm not sure what the point of all this hapless reading is. It's doesn't enrich my life in any tangible way, help my grades or my eyesight, or even give me something to laugh about. So Anna chose Vronsky, Pip loves Estella, Heathcliff dies tragically. It's like that one time, this guy I have yet to forgive said that what I'm doing is irrelevant. And right now, it's hitting a little too close to home.

Tomorrow I will be helping out at a children's nursery, where no doubt they would try to reach the boundaries of my patience. Irrelevant, huh.

the new normal and everything else

You may recall from earlier my unspeakably whiny complaints about how I miss Canberra. And I got abit of flak for it too, and I just want to clear it up. I don't particularly miss the place Canberra (there's not much to miss). But it's the feeling of independence, living in your own house, and studying purposefully toward what I want to be. There, boring as it is, my life appears to moves forward, and it just stalls during the holidays.
In response to my unexpected feelings of dislocation, someone told me, "be patient, there's no hurry." And I realized how true that was. But it has been incredibly rewarding meeting up with old friends. In particular a Mr Jackson, who I hadn't seen in a year, and also, hasn't been to town in a year.

I love buying presents. During the holiday season, I have pretty much been walking around endlessly looking for things to buy for people. This is an especially satisfying hobby for a vapid person who has her priorites all wrong. Incidentally, I bought a pair of boots on impulse, which makes me look like an elf ("You look like an elf," two people have remarked.) But I love it anyway. This year is probably the most I have ever spent on my family, and I have to admit it is overdue. So I'm pretty broke now, but I'm counting on my CNY receipts to finance my Taiwan trip.

Have you watched Twilight? I did. And I can understand why people are so crazy over it. But it makes me feel quite heartless, when I see two star-crossed lovers onscreen and my instant reaction was to roll my eyes. Just like Starlight. Then I went to read the books. Yes, all of them. It's expected that people would like them, but they were horrible for me. Trashy, young-adult mush. There's deep-rooted cynicism for you.

In some ways, me self-concept is still defined by inconsequential things - the books I read, the things I like, the places I belong to. There's a new one too - the way I present myself. I have never been chatty around people (with one glaring exception), but I've been comfortable with solitude. But I wonder sometimes, if I'm missing out on things like meeting new people, hanging out with friends, and instead doing things myself. Is this part of growing old? When you start to feel a disengagement from people. I just don't know.

I've been feeling a little unsettled about my grandparents these days. In particular my grandma, who is very dear to me. I know that, although she hides it well, she is somewhat fearful of death and it's unknown emptiness. Since I have returned, her age had been begun to show, subtly, but in ways I cannot ignore. Her aching legs, her heavy sighs, her wrinkly eyes. But it is this new look she has acquired, which had never been there before. Withdrawal, resignation, pain. I remind myself constantly that she is the same woman that chased me around the house to spank me, the same one that escaped and survived the Japanese, the same one that won a scholarship overseas. It's just that she hardly appears as the same person she once was, as if she's... wasting, in the battle against time. And she loves the baby, even more than I do, and I can feel her sense of loss knowing that she'll be missing out on the baby growing up. But anyhow, this is not a sob story I should vomit on you.

In other redirected news, the baby is clingy, I'm going to fish market tomorrow morning and meeting my PL friends after that, smelling like fish.

Later, folks.

Light.

the angel in the details, buried
beneath the sea inside
reaching, to the swirling waves.
"Forgive me, my love,"
for what could have been
anchoring the weightlessness of being.

Some words.

Haha I'm coming home tmr and I'll be seeing Zy first thing Sunday morning. I think I'm actually more excited about that than sushi and chompchomp.

Zy has been a fixture in my life these past few years and words cannot describe how grateful I am for her. She puts up with my tantrums, and always puts my messy thoughts in context. I love her for the way she is determined to help the people around her, and how she has simply brightened up my world. But I also know that although she doesn't show it much, she can be very vulnerable at times. Which is why I must say now, that any guy who doesn't appreciate her for who she is just doesn't deserve her.

Jas and Don are moving in today and darn it all, I'm excited. To be honest, sometimes I catch myself thinking "thank god for Jas". It's been a rough year for me, but her presence never fails to cheer me up. And Don. I just had a disorienting revelation about him a few days ago. Jas and I were in Koko Black when she explained to me about the time he went to meet her and her 3 friends and he actually brought his own coats for them without them asking because he "thought they might be cold". Which they were. And once again, I was left speechless. With luck, I would regain my speech by this afternoon when they arrive (God, woman, you're so lame. So Lame.)

In any case, I'm very thankful for this lot. Too often I have difficulty expressing how I feel, and it doesn't come out right, so I'm writing it down now, when it hopefully won't be forgotten.

Once more, with feeling!

Last exam tmr. Wish me luck.

Where does the time go?

It's Day 9 of my countdown to Singapore, and my spirit is officially broken. All around me people are leaving and celebrating. Well, shit on them.

Sometimes I hate taking International Relations and Psych here. I love it adoringly most of the time, but occasionally it becomes this love-hate relationship, the kind where you knock something up and you're forced to take responsibility for it forever but you love babies so maybe it's okay. Huh? What I mean is that just about every Asian here takes commerce/finance. And for once, it would be NICE to have someone (anyone) to talk to about the assignments or lectures. Everytime I go out with friends, they start talking about the their quizzes, some idiotic tutor or another and I'm sitting there having an imaginary conversation with myself in my head.

And last night, I realized I had developed this most annoying giggle. Like shrill, breathless and uncontrolled. It happens when something exceedingly funny and unexpected happens. The first time it appeared was when someone randomly commented on my hands, and out it spouted like vomit on a drunkard. And it re-emerged again last night, when the waiter at Taj Mahal guessed my order. I was so amused that I produced the most girly, disgusting sound ever. You have to kill me now.
(ETA: On second thought, don't kill me. A tight, polite slap would do. Thank you. You're a good friend.)

I have an exam tmr, so I'm off to casually browse through my notes. Bye.

So, so bored.

So I'm sitting here in the Fenner Comp Labs at, geez, 4 am in the morning. Nothing like a little isomnia to mess up a good sleepover, I tell you what.

Anyway, my sleep hours have been a little crazy. I blame it on my housemates, who both sleep at the crack of daybreak like the otaku and mugger they are respectively. You see, Housemate A is in his graduating year and he has already got a pretty great job. So really, the rest of his time here, he spends drinking coffee with friends, watching anime and playing with his iphone. But he is a nice guy, who willingly chauffeurs (the word "chauffeurs" is looking weird to me. That is the right word, right, for an ahmad? Chauffeurs chauffeurs chauffeurs. It looks weird.) me around and cooks dinner for me sometimes. Housemate A comes over to chat in the morning for a few hours, hence me sleeping when he leaves, ie 6 am.
Housemate B, oh housemate B. God. I have nothing left to say.

Right, anyways. It is the exam period now, and I want to die from all the killer assignments. I have 2 take-homes, and 3 exams, all of which ensure I am the last person on the face of this earth to end my exams. But in all fairness, everyone is pretty stressed out. My good buddy Jas has 3 exams and a 3000 word take-home paper and she's doing Law. Which probably means I won't see her again for a long while. Don, who is takes IT (I tell him it's the most poorly-funded faculty in the ANU and it pisses him off. It's quite funny.) has an assignment which is counted by the lines. What a joke. But why am I telling you about exams. Let's talk about something else.

Like how I'll be back Nov 22nd! Nov 22nd!! And the exams in NUS should be over in a week. So how can we not meet up? We can't. Not meet up. So meet me. Good. It's stuff like this that make me miss Singapore like crazy.

Nov 22nd! :D

Nostalgia is a dangerous emotion.

I need to say something. Something personal.

I miss my old room. Haha! See now, it wasn't anything special but just something that occurred to me. I bet you thought I was going to say something wildly inappropriate. Too bad!

Anyhoo. My room was renovated a few months back. I wish it wasn't because I was so happy with the old one. But it's gone now, and in its place is a pale, bland shadow of my memories (I call the new room "Where Dreams Go To Die"). Things change, and I have been trying to accept that. When the past has been good, it's hard to move forward knowing that your future is so different and bland (like salty soggy vegetables, I like to think). And because it's not alright now, I know I have to work harder to settle things. Even adjusting to that godless hole I'm coming home to.

And just know that I'm thinking of you all, while I clean my room and slog through my exams wishing you could do them in my place.

Haha!

Sidenote: cute guys rock sweaters.

There is no arguement. Some guys can pull off a sweater like nobody's business. Like this tutor for one of my silly courses who is famously prone to rambling. He wears a grey checkered sweater but once and I swear, everyone perks up and all is forgiven. Guys can be really cute if they try sometimes, just a little.

That's all.

I'm back. Oh shit.

I know it's been awhile since I last blogged. Because, you guys, I have joined a cult. The cult of laziness, if you will.

Okay. Actually the truth is I kept meaning to post, but kept getting waylaid by other stuff. Like emotional blackholes, assignments, the US elections etc. And the passage of time built this enormous pressure to post an amazing post, about me discovering the meaning to life or meeting Michael Cera (whom I had a dream about having an illicit on-set romance with). And then, I thought "who reads this crap anyway, I'll just do what I want", and then I went to watch some TV and now I'm here writing.

So yeah, the elections. I have been obssessing about it for the past few months and I would like, stay up late and get up early to read more articles on it. On Obama, Ayers, Biden, McCain, Palin, Keating. And I have thus acquired zero knowledge about anything else, except maybe that stupid Indian dorm in Serangoon Gardens and abit about rock music. I'm irrelevant, that way.

More later.

Oneliness.

It always seems to spring out of nowhere to catch you unaware. It happens when your primary sources of love gradually disappear. A relationship is fufilling, but when it's gone, it can be a huge source of stress. Friendships too seem to dissipate over time, even the ones you believed to be as solid as it could get. But I guess we all live and we all learn. That sometimes you need to be able to draw strength from others as well.

I realized that these days, I'm loneliest around people. By myself, things are emptier and less complicated. Friends here are truly great company, but they provide a different sort of understanding. Something monumentally serious happened over the past few weeks, that I'm not able to tell anyone. And holding on to this dark secret is mentally and emotionally draining. Which was why I finally broke down last night and cried helplessly down the phone to my dad. He decided to come over to Canberra for a week (and I'm darn excited, despite it all) and we will go to Sydney for the weekend.

P.S. And just how awesome was Dark Knight.

When enough is enough is enough.

There was this time in Kindergarten when I peed my pants, did I mention? Some kid named Marcus bit the teacher, and I laughed till I lost bladder control. The kid was complaining about being hungry or something, and the teacher was trying very hard to pacify him till break time, while the rest of us were doing totally-for-sure quiet, good-kid stuff. Then I think he finally couldn't take it and took a bite out of the teacher's arm.
And I laughed. Like a HAHAHAHAH stop-I-can't-breathe sort of laugh.
And I pee my pants.
And I don't mean a few, polite drops of liquid. It was literally, the worst-case scenario of awe-inspiring incontinence. It was soaking my underwear, and I could feel it drip down my leg onto the tiled flooring. And it was Loud.
So I did what any intelligent, rational kid would do in my case. I laughed even louder and more awkwardly to hide out the suspicious, dripping noises. I was panicky and fearful about what was going to happen, but fortunately (or unfortunately), noone actually noticed till about 10 minutes later. So yes, for 10 minutes, I was sitting there colouring normally, stewing in my own breathtaking dumbness.

That is somewhat how I'm feeling today. Usually I feel indignant, weak, lost, lonely, humiliated, angry, confused, spent. But for a very short while now I feel like maybe this time I can finally stop moping and indulging in my own misery and self-focused brooding. And really, all I had to do was share my most humiliating story with the entire internet.

Coping.

It was my twentieth birthday a few days ago, and I celebrated this long-awaited, momentous occasion by giving up and ditching my good friend in Cambodia, getting stranded 8 hours alone at the airport and crying relentlessly on the plane. I never knew myself to be so impulsive, emotional and defensive. Breaking up is such a strange foreign feeling. Like losing a big part of yourself to a stranger.
I suppose this explains the recent bout of self-loathing. I walk around aimlessly trying to get out of a imaginary rut. I try to change as much of myself as possible, from my hair to my clothes and to some extent, even the people I hang out with. Why am I so lost. Find me.
I don't regret what I had done, because in the long-run it was the right thing to do for both of us. But it doesn't make it any less difficult. My head can rationalise every feeling, every thought, every urge to turn back. But my feelings just rebel against such distant objective analysis, and I'm right back where I started.

I shall have to be less soppy soon. Classes are starting and I've been neglecting my friends, who still try to make me feel better despite everything (and alcohol does help a little). I know I can't just wait for myself to feel better. There's a person I have to be, and things that need to be done. I know.

Yeah yeah, my heart's in a whirl!

A really shitty thing happened last week that you don't need to know about. It's been one of those horrible weeks that just drags on and on and never really gets any better until you get so sick and tired of listening to your own damn whining. So yes, I will spare you from the brunt of my own damn whining, and just tell you about a few small happy shiny parts of this week.

1. The house is settled. Woohoo! We don't have to huddle in the streets with the other hobos! SCORE.
2. Exams were alright so far. (And well, I slipped a few coins into my scripts, just in case)(Geez Rachel, how full of crap you are sometimes.)
3. I did speak to my sister a few days ago. She's too cute for words. My dad was telling me how she had drawn a person with a sad face in school. And how she also drew a chicken drumstick. Which I think translates to how sorry she feels for the chickens. Or she's sad that we don't feed her enough.
4. I've been playing my guitar. (Three is the atomic number of Lithium, Kurt Cobain)
5. I'm coming back in two weeks! Ah, the food I am going to devour. I should just camp at the hawker centre.

The clock says it's 5.13am now. Birds are starting to chirp, and I think they're saying "Holey moley, is her light still on?" It's like that feeling how sometimes the things around you just seem to happen and happen.

It has not been easy.

My fat, lying ass.

Right, so I haven't updated in awhile, mainly because my classes were killing me. Okay, far from it, but I have been besieged with horrible assignments which has taken up most of what putrid little time I have left. It's mostly Psych essays, and OMG how disgusting can they get. I told myself after the fiasco of last semester I would buckle down and WORK. But it's like the universe is always out to prove me wrong. Psych essays are SCIENCE essays. So basically you need tables, hypotheses, stats and no opinion of your own. I had to do TWO of those bastards. I know I sound angry when I whine like that, but now that that's over, we can move on.

I cannot tell you how strange my life here has been lately. But let's not talk about that. The point is, I really appreciate the emails and phone calls from my friends and family. You cannot even imagine how for a few moments in the day, my heart can feel so full. And how even the little things have helped me more than I can say. (And yet, I'm equally as sad as before. This sounds mathematically impossible I know, but my emotions have never been good at maths.)

Have I mentioned how boring a place Canberra is? No, I haven't changed my mind. But in a way, it leaves time for alot of other things. Like ktv competitions, basketball matches, WALKING to the movies. This place is growing on me. And so are some people. Sometimes I think there are two types of people in the world. The ones who should settle for what they have and learn to appreciate it, and the ones who shouldn't. And I had always egoistically classified myself in the latter. But lately, certain decisions I had made have indicated perhaps, I am as weak as I feared. I don't regret those decisions, because they were the best that I could have made at that point in time, but knowing what I know now, and continuing in that wrong direction is just plainly pathetic. I like Canberra, but occasionally the stillness of life here makes you obssess over the details.

A little happier, these days.

The Last Instalment (if only).

So where we last left off, the girl had, against her rational judgement, decided to give it a try. And in some ways, it overwhelmed her. They hung out like they used to, maybe more, and she had a wonderful time. She had Never opened up that easily to anyone before. She, not yet sure of who she is or what she wants, started to hang out more in his room than her own, and unconsciously define herself as "B's girlfriend", instead of "me". She liked him alot, for his easygoing humour and familiar habits, and he seemed to be the only one there vaguely able of filling the massive hole she was feeling inside her. She knew how unfair it was to just seek comfort in that relationship, but she stubbornly persisted, convinced that what was not there could be developed. But gradually, selfishly even, she started noticing details in a person she could not reconcile with herself. She tried to appreciate him for who he is - a funny, charismatic guy who always looked out for her. But why couldn't he understand her? Why couldn't he be more like what she needed? She grew frustrated. His smile always seemed a little brighter when he was talking to someone else. She grew possessive.
But one day, she chanced upon the music room again, and she played the only song she knew how. And for a few short moments, she found herself again. Her head finally cleared. He was not the one. And she, with all the false bravado she could muster, made the break.

Heart, we will try.

It's funny. How different she felt from a month ago. She left home, bright-eyed and eager, only to reach a stage now where she wonders if it's possible for her maturity to regress. It's strange, she thought, how she had always defined herself by the things and people around her, and still lacked any clear idea of herself. But here, she gives herself unnecessary leeway, and allows herself to swept up for the sake of it. She misses her silly friends, and her silly family, which sometimes provokes her into being someone she is not. Childish and shallow. But maybe that's who she really is under it all.

A little confused, over here.

So, hypothetically. There’s a Beng (let’s call him B), living two doors down from this girl. And she’s been hanging out with him ALOT. He makes her laugh, like insanely. Not in the way she’s used to, but still in a nice, slapstick way. Which she misses, since all her friends are in a faraway land, and seem to be leading their own lives. B seemed sincere when he said he liked her. And she likes him too, although she’s unsure if it's just for comfort or companionship. The girl has always been a moody girl. Neurotic and a little judgmental. Which sometimes makes it hard for her to talk to other people. But with B, this problem doesn’t exist. She opens up easily, and she loves the fact that there are no awkward silences when they hang out (although she had sometimes imagined herself with someone who could debate politics and music with her.) But no matter. He’s a nice guy. She even tried to reject him once, but after seeing his reaction, she started to tear a little, which she had been so sure she had forgotten how to do. Things are ambiguous now, and she is inclined to give it a shot. Part of her feels it’ll be a mistake, and that part seems to grow a little each time he is unnecessarily nice to her. But she feels safe when he hugs her, and glad when he makes a funny face when he walks past her window. Maybe that’s all a relationship should be about. Hugs and funny faces.

Back in the real world, I went to Skyfire. Which is a thirty minute showcase of fireworks at the lake, and it was alot of fun. Have you ever watched Land of the Dead? It's like that, when the zombies all stop eating humans for a few short minutes and gaze hypnotically at the lights, with drool flowing out of their mouths. That night, I had a dream that I was taking a Shower, and I put shampoo on my hair before my hair was wet. No doubt there's a zombie drooling on top of my head at night.

I'll be honest here, I don't know when the next post is going to be. Because I'm going to the beach this Easter and I am determined to squish my toes in the sand. Aiyy. That's what getting caught up does to you.

Lucky you: I was actually going to write another horribly perky entry.

Hi, it's me again. So I moved into my new hall last week. And, uh, yeah. Nothing much else has been going on. The food is good, the place is still foreign but I'm happier I guess. The people have been pretty nice too. And this is the part I proclaim my lack of social grace. Quick! Run while you still can! They have mostly been quite welcoming. I'm just not sure where I fit in. Am I that socially challenged. I hate being so weak. Always waiting around for something better, needing to ask someone for help. Why can't I cope myself? But neither could I forego all social interaction and just be by myself. I'm a little fed up. That's about it, really. It's, hmm, sunny outside too. Which is nice.

I get serious urges to write sometimes. It somehow makes my perspective seem a little more real. Like there's actually a purpose behind all the meaningless things around. But who am I writing for? I have this notebook of scribblings which will never see daylight, so maybe it's for some imaginary people in my head. Though I'm pretty sure that's one step away from Schizophrenia.

Yes, I do realize how silly I sound right now. And I give you permission to judge me... now. No, wait. Okay, now.

Perspective.

I’ve always loved Chinese New Year because wherever you go, people will always have food welcoming. The lovely little pineapple tarts and the sugar-induced madness! Goodness, I am still trembling uncontrollably from the sugar! Exclamation! I must have eaten at least a dozen in each house, and OH MY GOD MY HEART. It can’t take so much sweet, sugary love. But I was so happy! So happy, that now I am trying to find the right keys on the keyboard thing but it’s hard because my hands are a blur! This shaking... It'll burn calories though, right? Right.

Could you tell I was overly nervous meeting my relatives? The night before judgement day, my heart was racing. I kept thinking of my cousins, and how we could never be friends. Like Japan and the whales! Frodo and the One Ring! Rugby and the Superbowl! I was fighting off sleep so they wouldn’t come and steal my brain. About an hour of frantic worrying later, I accidentally fall asleep. Only to be awoken at eight by my heart racing at breakneck speed. My parents were concerned (just because), but I was furious. You don’t get it, I shouted! I’m going to crack under their severe scrutiny!

Finally, after much weeping and cursing and demanding that God explain why I had to go, I was swept off hither to their houses. And lo! They took one look at me and said, well, hello, distant relative! You’re early! (That may not have been their exact words. Maybe.) My cousin Sarah started the “How’s Australia?” initiative, which was nice. And they watched me inhale their pineapple tarts with general wonder. In any case, I have never been so relaxed around them. Sarah is taking Sports Medicine at UWA, Andrea is in Perth volunteering, Esther wants to be a Child Psychologist, David plays the bass, and even Uncle Paul’s speeches on the nefarious nature of gambling did nothing to lessen my mood (which normally would probably have made me incoherent with rage.)

And because I was so wired from the sugar, I couldn’t sleep that night, and I wondered if it’s time to wind up this little ditty of a blog. There’s nothing much to talk (or bitch) about, except maybe my cookies (you’ll be surprised how many ways a cookie can go wrong. You would think that as long as you don’t forget the sugar, or replace the butter with petrol, everything will fall into place obediently. HA.) But sometimes, I find myself narrating my life like an inner monologue (in third person!) “She lay in bed bitching about the sorry state of her life, while imagining falling asleep on millions of scurrying tiny bedbugs.” Or “occasionally she feels like she’s too selfish to ever love anyone more than herself.” I don’t know, blogging has made me aware of how I always seem to be on the edge. Maybe it’s just the cupfuls of sugar coursing through my veins. We’ll see.

It’s one week from my departure day to Aussie, and I can’t help feeling a little excited. Not so much for that hateful, hateful plane ride, but being by myself again, and actually getting something done. I’m exhausted. But you know what I could really go for right now? A pineapple tart.

Of London and a shiny, happy fit of rage.

I was dreaming that I was in London. One minute I was the airport, the other I was sitting on a shitty thirteen-hour flight to Heathrow. That’s strange, I thought. And I hopped off the plane, and headed to Euston, where I stayed at an overpriced hotel with my mom (my mom is in this dream too, because she has business meetings to attend to here, and who else would pay the bill?) Then the next day, while she met up with her colleagues, I went to Buckingham Palace to visit the Queen and her many ducks.

I also went to visit St. Paul’s Cathedral, which was beautiful. And for a short while at least, I was convinced I wasn’t by myself.

Afterward, everyone met up for dinner at Rules, the supposed oldest restaurant in London. It was a very classy restaurant, and I was quite impressed, till the manager proclaimed proudly that King George used to bring his mistress here! (Oooh, the scandal!)(To which I found excessively funny.) We ate in the Charles Dickens Room, where I realized how fun my mom’s colleagues were. Her boss is so cool. He even taught me how to appreciate wine. So turns out, London is a pretty cool place (pun not only intended, but planned.)

So it is a week later, and I’m back home. And I have to revolve my unremitting guilt from hiding this marvelous thing from you. There is this unspeakably cool movie that is coming out. That’s right, it’s Juno. And the sheer awesomeness of that movie is mind-bottling. I do realize this is almost a shameless plug toward consumerism, but go watch it. Go on. I’ll wait right here.

Zy came over last night, and she made the almost-fatal mistake of bringing up politics in our conversation. I don’t know why, but talking about music, politics or religion just gets me all riled up. I was this close to screaming and shaking her. I don’t want to think about it. (Liar! I wanted to know exactly what I could have said to change her camp from Clinton to Obama. Not only have I been obsessing about it, I have been inviting others to argue with me.) And I just couldn’t let it go. Because 1) I can’t let anyone go by believing Clinton would be a good president, and 2) I know I’m right, and that happens all the time. Because I know my relatives at Chinese New Year are judging, always judging. They get together at the end of it all and mock my political choices. Yeah, that’s right, just politics. I know how it goes.

In conclusion, don’t bring up politics during the New Year. And just avoid me like the plague this festive period. You’ll thank me later.

It was really (really) nice to finally get Pee-Ay-Eye-Dee.

I have really lousy wireless from my room. It’s actually fine from downstairs but I was just too darn lazy to be anywhere but my room then. But after restlessly walking around in circles, twiddling my thumbs and wearing down the parquet, I figured it was God’s way of telling me to stop hanging around the house and GET OUT THERE. So I spent the entire afternoon sampling large globs of ice cream at B and J’s where Terry is working. I’m sure that’s what He meant.

Anyway, I quit my job. Every morning for the past two weeks, I would whine and sob into my cereal, and give dirty looks to my poor sister. “Kids these days,” I would mutter. Bluuugh I hated my work. Not that kids aren’t fun to hang around with because under normal circumstances, they are simply awesome. But having a group of fifteen excited and distracted kids together is exhausting. And I’m sorry for being greedy, because I know I can be, but the pay didn’t provide much encouragement to carry on either. It is one week on now, and I miss the kids (just a little). Even Riana. Who cried for three hours, which inevitably made the other kids cry too. Good times. Hello, I got off track. As I was saying, the kids were fantastic. Especially this kid named Jeanine who could COLOUR BETWEEN THE LINES. Honestly, that alone almost made me want to sob with hysterical joy. It was fun, but I’m secretly glad it’s over (shhh).

I have also been baking a lot lately (quick, somebody stop me!) And gosh this is such a cute story. My aunt asked me to bake something for church, so I decided to bake some banana and chocolate muffins (I know, how original of me). I baked about 50, and my mom cheerfully carried them off to church. Next thing I know, before the main congregation got a chance to try the muffins, they were all eaten. Yea, the 10 ushers who were in charge of the snacks had eaten over 40 muffins. Those pigs. They were really sorry afterward and my mom was a little miffed, but it was still pretty funny to me.

Meanwhile, I met up with my PL friends, my SA friends, and made some new ones, from my new hall in Aussie. My burgeoning belief in my social ineptitude aside, it has been an awesome period. I doubt this idyllic lifestyle will last for long, so I’m taking this chance to hang out with my friends and family, probably till they are so sick of me they will just bubble-wrap me and ship me off to Canberra. Also, I have been hanging out with Zy almost everyday, and she deserves special mention for putting up with my brattiness. She’s an incredibly busy person, and the fact she is willing to spend her precious free time with my obnoxious complaints about unfair bosses, hot weather and bad music just shows what a nice person she is. That and how annoying I am.

Sigh.

Getting my sister suited up and marinated in sugar just in time for preschool.

To herald the death of the old year and the arrival of the new, I’ve put some serious thought into creating a list of new year’s resolutions (for real, this time). But before that, let me say how into Bruce Springsteen I am right now. I don’t know why MTV or the damn radio isn’t playing his music. It’s like they are the king in “Braveheart” playing that RnB rubbish and trying to convince us that prima nocta is cool. Which incidentally, leads me to my first resolution.
1. Be less judgemental when it comes to people’s music choices. In fact, I may just take a line or two from zealous ex-girlfriends and persuade people to listen to better music by crying and threatening to kill myself. No doubt RnB lovers would point to this blog as the reason why the world is better off without Led Zeppelin, just like how the Al Qaeda shows “E!” to recruit people to bomb the Western world.

In other news, my baking is out of control. Yesterday alone I made two loaves of white bread and a giant almond crumb cookie. Also, when people ask me what I put in the cookies, I say I use a random premix from NTUC, ha ha ha! I’m kidding, of course - I only use the premix joke to trick people into thinking my cookies are safe. After which I shout “Sucka!” at them and tell them I actually baked it from scratch and incidently have they renewed their insurance signed the indemnity form on the way in? What I was trying to say is, I aim to

2. Bake less. Baking can get really pricey when you’re really into it. But baking stuff for people is like what Africa is to Bono. (Sure, I understand that Bono is a better musician than I am a baker, but the trade-off is I don’t fritter my conversations with sanctimonious speeches. I mean, I may even have to think twice about sitting next to him at a dinner party because I’ll probably be like Heaven Forfend!, here comes a dissertation on the UN. What does The Edge do anyway?)
3. Read more. This does not include Rolling Stone, Q, the comic section of Life!, and hell if I read Persuasion another time. The new year indicates a fresh start for changing the humiliatingly small number of books I have read this year to just embarrassingly small.

Also, here is a picture of my sister, on her first day of school. Ah, they grow up so fast.
4. I heretofore resolve to be more patient with her. But just for kicks, let me tell you how much of a challenge taking her photo is. “Okay. I need you to put the food down below your face. Okay. Now. Look at me and smile. Grace! Smile! Baby? Look at me! Okay. Smile. Can you look at me and smile? Okay. That's it. Good. Look at me! Okay…”
5. And lastly, I’m going to learn Spanish and the guitar by any means necessary. Even if it means leaving no time to shower and comb my hair. YES, this time it’s SERIOUS.

And there you have it. The year has been started with a bang, a whimper and a poorly-aimmed whiz.