Wednesday, 29 February, 2012

Meteor Rainfalls

Things are radically different now.

For one, I find myself surrounded by a population half constituted by males instead of the "all female with the random male teacher thrown in" profiles I've been around in RGSS. It makes for some rather interesting classroom entertainment (because, seriously, the guys have this strange, inexplicable tendency to embarrass their fellow male classmates), if you're not averse to them bouncing about like monkeys on drugs. Personally I think they're weird, but hey, that's just me.

One of the most disturbing things I noted was that girls don't seem to know how to conduct themselves -- especially when sitting. Some sit on chairs with their legs crossed as if the chair was the hall floor, others propping their legs on their other knee and baring their thighs wide apart. It wouldn't have mattered so much if their skirts weren't as short as Singapore is small compared to Russia. It's so indecent I don't even know where to begin. Perhaps I'm just being a stuffy prude, but I'd like to keep my legs closed, thank you very much.

Homework isn't too difficult, unlike what I was expecting -- perhaps only so because I'd been hearing horror stories about JC life. Whatever the case is, lectures are boring to the point of having levelled up their "put students to sleep" ability until they achieved "spontaneous slumber."

It is super effective.

Especially in Biology lectures.

Now I'm not saying that the lecturers don't know what they're talking about. What I'm more concerned with is that while I know that I don't know the content, I somehow can't seem to stay awake. Perhaps the lectures are dry, perhaps something about note taking just strikes me the wrong way, but damn it, there has to be some way of getting through a Biology lecture without nearly succumbing to Morpheus, who for some reason finds me unreasonably attractive during lectures and wishes me to join him in his realm.

So, here I am, being tempted (quite successfully, I might add) to marry myself off to Morpheus and live happily ever after in his land of forever slumber, with a terribly boring life to keep up with when I am awake. My choice should be pretty clear, but things can't always be as I wish them, and hence I am stuck with my continued existence in this plane of consciousness that does nothing but bore me and further screw up the mechanisms in my brain my insisting that I process more information than my poor grey matter is willing to.

Friendships between myself and someone else within my class are pretty much non-existent at the moment, most likely due to my detachedness and markedly icy countenance with every attempt at class bonding instigated by either the Civics tutor or some class effort.

I am not one for socialising, you must realise. I am incredibly awkward around strangers, especially those who try to include me in everything. If you want to get to know me, just be there, don't talk too much, don't ask too much, don't try to get me involved in anything. With time, I will warm up to you (whoever you are) and will learn to appreciate your company.

For now, though, things are still rather lukewarm. There are some people who are, in my opinion, trying too hard to get me involved, and others who look on and don't know what to think of my two-faced attitudes. Even I myself don't know what to make of my reactions, much less people who don't even know me.

I'm learning to welcome the presence of those trying to get to know me instead of merely tolerating their efforts (that, at best, I can only appreciate the intent but not the way they went about doing it, because I'm not your average student and I don't bond over sports), and I find this gratifying since I'm going to have to spend 2 years with them.

It's probably going to be painful if I were to endure 2 years of people tip-toeing around me simply because I don't give them the right impression off the bat.

Go slow, don't rush, let me come to accept you. If you push, I will distance myself. Let me come to you instead, don't make me claustrophobic with your efforts, don't be someone you're not. I'm not a pleasant person to people I hardly know, and you may not appreciate my brand of sarcastic humour once I'm comfortable enough around you to unleash it, and if you find yourself deterred by these, then you aren't going to enjoy being my friend. We'll settle for acquaintances.

Sometimes things develop differently and we get to know each other by rather unconventional means. That's fine. Just don't expect me to hug and hold hands like a good RGSS girl. Abstinence of hugs has been my modus operandi since Year 1; I don't do casual contact.

I don't like people interrupting my rhythm and plans. Stay out of my way, smile a little, and maybe I'll decide that you aren't just one of those people who want to involve me in the class just to show that you can. I'm not a tool for you to practise your people skills on. Go find someone more average.

...okay, I don't know how it devolved into a rant about my expectations of people and the way they treat me, but whatever. There's my rant, there's my personal discourse, take it or leave it.

Tuesday, 13 December, 2011

Vulcan Salute

I honestly can't remember a time I couldn't do that. Ever since I tried it it's been as easy for me as breathing.

If you're feeling kind of lost right now, the Vulcan Salute is a hand sign originating from an alien species, "Vulcan", in a series called "Star Trek".

It's pretty simple to do in theory. Simply hold out your hand as if to indicate "stop", press your pinky to your ring finger and your index finger to your middle finger without compromising the space between your ring and middle fingers. Try it if you're feeling particularly smug about the dexterity in your hand. Heck, try it with your feet even (I can't do that, by the way, but then again my toes can barely separate from each other).

...it seems that I am a pretty rare type of human. Some people can do it after intense practice, others find it impossible for them if they try anything short of tying the appropriate fingers together. I think the general consensus is that it is not impossible, but highly improbable that anyone should be able to successfully demonstrate the Vulcan Salute on their first try.

Well, I live to defy.

Anyway, this was brought up by my recently renewed interest in Star Trek. I loved (and still love) the series, although I must admit that the special effects when the series was first aired in the 1960s were that close to making me tear my eyes out from their...lack of sophistication. I can't really imagine how that particular season managed to win "best effects" at some awards ceremony.

Then again, 1960s. The people then probably had rather...ah, low expectations of their special effects specialists. I'd imagine that technology advancements gave our modern TV films their much deserved advantage in "wow" and realism factor.

As odd as it is for me to open my first post in half a year with my opinions about the Vulcan Salute, I find it oddly suitable. At least, suitable when I'm trying to convince myself that I'm indeed set apart -- in some marginally enviable way. I can't fathom anybody getting jealous over my eyebrows.

I am human, after all, I like to have something that is (even just minutely) sought after. Like my ability to do the Vulcan Salute first time trying. I didn't actually realise that it could be so hard for others to do it. I just did it, went on my merry way, and forgot all about it until I read up in a Star Trek article on-line that the Vulcan Salute was so difficult to do on the spot that many actors had to arrange their hands before being filmed. I...thought it was funny.

What? Can't I find something like that funny to boost my ego? It's pretty bruised right now, you know. I've been reading quite a number of fantastically written fan fictions and I'm wondering if I'll ever reach that level of skill in my writing. I mean, I'm fairly certain that I am above average but I am not completely certain. It would be nice to have proof.

And now you must be wondering why I'm being envious of writing skills instead of artistic prowess. I must admit that I enter a lull stage during the holidays. I don't tend to draw quite as much when I'm sitting in front of a computer and have an entire world (of fan fictions) to explore out there via the Internet. I'm just a little fickle-minded about my interests like that. I haven't painted anything digitally in months. I'm kinda itching to do something, but I don't know what, and I don't know if my abilities will be able to help me carry it through to completion. I tend to abandon projects halfway if I do not have adequate motivation to sustain my interest.

No, wanting to paint for the sake of painting is not interest enough. I should probably have something like...a project to finish to make me rush to finish something. I need a healthy dose of urgency to get anything done, I guess. I don't like pressure, but sometimes I think I need it.

Well, I do have a book cover to paint, but I'm not quite sure when my commissioner needs it done by...

If anyone wishes for an update about my trip to the US (specifically the states of California and Nevada), you'll have to ask me personally. I haven't typed a ridiculously long blog post in ages and my fingers need time to break in to the habit again. Ugh, my knuckles are kind of punishing me right now.

You'll have to pardon me if I come across as easy to set off when we next meet. I've been experiencing a series of unfortunate events lately, the least of which include a cut that had me freaked out because it caused the flesh within one centimetre of it to swell for half an hour before subsiding. The cut is only about .3 centimetres long, for goodness' sake! You know what else? I got it while changing bedsheets. I don't know how I accomplished that, and honestly, I don't want to know. I must be the first person to get what looks like a paper cut while pulling sheets over beds. Fantastic.

Besides, my flesh has never really swelled around any cuts before so this one had me really afraid. I thought it was infected with some fast-acting bacteria. For those thirty minutes I contemplated that I might die.

Oh, I also contemplated my own death on an aeroplane on the way to the States. There was this one point during the flight when the turbulence managed to upset my cup and in-flight meal. It also managed to upset my heart rhythm, which was admittedly much more terrifying that overturned food. I really couldn't find the mind to think about food when I was facing the very real possibility of dying before my holiday began (the "before my holiday began" part wasn't what was bothering me, just for the record -- it was the dying part).

There, you have my mind in a nutshell. My day is so boring I can't even begin to express how...utterly uneventful it is.

Perhaps I should blog more often about my internal monologues. Seems fun, somehow, and it will mean the promise of more frequent updates. I don't tend to feel like updating about my day because, now that I think about it, it's pretty personal, and I devolve into hideously long rants without further prompt whenever I recount anything. The last thing we all need is a ten-mile long blog post.

Monday, 2 May, 2011

General Elections 2011: The Shrinking Minority

I am part of a shrinking minority - the minority of youths who will vote for the People's Action Party (PAP).

I am 16 this year, still studying in school, and for some reason, finding myself to be unexpectedly more than simply aggitated by the growing number of youths who are blindly voting for the opposition parties.

I have two minds about this trend. I want to pay PAP back and have them win this election so that they can strengthen their hold over Singapore to show what they can do and sway future votes to them, but at the same time I want the opposition to win, and then do a horrendous job of governing the nation so that PAP will be voted back into power, unanimously, unopposedly.

Singaporeans need to know what PAP can and will do for them. I confess to be biased, because I have been benefitting under this PAP umbrella. I live a fulfilling life, I have a family, friends, loved ones. I have probably lived in cotton candy for the entire of my life. I have enjoyed benefits of PAP's policies, and there will be some policies that will never affect me, such as the mandatory National Service (NS) for all (fit) Singaporean men.

I confess to be in love with the PAP, partly due to brainwashing by the "newly" introduced Social Studies lessons in school, and partly due to my own discretion. I am, however, a little unnerved by the high-and-mighty attitude that they give off, especially good old Harry Lee Kuan Yew (LKY, as we affectionately call him). There was one comment he made which made it to the Saturday Straits Times which really annoyed me, PAP supporter or not.

I am surprised by just how obsessed I am with this party. I have never known myself to be so involved with such political issues. I have never known myself to be such a staunch supporter of the PAP. I just thought I was someone who would be objective about things like these. I...don't know what to say about this new revelation. However, now that I know this, I am not going to try to change it.

I have read extensively on this year's General Elections, and I am very fearful for Singapore's future. As far as I know, 50% of all voters this year will be first time voters, with a large number of them youths who are opposition fanatics. I have tried, believe me, to see what is so good in the opposition that garnered the empathy of people like me (or even people older, and supposedly wiser, than me). I didn't succeed, apparently. I would like to believe that this is because there isn't anything in them that would prosper Singapore, but their tongues.

I love Singapore. This, I have always known, and will never regret. I am shamelessly patriotic, this I will admit. Singapore loved me back and gave me the bed of roses (sans thorns) that I sleep on. Singapore is more than just another country to me. She is my home. Nothing will ever be like her. Everything that I love is with her. I am hopelessly, undeniably, in love with my homeland, and therefore I want the best for her (and by selfish extension, myself). I don't want to see Singapore fall into the hands of undeserving government, to be destroyed after having been built up by sweat, blood, and tears. I cannot just stand by and watch while her fate may just spiral down into no return. I am frustrated at my inability to vote. Why can't I vote? I resent myself for not being 21. I want to be able to shape her future. I detest myself for being helpless.

These are my reasons for supporting the PAP, none of them baseless, I assure you, but still bias, as you can see.

1) They have served us for so many years, and they have served us well. When Singapore was nothing more than a newly orphaned child, discarded and unwanted by Malaysia, PAP cried with her. But they did not stop there. They gathered the broken nation in their hands and nurtured it. In every sense, Singapore became theirs. They, as her parent, educated her. They clothed her. They groomed her. They prospered her. She became beautiful. She became loved. They, on the other hand, stood by, proud parents, watching their child, guiding her. If given the choice, will you discard your parents like Malaysia did Singapore?

Let us give them what they deserve. Let us give them a resounding applause. Bring them back again, and acknowledge them.

2) Their proposals are by far the most sound of the rest. I have a few here with me, taken from 28 April 2011's special GE report, and I will thus compare. I find it ridiculous, so stupidly ridiculous, that the youths of today who profess to be educated, can still vote for the opposition after they have read these absurd proposals. Or maybe they're too blinded they don't bother reading. I will be comparing some of PAP's proposals with that of their (supposedly) strongest opposition, Worker's Party (WP). I think most of the WP's proposals are rather workable, and can sometimes be better than the PAP's. When you compare the rest of the opposition to the WP...I have absolutely no idea what the rest of them are doing. The WP is a much better competition than them...

I have, obviously chosen to omit some categories to compare because of a few reasons, mainly that the WP is better than the PAP there, I have no idea what they're talking about, or that I simply have no idea how to judge them. As you can see, I'm not a very objective person.





  • GST "PAP: No raise in GST for the next 5 years, GST to help fund Workfare, bursaries and subsidies; poor get more than what they pay for GST" "WP: ...I'm not sure what their plans are, but there's a picture of 3 rice bowls in that box in place of any text at all..."

  • Is one to assume that the WP has no idea what they are to do with the GST? Well, that's very "far-sighted" of them. What do they intend to do if they become the government? Store the GST away in locked vaults? Add it to our national reserves? Swindle it away? They're not promising us anything. And so, on my part, I am not promising them any votes.


  • As for the PAP, they have a goal, something to adhere to. Isn't it right to spread money equally amongst the rich and the poor? Well, more evenly spread, anyway. If anything, I'd say that this plan is still a little sketchy, but it means well, to narrow the income gap, and I say it is better by far than the rice bowls in WP's box. What on earth do they mean anyway? A space filler?


  • Transport "PAP: Invest $60 billion to double MRT network to shorten commuting times and reduce crowding while keeping fares affordable" "WP: Nationalise public transport - should be provided as a public good and not for profit. A National Transport Corporation will provide services on basis of cost and depreciation recovery. Public buses should be exempted from taxes like electronic road pricing (ERP). Buses can conver to clean fuel"


  • Hmm, clean fuel, huh? They're actually already trying to do that for the public transport, not just buses. How much do you think it will cost to do so? That's a neat idea when the eco-friendliness is brought to the discussion table, but do you think that the Land Transport Authority (LTA) isn't already working on that? I believe they're already looking into clean fuel, and MRTs are more or less beginning to "reuse" the energy that they tend to lose due to friction during stopping. And public transport is already being promoted as the choice mode of transport. While it is a good idea to adjust prices to complement the rate of depreciation and whatnot, don't you think it will get a little messy? What about those who pay via coins? What, do they have to pay till the 1 cent? I would also like to add that, if the system isn't going to profit, it is entirely likely that it will crash and close one day. It needs to be able to support itself and upgrade itself. It can't always rely on the government to fund everything it needs, because funds might run out one day (especially since the WP seems to have no idea of what to do with the GST...).


  • The PAP's proposal, I will admit, is still a sketchy idea. Broadening the MRT network will indeed shorten commuting times, but only for certain routes. And I honestly don't see how this will help keep fares affordable, unless, because of shortening of routes, the "pay by distance" charges are being reduced. This investment will hopefully pay off in the long run if and only if the system continues to run.


  • Political System "PAP: Keep evolving and improving democracy. New election rules to encourage greater competition and give alternative coices larger representation in Parliament" " WP: Send ammendments to the Constitution to select committee of MPs from various parties. Cut voting age from 21 to 18. End GRC, Non-Constituency MP (NCMP) and Nominated MP (NMP) systems. Abolish elected presidency. Benchmark ministerial pay against political office of developed nations"


  • Oh, I will definitely support that ammendment to select committee of MPs from various parties, especially if some other party but PAP is in power. I somehow don't trust other parties. It is a definite NO to the lowering of voting age. Singaporeans now are already too myopic to see what is good for them. I don't think we want to involve even younger voters in the voting process. The screw-up, I'm afraid, will be too large to handle. I am not fond of the GRC idea either. I don't want an overwhelming population drowning out my voice which screams for the PAP. I actually think that it's quite mean of PAP to introduce GRCs to manipulate the votes, but...if it helps them stay in power, keep it. I have no idea what NCMPs and NMPs are, so I shall refrain from commenting. Abolish elected presidency? Hang on a moment, the president is the people's FACE. Can't we choose who to elect as our president? I'm not too sure about benchmarking the pay, because if so, corruption...can happen. Singapore is known for it's lack of corruption, so I don't want to risk losing the trust of MNCs and other foreign investors.


  • ...I have no idea what to say to the PAP. On one hand, I want them to stay in power, but to do that they must at least put on a facade of democracy, so they will have to introduce competition, but on the other hand, I don't even want to let them a chance to slip from power, because knowing Singaporeans, at the sight of opposition, they will clamour for it, and PAP...will be left in the dirt. They, who have served us well, will be discarded. The PAP is being "delightfully" vague about evolving and improving democracy. It will have to elaborate a tonne more than that to convince me, despite my pro-PAP-ness.


  • Education "PAP: Deploy wuality teachers in all schools, provide outstanding facilities for all schools, open more pathways for children of diverse abilities, give more support to children with learning difficulties, widen range of university, polytechnic and ITE programmes, have more and higher-quality childcare centres and kindergartens" "WP: Ideal learning begins with an inspired teacher in a small class size of 20 pupils, consider a primary-secondary integrated scheme instead of stressful PSLE, best that children cultivate love for learning rather than being groomed for high-stakes exams, increase tuition grants for local undergraduates instead of giving the same for all nationalities"


  • The WP seems keen on reducing studying stress. I heard from my tuition teacher that during one of their rallies, they cited one case of PSLE stress-induced suicide as a reason for abolishing the PSLE. Hmm, one? Has anyone ever diagnosed the kid with depression? Did anyone know if he or she was suffering from something that caused the stress to build up? Or is it just ordinary stress that killed him or her? Which one? We need more information. Also, with the inherent "kiasu-ness" of Singaporean parents, don't you think it's rather impossible that they'll support this "no PSLE" kind of education? Interestingly enough, it is because of the stringent and stressful education system that we have here in Singapore which allows Singaporeans studying in overseas colleges to keep up with the stress in their new school. There have been a couple of dropouts in those Ivy League colleges because the students are unable to keep up with the stress. I believe close to none of them have been Singaporeans, and I also believe that Singaporeans studying in those colleges find themselves thankful to have experienced the stress in Singapore. I find it rather funny that the WP wants to reduce class size. That would mean something close to a doubling of teaching staff. How many Singaporeans here wish to be teachers, raise your hands. None? Well, now that's a dilemma. Many Singaporeans have dreams and aspirations NOT related to teaching. It's not so easy to double teaching force. Well, then another solution will be to bring in teachers, you say. Let's see, oh, Singapore isn't already crowded enough with foreign talents. You want to bring more in? Well, we might be able to squeeze in one or two more without inciting the anger of our people...so, how will the WP deal with this? I believe that the PAP is already working on cultivating interest in children, and that they've already abolished examinations in Primary 1 and focussing on interest-based learning instead. But please don't abolish all examinations...


  • I believe that quality teaching instead of quantity teaching is a more viable option in Singapore. While WP focuses on small teacher to student ratios, PAP probably acknowledges that it will be difficult to have this accomplished so quickly, and has turned to quality teaching. Singaporeans are rather notoriously well-known to be rather good at quality control, so this shouldn't be an issue. Quality teaching may also overcome the issue of having too many students to a class, which hence negates the need for too many teachers (and possibly by extension, more "much disliked" foreigners teaching our children). It is nice to note that PAP is looking to cater to more diverse needs of the children, which WP is not, and will try to help students of different needs. I sincerely hope that they get an art college here, though...a reputed art college...I'm not sure if they already have one, actually, but never mind. Comparing this "suited to various needs" approach to the "less stress, more fun" approach by the WP, I can safely say that the PAP's seems to be more practical. Reducing stress in the education system might also cause students to slack (I have been experiencing this phenomenon, actually, due to the fact that I am not required to sit for GCE "O" Levels), which is most definitely not a good sign.

3) The opposition don't show me that they have enough experience. By rallying the people using incorrect methods (see above in my comment about WP's education), I believe that they are appealing to the wrong desires of Singaporeans. We are looking to better Singapore, not to build a fantasy bubble around ourselves and live in self-created utopia. They make you feel good, and don't you dare deny you don't that you can now oppose authority without being accosted for trying to launch a coup d'etat on the government. I wonder, is this what drugs feels like? I haven't personally been to any rally, so I can't say a thing, but I'm sure, PAP is fighting in their own way, we are just too blind to see it.

Be practical. Vote for long-term security, not spur-of-the-moment satisfaction.

Because of all these things, I support PAP.

I live in Aljunied, where the fiercest battle between PAP and WP is probably going to take place, and in all likelihood, if Singaporeans still continue to get attracted to WP, PAP is going to lose, and I am going to feel like the world has ended. I don't feel safe with the WP. I don't feel safe with any party. The only party I can safely say will bring Singapore security is the PAP, because they have a track record.

Some may argue that I'm not giving the opposition a chance, and I say, yes, I am not. I play safe. Unless PAP suddenly takes a turn for the worse, I am a PAP fanatic through and through. Because of this, my two minds about the election outcome are at war with each other.

My first mind, the one that wants it to be PAP forever without them ever stepping down, really desires that PAP wins this elections again. However, logically speaking, even if they do win this one, I am very fearful that they may not win the next one.

My other mind says this, that Singaporeans need to go through a period of suffering under another party's rule to see how good PAP has been for us. On one hand, I am really hoping that the opposition that goes into power doesn't screw it up too badly, because whatever you say, Singapore is still Singapore, my homeland, my love. I cannot bear to watch her lose the status which she has spent so many years painstakingly building. I can't stand to see PAP's hard work go to ruins like that. On the other hand, I hope they screw it up so bad that the people no longer consider them, and bring PAP back. Singaporeans need a rude awakening, else they won't see the light. We are just...so incredibly, annoying thick-headed like that. Mm, durians.

Honestly speaking, I have no idea what to think about my second mind. I really wish PAP to come into power for a while to come due to fear of letting Singapore crumble to ruin again under the governance of another party, but I just can't help but fear for Singapore's future if this actually comes true. I am worried. I am afraid. I want safety. I want PAP. But Singaporeans need to see for themselves. They need to go through. But I am afraid that after they do, when PAP goes back into power, Singapore will lose her affluence should some irreversible damage occur to her economy, her society, her reputation. I don't want to take that risk.

I am torn. To ensure PAP's "reign" would mean to give Singaporeans a rude awakening, which would mean that Singapore may end up in the depths of no return. To ensure Singapore's prosperity, the people will have to vote PAP in, but then they would never get to experience "terror" under another party's reign, and there will always remain the fear of losing Singapore to the opposition. Of course, I seem to be avoiding the possibility that the opposition might do a good job, but in all honesty, I don't believe that they will. Their ideas are lofty, way too lofty.

I want Singapore. I want PAP. Somehow, along the way, I have already equated PAP to Singapore's prosperity, and I won't be undoing that anytime soon, so it seems.

I acknowledge that PAP may be a little too controlling, a little too proud, but hey, which parent isn't unbearably overbearing? If they aren't, they aren't parents. They don't want the nasty influences to be upon their children. They desire the best, and you can say that the best education is, sometimes, very strict. I would rather they control everything, than have people running around in the streets in a free for all, with riots every day and bodies strewn over the streets. Well, I'll try to believe in Singaporeans, that they won't run wild, but who's to say?

Vote PAP.

I certainly will, once I reach 21, unless PAP suddenly declines in efficiency till another party actually becomes better than them. However, who is to say that I still won't be hopelessly in love with PAP that I will want to give them another chance despite what they have failed to do? I still support PAP after the Mas Selamat incident. I still support PAP. I probably will for the rest of my life.

I vote for stability.

I've heard that other parties wish to abolish the death sentence. Go ahead. I'd like to see what kind of a mess the crime scene in Singapore ends up like after that happens.

I've heard that other parties wish to abolish the GST. Go ahead. I'd like to see what kind of services the government can provide with so little funding.

I've heard that other parties wish to shorten NS training time. Go ahead. I'd like to see how Singapore can cope with war in this new age with this shrinking population.

I've heard that other parties wish to withdraw millions from our national reserve. Go ahead. I'd like to see how we can cope in times of economic crisis.

Go ahead. IF YOU DARE. If you keep your children's safety and future in mind, I believe you will vote for PAP.

Once again, with all my heart, I wish for this:

Vote PAP.
























Disclaimer here: I am a die-hard PAP fanatic, so you may not want to take every word that I say to be some sort of absolute truth. I twist facts. I'm afraid I can't separate my love for PAP from being objective, so this I apologise. Well, let's just say that I'm practising for some persuasive speech essay.

Haha, I sound like a propaganda-ist...

Friday, 11 February, 2011

Efficient Corruption

This post began 'construction' on 11 February 2011, and was edited and posted on 12 February 2011.

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YES!

I got my first set of Copic markers today!

Well, but before I elaborate on anything else, I might as well just (not-so) lightly cover my day's journey.

Ah, I remember it just as it was this morning...which it was...but WHATEVER. ;D

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This morning I woke up with sleep still clinging onto me like water riding up the edges of a test tube. I was decidedly not a happy camper. However, knowing the serious consequences of being late to school would include a much dreaded booking as well as a most uncomfortable ride by public bus to school, I safely settled for getting my lazy bum out of the welcoming tendrils of warmth emanating from the bed, sandwiched under a soft layer of comforter.

Dragging my 10 tonne legs to the toilet I brushed my teeth almost lethargically while trying to stay awake, nevermind keeping my eyes open. My arm felt like some sort of lead contraption designed to make locomotion the most horrible thing you'll ever experience. Blearily, I rinsed my mouth with Listerine and stumbled "gracefully" back to my room to change.

Cold assaulted me as I slowly pulled my large night shirt over my head to toss into the laundry basket. Goosebumps were a definite presence on my overly-thermal-sensitive skin. Fumbling slightly, I rushed to get my blouse on before the goosebumps become a permanent fixture on my epidermis. My eyelids drooped yet again for the nth time when I put on the pinafore. Grabbing my freshly washed maroon jacket I stumbled down the stairs.

Blearily I pinned on my school badge and name tag to avoid any strange looks from peers and unwanted attention from suddenly flocking prefects. I tied my hair into its usual low tail and blinked tiredly for a few seconds to clear the fog from my eyes. Why does everything seem so unclear even though I have my glasses on?

We ran out of Soya Milk so I asked for a cup of water instead. It was the most bland thing you've ever tasted, but some liquid down my slightly parched throat was better than none. I tucked my lunch box into my bag before once again returning to a state of the living dead. I sat listlessly like a rather odd-looking doll until the national anthem played over the radio, signalling that it's 06:00, and also time I left home to board the school bus.

My school bag was its usual weight, which comforted me a little for queer reasons I am not going to bother to figure out. Ambling to the school bus, I gazed up at the lightening navy blue sky to look for signs of a secret moon before getting clumsily into the school bus. As the bus drove off I managed to settle myself down without colliding into the roof and causing a spectacular bruise to develop on my large forehead.

Like usual, I dozed off after a few minutes due to a great desire to catch up on sleep that had deserted me when they decided amongst themselves that I needed to wake up just 15 minutes prior. Unlike usual, however, I woke up a few times during the ride. As the first person to board the bus, I could spend about 50 minutes sleeping, but strangely enough, my brain gained consciousness at odd times without any apparent triggers.

I alighted from the school bus in the school car park, walking slowly and heavily to class. There was CES today, which meant that there would be an extra Mathematics lesson awaiting me to face my doom early in the morning which, after morning assembly, would be followed by another Math lesson 55 minutes long.

It turned out, however, that Ms Fan considered the fact that some students were unable to make it for the CES session, and so she turned it into a consultation period. Ah, what a waste. Today would be the first time I'm attending the PEP (Philosophy Enrichment Programme) which is held in the library as informed by an e-mail received 1-2 days ago. I am moderately pleased that I had the foresight to inform Mr. Lorenzo that I wouldn't be coming due to the scheduled CES, but what a disappointment CES turned out to be.

Before the CES lesson I turned on the computer to do a little research on Copic markers. I did a similar research before, but that was mostly out of curiosity. This time, however, I was planning to buy a set of markers for my own use, since my birthday would be coming up in 2 days and I've expressed to my mother my desire to own some of these markers. We decided to go to Bras Basah today, right after Art Club is dismissed from an exhibition at the Singapore Art Museum (SAM).

XinYu, who was supposed to do her English class presentation today, approached me and asked if I knew how to access her thumbdrive on the class computer, because she couldn't. I showed her a nifty solution to the problem as I've been faced with this before with one of my thumbdrives. I actually do wonder if she approached me with any expectations or simply out of convenience. I don't think I've cultivated an image of extreme IT knowledge in class or anywhere else.

I've also realised, as I was unpacking my back onto my table to prepare for CES, that I had forgotten my pencil case altogether. Before that, I had a sudden epiphany which led to me remembering that while Mr. Angullia had mentioned that we would need foolscap for today's lesson, I had clean forgotten about that and brought not a single sheet. Thankfully, I managed to secure a pen from ShuYing and a pencil and a foolscap from Jaslin.

When the minute hand neared the 30 minutes mark to indicate 08:30 at 08:20, I proceeded to the parade square, not donning my maroon jacket. I have come to realise that if I do not wear it in the school bus I would not likely wear it to morning assembly. As it was, I only draped my jacket around me during the bus ride this morning.

Finding ChuNing whom I know to be from the PEP since I looked through the e-mail receipients who were informed of PEP's location earlier yesterday, I asked her about what she did today at PEP. It seems that the first session was mightily unproductive, mostly introductions, so I was relieved.

Since it was a Friday the Lower Secondary students assemble in the hall in preparation for assembly which is their first block. This left the entire parade square to the Upper Secondary. Needless to say, most of the student body were too dense to realise this and still gathered in their usual positions, and it wasn't until 5 minutes before morning assembly began that they finally realised they were standing in a spot far different from where they were supposed to be.

Singing voices were barely heard over the booming instrumental of the national anthem. If I could wager a little I would say that little under than a fifth of the students actually bothered to sing. I was not one of them. I used to be, though, but after an entire week of intermittent bursts of sore throat I didn't feel it safe to use my voice, as it would probably come out as some husky, undetermined sound.

Little announcements were made, and we were dismissed without fuss. Weaving through the dense crowd I nimbly manoeuvred my way back to class, lightness in my steps starkly contrasting with their sluggish movements just earlier that morning. Fast-paced but not quite delicately, I was the first back in class and pressed the switches for the lights.

Mathematics, as the first lesson, was a decidedly disgusting move on the timetable department's part. To begin the day, a FRIDAY nonetheless, with a mind-blowing lesson was just too much. I did manage to survive the lesson, and prepared for assembly by readying my tie. With a expert tug here and a wrap there I neatly formed the tie's shape and then secured it to my collar with a flourish, making it look like I had my uppermost button buttoned when it was not.

Before I move on I must mention this little experiment I did on 1 February this year right before the Chinese New Year break. I wore my tie properly, but instead of showing it, I pulled on my maroon jacket like I always do, and this time zipped it all the way up so that no part of my tie shows through. I don't usually do this when going for assembly, but I was doing an experiment that day. I pushed up my sleeves and then brazenly walked out of class and to the hall.

I was slightly disappointed that I wasn't accosted to show proof of my tie when I walked past the hall's entrance doors, but it vanished when a prefect ran up to me after I had walked pretty much half the length of the hall to ask if I brought my tie, a pretty euphemism for, "I KNOW you didn't bring your tie. Now let me catch you in the act and book you." The prefect probably didn't have this conscious intention, but her inner justice was probably roaring this anyway.

So, nonchalantly, I unzipped my jacket. I imagine she was looking a little tinged when she left, but I was too flustered with success from the experiment to notice anything. So, if one wants to enter the hall but does not have a tie, one should not zip the jacket up full and roll up the sleeves. That would make you look like you're warm, but somehow or another unwilling to remove your jacket. Reason? Well, the prefects (and all other students, for the matter) probably think you didn't bring your tie.

Today's assembly was going to be a similar but different experiment. This time I zipped up full but did not pull up my sleeves. In addition, to complete the image, I tucked my fists into my jacket's pockets as if to keep them warm. I was filtered into the hall without much fuss. Huh, so this is what you should do if you want to enter without a tie. Now we all know what to do, don't we?

Assembly was radically unlike every other assembly. While it began with the singing of the school song with an innocent quality comparable to heaven's choir accompanied by a pure tune of gentle, piano notes distinctly rendering a graceful, lady-like quality to the song, its main agenda was to signal the end of Friendship Appreciation Week (FAW) and start the Student Congress discussions.

With a short clip depicting students thanking various Executive Administrative Staff (EAS) and a spoken testimony presented via the video of the EAS showing appreciation for their work in RGSS, it was an effective conclusion to the week. While each department's representative ascended the steps to receive a token of appreciation from our new vice-principal, I could not help but notice that the green men were awarded a resounding applause no other staff departments had. Well, I guess appreciation for green men have been successfully inculcated into us. Shouldn't we begin to appreciate the other EAS now?

Immediately after the proclaimed end of FAW'11, Student Congress stepped up and headed a discussion about Timetables and School Infrastructure. Without much doubt, there were some complaints brought up which were irrelevant to the topic. It was clearly stated by the Congress Speakers that applause are to be held until the end, but the student body clearly didn't have ears, or else their ingenius minds were smashed into goo the moment a moderately 'cool' issue was brought up.

The discussion first started out very slowly, but once the ball started rolling, stopping it was an issue. There were many times when the Congress Speakers suggest the same solution of speaking to relevant teachers, which we all know to do but somehow have no mind to think of it as a REAL solution. In fact, it wouldn't be too far a stretch to say that it got annoying how the Speakers kept dodging issues like that after a while.

We were dismissed for recess soon enough. Snatching up my lunchbox I flew with the swiftness of an eagle cutting through the blue skies to the canteen. All my preferred round tables were already taken up, so I made do with a round table on the side of the canteen closer to J-Block. Rachael Sim joined me not long after, and we chatted a bit before going back up to imitate lifeless sculptures in our chairs. At least, I did.

Then entire of English block was used for an FA on documentary review writing, so XinYu didn't present to the class today. The video was about surrogate mothers in India, and while I have no idea what the documentary was supposed to be conveying, I decided against writing a draft and started on my essay immediately. I noticed, much to my chagrin, that Jaslin, who was my desk mate to my right, was actually doing a draft. I felt horribly unprepared then.

The word limit was 300-350, but I overshot it by 10 words. Jaslin and Celine (especially Celine) wrote so much excess that their words sprawled over 1 or more pages while mine was confined to half a page. Well, the fact that I had forgotten to insert paragraphing probably had something to do with its apparent lack in length.

Social Studies went by without a hitch, other than the fact that I wans't particularly interested in how to write the essay, but more on reading the articles for leisure instead. I have interests that do not help my academics, but I am sure this form of enjoyment might make life much more tolerable than others. While Mr. Azahar went to photocopy 31 copies of an article for the class, I forgot that it was still Social Studies period and went to the toilet, coming back and getting mildly surprised that Mr. Azahar was still in class. During this extra time I played around with my hair, and gave it an insociant-ish apperance, which I kept until the end of the day.

Physics was a mess of cluttered information. There was so much to absorb in so little time, even if I actually found out the answers to the questions which I got wrong for before Mr. Thio went through them. There were new ideas brought up and old ones revised. I found I needed that extra reinforcement as my knowledge of Physics is severely limited.

Physics ended early enough for me to get a round table as well as food within 5 minutes. Grace who, like me, was from Art Club, joined me at my table in a while after PanYu, also another person from Art Club, did, and with Grace was one of her friends whom I assume is from Red Cross Youth (RCY). Grace mentioned that she had to do a worksheet when she visited SAM yesterday with half of Art Club. She also brought up the fact that only 2 Sec4 Art Club members were amongst the other Art Club and SAP pupils at the exhibition yesterday. Poor girl. Grace commented that she liked my new hair, though. =) I have to admit, I like it too. It looks professionally messy.

Grace accompanied me all the way to my class where I packed up belongings. Before leaving for the foyer where the half of Art Club (and SAP) who haven't been to the exhibitions yet are assembling, I made a quick detour to the toilet once more. I simply cannot help but want to be on the safe side.

At the foyer I saw AnYan (AY) playing the piano, so I walked up to her with Grace in tow and set down my bag at the foot of the piano. I soaked up the music she played with much gratification. Grace also played a song or two before I reminded her that she wanted to take a picture of my awesome hair. She took 2 photos, and I asked her to send them to me because I thought my hair was awesome too. I spied Mr. Wong beyond the yellow Singa and passed up my consent form, and also refilled my waterbottle at the cooler adjacent to the foyer.

AY and I stuck together like some sort of honey. We weren't as close as glue, although we did think of that since we didn't know much of the other Sec4s very well anyway, but close enough. I feel a little guilty for leaving ShuYing out of my fun, but I think she was close enough to PanYu to enjoy herself.

When we boarded a bus, it didn't move for over 15 minutes. We were then told to transfer to another bus. What a weird thing. Can't they simply transfer drivers?

We first went to a warehouse in Tanjong Pagar where art pieces were displayed in large, warehouse halls. There were some rather controversial images, such as one of the Japanese emperors with a pregnant woman's nude body and holding a shovel to signify the desire of the emperor to make up for horrible labour treatments by giving birth to the labourers again. It was pretty vague, but I could completely appreciate the technique that went into the painting.

An interesting thing to note is that we got lost both getting to and from the exhibition hall. Firstly, we took the wrong elevator up. It was a cargo elevator, so even though we arrived at the correct floor the entrance to the floor was sealed. Then, when we boarded a broad passenger elevator, we finally found our way. The doors of the elevators looked like thick metal, and slid down with a sort of slow, groaning movement. There were doors on both sides of the elevators, and they opened depending on the level. Mr. Wong told us that if we got our bodies stuck in between the door and the floor, we'd be crushed immediately. We found out later that that was an empty scare, for sensors at the doors would immediately force the doors to retreat should something be in the way.

The exhibitions there were creepy. Firstly, right in front of the elevator, was a ginormous installment of large clay pots punched in while the clay was still semi-wet in places to specifically form a likeless of humans singing. There was another memorable installment which was many dogs arranged in rows and collumns with 3 LED displays on the ground showing, in sliding movement, a testimony of a girl who survived the bombing at Hiroshima. The words used were simple yet hauntingly despairing. In a room in a seemingly unknown wall of the hall was a silent video screening, inspired by the life of two people so trapped in their own ideals that they work in a dreamlike state without interaction with the outside world.

As we took the passenger lift down again to level 1, the door on the other side opened. We found ourselves rather lost when faced with the unfamiliar sight. There were workers looking at us from the landing. I suppose they were the ones who pressed for the lift. We were facing the other side of the building! It would be a VERY long walk back to the side which we had been on. We tried looking for exit doors but they were emergency ones. As a last minute attempt, we gathered back inside the elevator and closed the doors, then opened them again. Thank goodness the door to the other side opened!

We visited the second hall at the warehouse without getting all that lost because we've been to that hall before, but not after the changed the exhibits. These exhibits are the controversial ones.

Next, we boarded the same bus to SAM. This meant that we left our bags on the bus while we were at Tanjong Pagar. Taking our bags with us when we alighted at SAM because we weren't going to take the bus again, we ran across the small distance from the bus to shelter because it was raining slightly. Within the lobby of SAM, we were each given a saturated blue-green circular sticker which read in white: I AM MADE FOR SAM which I later dropped on the bus home. Hmm. "Who's SAM? Someone's boyfriend?" was what was running through all our minds, sarcastically. Funnily enough, my mother later brought up that I had a cousin called 'Samuel'...

While we set aside our bags in a cage-like huge locker, AY and I decided to try and impersonate any one of our original characters (OCs) for the length of the visit at SAM. I chose Lucille Trinity, one of my latest OCs, as his personality was pretty much fixed, and I wouldn't feel TOO embarrassed imitating him since he, like me, has a lot of pride and wouldn't do anything silly that would stain my face a permanent red.

SAM's galleries were good, as expected. Heck, it was interesting! Especially the exhibition where this woman sewed velvet over her father's bones and made it so that they look like art exhibitions. It was amazingly beautiful yet creepy at the same time. There was also a small (claustrophobia-inducing, which might have been the desired outcome) room where everything was red, and shelves were lined evenly with bottles which contained "blood". Their labels even have instructions on how to consume them!

We were dismissed surprisingly early at 17:45, a very different time from what Grace said. She told us her group was released at roughly 18:30. Hmm, perhaps it's because Mr. Wong has already been to the exhibitions that he can gauge how much time is needed for each and herd us along appropriately. On our way out we picked up a free magazine near the counter called Muse.

Others left for home immediately after dismissal, while I stayed back and waited for my mother who said she'd be coming at 18:15 to go with me to Bras Basah to buy Copics. I was incredibly excited, but when I called her she said she'd take a while, so I read Muse while trying to pass the time. When I called her at 18:15 because she still wasn't there, she said she was still waiting for a bus, but she shouldn't take long, so I continued reading. It was probably the largest coincidence ever that just as I finished reading the magazine my mother called me at around 18:35.

It didn't really register that it was my phone that was ringing since I don't usually turn my phone off silent mode, so the ringtone sounded incredibly foreign to me. When I picked it up my mother told me that she was already nearby and gave me directions to a building which was probably some office of NTUC. I followed it, and stopped at a small road crossing even though there wasn't any traffic. Well, all I cared about was that I shouldn't cross when the red man is on.

Under the NTUC building my mother and I reunited and went on our merry way to Bras Basah. I was surprised at how close it was to SAM. My mother did show me the map yesterday but I didn't actually think it'd be THAT close. Excitement rising within me, I happily accepted my mother's offer of soggy fries from her lunch, picking them with much care with a serviet???????????? so as to not contaminate the fries with whatever strange germs I have on my hands.

At Bras Basah we checked the directory. I read online earlier that morning about a shop called ArtMark which sold Copics as well as Art Friend. Well, we all know that Art Friend sells just about anything, so it wasn't much of a surprise. The directory told us that Art Friend was on the 3rd floor while ArtMark was on the 4th, so we decided to go to Art Friend first to check the price, as the thread I read said that ArtMark offered better Copics discount.

I was overwhelmed by the selection of Copic there, and was torn between Copics, Copic Sketch, and Copic Ciao. Well, I wasn't actually all that interested in Ciao since I read a feedback somewhere that was pretty negative. Even though the subsequent comments all had testimonies which denied the truthfulness of the negative feedback, I didn't want to risk anything. Copics were a little hard, so I decided to get Copic Sketch.

The sets were not present at the shelves but at the counter, and my mother helped me ask if they could show us the sets since I have no idea which colours to buy as it's my first time buying Copics. I was really torn. The choices within each set were good, but while one of the sets had colours for skin which I absolutely adore, the other one had another shade which was perfect as well. In the end I temporarily picked a set that looked most suited for skin, something I would likely be colouring most. One of the sets was a box of saturated colours, and I wasn't too pleased with that as it didn't offer me much choices for skin colours, if any at all.

Then, my mother suggested that instead of getting the sets we get the holder for the markers and then pick the colours I wanted. I wasn't really confident of getting nice colours, though, since I have no idea what I want and need. However, I accepted her proposition. It was a little tough to make this decision since the box would cost more separate from the set.

Before choosing colours we went up to ArtMark to check out the prices there. Turns out there wasn't a difference, and in fact, ArtMark didn't sell sets of 12 but of 36 and 72, which were way too expensive to afford. So we went back to Art Friend.

I spent a really long time selecting the colours. By the time Art Friend decided to close shop I had only picked 9 colours. The boxes were a little hard to tell whether they were for Copic Sketch or Copic Ciao or Copics, since all the markers had different shapes and sizes, and each box was custom made to fit their specific markers. In the end, my mother got a box which could fit 36 Copic Sketch markers. She told me that I could add more to my collection like this if I got a large box. I was pleased, very much so.

We decided to go to to ArtMark to get a few more colours. I picked another 9 colours, and clean forgot to get a normal red and green marker. I was too engrossed in choosing aesthetically pleasing colours that I totally ignored saturated colours. Well, that's a lesson for you to learn: Never EVER get too carried away that you forget your basics.

I realised that I left the Muse magazine in ArtMark when we had gone down by a level, so I returned to get it while my mother decided that nature was calling. I made my way up the steps alone, feeling incredibly creeped out by the acute lack of people in the area and also by the fact that the architecture was old. It felt like a horror movie, and frankly, I was afraid that some creep would come out and kidnap me. I held my bundle of precious (and EXPENSIVE) Copics close to me because I really didn't want to ruin them before I even have a chance to try them out.

Luckily, ArtMark was just nearly closing and hadn't closed yet, so I got the magazine without issues. Come to think of it, I was standing at the glass door and motioning at the magazine which was lying on the counter looking severely out of place, and the cashier lady seemed to understand what I was trying to say. Well, her face was a little scary although she was pretty so it was kind of freaky, but when I voiced my thanks she smiled and I was filled with some sort of, "Oh, so she can smile so nicely too." feeling.

The rest of Bras Basah still looked incredibly like a horror movie set.

I went to meed my mother in the toilet since she hadn't come to our designated meeting place yet, and walked with her down and to the bus stop opposite to get onto a direct bus, 133, home. The bus ride was remotely uneventful, except for when 4 teenagers came in, 2 Chinese girls, 1 Indian girl and 1 Indian boy. The bus became a little noisy for a while. Before they came in my mother and I sat in different rows since not many seats were available, but when the seats opened up, we sat in the second last row on the right, since there were no other adjacent seats.

The teengaers came in after we changed seats. One of the Chinese girls got the Indian girl to help her put on her earring, while the other Chinese girl commented that her ear hole was bleeding so they couldn't see the hole itself. It must be noted that they were attempting to insert the earring at the TOP of the ear shell, which likely means that the piercing is at the top. Strange, I've rarely seen these, and in most cases, in mangas. I actually like piercing my OCs' ears in odd places, though. =)

Halfway through the teenagers compacted into 2 sets of adjacent seats, one in front of the other, while my mother and I sat behind them. My mother suggested putting the Copics into the box we bought, and I thought it was a good idea to pass time. When we unwrapped the box from its multi-layered plastic wrapping, we found that it was cracked, though. I didn't really mind the crack, but my mother lamented about how expensive the box was (S$7.00+) and that it was such a pity. We couldn't really have noticed the crack, though, since so many layers of plastic was wrapping it that it marred out vision.

While I rearranged the markers, I also tried to arrange their caps to face the right direction. While doing so I accidentally dropped the cap of an orange Copic Sketch, which led me to squat and look about for it. I must have looked a littlel like a pervert... When I was unsuccessful and now feeling a little depressed, my mother told me to hold the box while she took it. She found it near her seat. I didn't actually expect it there, since the bus lurched forward and I thought the cap might have flew forward as well. My mother then told me not to do anything else, and I completely agree with her. I don't want to lose a cap (or a marker!) for good. They were so EXPENSIVE! ><

We arrived home at around 20:20, and had dinner immediately. The bus ride was approximately 30 minutes long. Yes. If you do the Math, we spent a LONG time at Bras Basah. Oddly enough, my father was getting some stuff out of the car boot when we arrived home. I assume he just arrived as well. My mother asked him why he was so early (I was all, "EARLY?!") and she added if my brother had CCA (Astronomy) today. My father replied negative, which made everything make a lot of sense.

My brother's Astronomy CCA is held at night on Fridays, and ends at around 22:00, see.

At home I consumed dinner and a very odd looking gummy bear which was actually 4 gummy bears melted into each other to look like a piece of shapeless gummy. The interesting thing about it is that out of all the many possible colours, red and yellow were the make-up, and in equal amounts as well! Even more queer is that it is arranged in such a way that it almost forms a square, with the top right gummy being yellow, the bottom right red, the bottom left yellow and the top right red. Interesting, isn't it?

When I thought that the box didn't come with a cover after opening it on the bus, I just didn't notice that the cover was tucked OVER the base. I found that out right at the end of the day when I discovered to a dent in each narrow side of the box. I held the box up by those dents, mildly interested in their purpose, when the cover fell off...well, colour me surprised.

--------------------------------

FAST FORWARD to 12/02/2011

My mother decided that she wanted to exchange the broken box for a new one, since there was a 3 day warranty/exchange limit at Art Friend. So we took the bus to Bras Basah after lunch. There, I picked up another 3 colours, red, green and blue, and bought a Sakura Micron pen as well. My mother and I spent a long time browsing through other shelves just to take a look at what they sold. Art Friend really did sell a lot, but I don't get the feeling of a friendly air in the store...I wonder why.

I bumped into one of my cousins, YuXuan, at Art Friend. Because he was MALE, I felt completely weirded out. It's not like I hate him or anything. Actually, looking back, I didn't even recognise him. When he called out, "Er4 Jiu4 Ma1" from behind us my mother turned around to look, and exclaimed my cousin's name. When I myself turned to look, I didn't recognise him at all, and thought there was some strange mistake, until my mother insisted that the tall boy behind me whom I didn't recognise was YuXuan. Oh dear. I guess he just changed too much over the course of the 1 year I haven't seen him. It's not much of an excuse, though, since I do see him every year during Chinese New Year, and IT HAS JUST PASSED. O.o

We took the bus back, and at home, right now at my computer, I remembered that some of my favourite characters' hairs are blond, and I HAVE NO YELLOW COPICS. Wow. Epic. I don't want to go all the way there again to get one...I have an orange-ish colour which could double as a very dark shade of yellow, though, but most of my characterse have very light blond hair. Perhaps one of the very light brown shade I got would do...but it doesn't look very yellow!

So, I shall present a complete list of the marker colours I bought, if anyone wants a reference. There are 21 markers in total.

V01, V06, RV42, R02, R17, R59, YR00, Y38, G14, G21, G99 BG49, B000, B28, B3, E29, E30, E57, C1, 0, 100

V likely refers to violet, R red, Y yellow, G green and B black. I have absolutely no idea what E represents, but the colours of Es are brown-ish. C=Cool, a set of gray colours. 0 is a colourless blender, and 100 is black. There's a 110 called 'Special Black', but I honestly can't tell the difference...

I feel quite unique, you know, because most people start off with a set of colours pre-picked for them, while I selected my own colours. I hope to get more, but I think I can do a lot with what I currently have. =) I will try not to let the money go to waste! Each marker costs S$5.85!

Thursday, 13 January, 2011

The Flower that was Mute

It's been a LONG time since I last posted something. I'd be surprise if anyone is still reading this.

I've gotten back from the holidays and dropped right back into school head first. Needless to say I didn't quite like it when how I use my time was no longer that much under my control. I had to wake up at 05:45 again, and I have only just gotten used to it once more. I was really lethargic on the first day of school because I was so...anxious about school that I couldn't sleep on the bus.

The Secondary 1s look so tiny and innocent, looking up at us from where they were down there in the amphi. I could still vividly remember when I myself was a Sec 1, fresh out of Primary School and all bright-eyed. I was looking up around me in awe at all the seniors, wondering when I can finally be like them, veterans of the school, and so much wiser. I also remember trying to look cool. XP

Now that I'm in Sec 4...I don't really feel all that much wiser. I just gain a sense of superiority since most of the school's student population is younger than me. I'm born in February, if you must know. Looking back on the students I can actually tell who is from what year.

Year 1: The make-a-good-first-impression stage. Very neat hair, crisp blue uniform that isn't artistically splashed with acids, bases, and salts, and also cover their knees modestly. They're also rather short and have an acute lack of pimples. Some have been caught trying to look 'cool' as they probably have been in Primary School.

Year 2: The experimental stage. Hair starts to hang over their faces like curtains, and belts are pushed to an all time low a little too unnaturally. They have yet to master the art of breaking school rules beautifully. Skirts are riding up their thighs rather unpleasantly. Entering the 'sexy' and 'rebellious' stage, overly confident of themselves, and it annoys me.

Years 3: The senior stage. More or less rule-abiding, but now with an air of proportional self-confidence they didn't have in Year 2. Hair is so-so, a little mussed up here and there but over all satisfactorily neat. Those with short skirts are mostly those who can't be bothered to buy new pinafores. Perhaps their beginning to see themselves as role models for the younger ones?

Year 4: The OMG-I'M-GOING-TO-GRADUATE stage. Each person has their own distinct style now. We don't have to try and look cool, we already are. School uniforms are old and worn, and appear to have shrunk in the wash since Year 1. Hair is neatly and casually styled, so it doesn't look like we put in too much effort. We know we are the seniors, and proudly display our yellow name tags. We don't need to try to get our respect. ;)

I'm adjusting to senior life quite well, thank you. I've just gotten used to being called a 'Year 4'. The only complain I quite have this year is that my classroom door doesn't close very well even if you slam it. I have such a headache trying to control myself from running from my seat to close the doors. My new seat (effective since yesterday) is smack in the middle of class, where the air-con blows the strongest, and where my jacket becomes useless.

Our class computer epic fails as well. Today, during Biology, 1st block, Mr. De Souza spent 15 minutes of the block trying to get the project to show SOMETHING that's not a default image. We called in the computer dudes. 2nd block was PE followed by recess (as the new school timetable is supposed to follow PE then recess rule), we shall skip that first. Then during Physics we had tonnes of trouble getting the powerpoint slide on the projector. I'm not sure if we called in the computer dudes. 4th block Math also met the same trouble, but we gave up on the computer and just started on lesson. 5th block English needed the projector, so we called in the computer dude again. Our computer EPIC FAILS.

PE, and we started on floor ball. I'd actually say I'm rather decent at it, if not good. Even though I may not know to hold the stick (or whatever it's called) at the end by my dominant hand, I was able to play smoothly and apply the right amount of force. You wouldn't believe how many people had their hollow, holey balls flying because they whacked them. Gosh, common sense, people.

When Mr. Desmond Ng, our PE teacher, told us about the proper way of handling the stick (see previous paragraph), I was all, 'NO WAY. I'm not comfortable at all with that position.' So I just went back to using one hand. We were supposed to use 2, but I think I have more control with just one hand, as well as more freedom. My left hand is so clumsy.

Well, after school there was an Art Club-SAP combined trip to Stage Arts exhibition at...I don't really know where. It's close to the Esplanade. There, Grace, Lou Shan and I huddled in a group and wandered about. The SAP students were supposed to stick together, so us, the 3 poor Art Club souls pranced about ourselves.

We stopped by a model of a bulldozer made up of frames of Gothic Cathedral themed pieces (approximately 1:4 size), and we were immediately enthralled by it. Grace and I were, that is. Lou Shan wasn't all too impressed. I took out 2 pieces of paper, a pencil and an eraser and started drawing the designs I particularly liked. Grace brought it up first, so I thought I'd just follow her example since it was a great idea.

While we were happily copying a Straits Times reporter/journalist walked up to us and asked for an on-the-spot interview. We were all stunned, to say the least. It's nice to know that my first commercial interview occured in an art exhibition, but by gum I'm totally not prepared for it! I think I saw her snapping photos of the bulldozer thing, but then again she might have been snapping us who were right beside it. Her angle was slightly off.

She asked for our school, then our names, if we were there for a club activity, and what kind of art we did. Grace answered most of them perfectly well, with fantastic impromptu answers. Then, somehow, the conversation strayed to our preferences (or rather, why we were copying the designs). Grace to the rescue once again, and she mentioned how she and I were both fantasy genre fans, as well as manga fans.

Then I, having the most 'ingenious' brain, butted in and rambled about how we were entranced by the Gothic design of the bulldozer, how it would deeply inspire us in our character, clothes, and other random fantasy designs, when I have absolutely no idea where the words 'Gothic themed' came from. I'm just glad that I used them correctly. I just checked up Gothic designs, see, and it seems I didn't say the wrong thing. Phew, I though I'd told her something wrong...and give her the impression that RGSS girls like to talk about things they don't know about.

The interview ended with her asking for one of our numbers. Grace gave hers, mostly because I held my hand out to her to indicate, 'You do it.' Then the reporter thought that she'd rather be on the safe side so she asked for another number. Lou Shan gave hers. I imagine I must have been shaking my head rather badly then. I don't mind giving my number to a Straits Times reporter, but I'm afraid of what nonsense I'll tell her, so it's better not to give any opportunities to tell her anything at all.

We continued on our way, and somewhere somehow, we lost Lou Shan. The exhibitions were wonderful, and I became the unofficial time keep for both Grace and I, because we could always be too captured by the wonderful art to remember the time. We had to assemble back outside by 17:30, see. We pranced about, noted a few artists, and were awed by the last exhibition we deemed we had enough time left to visit. It was a large cylindrical thing, and we had to climb up a very steep set of steps to see the art in it.

I was wondering what kind of art could possibly be inside the cylinder, but when I looked in...wow. I was blown away. It's the kind of rotating thingum where lights blink so very quickly to give us the illusion of watching 3D figures climbing up a ladder and into a hole. Well, the 3D part was real, but those figures weren't actually climbing. More like stuck in a position, with the next one advancing a little, or something. The light coordination had to be incredible. I saw this technique applied in one of Disney's exhibitions from last year at Science Centre as well.

I think the trip to the galleries from school stole 30 minutes of our time, but those 30 minutes were well spent. I flipped through a ton of Grace's drawings, which, by the way, have improved tremendously over the holidays. Her style changed quite a bit too. It was odd looking at the things she draw and trying to connect them with her older style. I say her style is beginning to mellow, but her skills have definitely improved. I believe I remained stagnant, though...

When we left I thought I'd take the bus with everyone to an MRT station and get home from there, but when I found out (at the last minute too...) that 133, one of the services which could get us near City Hall MRT station, could give me a direct lift home, I boarded it, bid those people who were alighting in a few stops (which was everybody) goodbye, and proceeded to the top bunk of the bus. Ooh! I love double deckers. I rarely get to ride on one.

The ride home was uninteresting, very uneventful, unless you count having a guy reeking of cigarette smoke sit in front of you eventful. Gosh, I tried to breath through my blouse the entire time he was there... On the way home I called home to ask my sister to make the rice for dinner (since I'll probably be home after 18:30 as I boarded at 18:00, and I was). She said, 'No' without any hesitation, and I was annoyed. Very annoyed. I emphasised that I would be home late again, but she denied me again like I was some pest she wanted to get off her. Needless to say I said a quick goodbye and hung up. She's so annoying, no matter how much I love her as a sister.

I arrived home at 19:00, and immediately set about to make rice. Ugh. The bag was running out of it rather quickly. After I started the rice cooker I went up and the rest of the day proceeded as usual. Not much to talk about there since my daily routine is rather boring.

Well, so long for now. I actually wanted to talk about the very interesting conversation my brother, my father and I had about how we should say, "Jesus is our saviour" instead of, "We believe Jesus is our saviour" that was held on Saturday, 8th January, but I'll leav it to a later time. It was a conversation where I felt I couldn't find the right words to express myself with, so it kind of ended really disappointingly in their favour...

Tuesday, 23 November, 2010

When the Sanguine Smell FOUL

...I will be there to catch you as you fall
With a brilliant smile on my face
I will say, "I'll miss you darling"
With no pain in my eyes

When the sanguine feel foul
I will forget you I promise
With the rising of tomorrow's sun
I will lick the filth off your face
With the tongue you loved to restrain

When the sanguine is foul
I will walk toward the horizon
With barely contained shivers
I will laugh at your wide open eyes
With no remorse that I stole your life

When the sanguine coat my body
I will abandon humanity

With death drenching my soul
I will walk this road alone
With bodies littering the trail

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Oh gosh, that sounded really morbid...ah well. I just thought the title looked like a really nice starting line for a poem so I wrote a continuation in the post. It somehow expanded to include 4 verses...

I have nothing much to write/type about, but maybe I should share with you guys my incredible success with my new tablet? Okay, so I'm ego-ing a bit, but hey, how many people can say they learnt how to paint digitally in...around a month? I'm not saying my painting is WONDERFUL, full of sunshine and rainbows, but I am good for an amateur. Okay, tooting my own horn...

Let me just share with you some of the things I have done with my tablet. They're not the best digital works there are around, but they're precious to me, because I painted them while I was learning (still am, though) the ropes of digital painting. Goodness, the tablet was so difficult to use when I first tried it...

These are in chornological order, but I skipped some pieces cuz' they weren't particularly beautiful (or were simply sketches). All of them are linked back to the original page on deviantART which hosts them (click on the images, not the titles). If you'd like to find me on deviantART I'm here: Ferrero13

Elements: Keryiall (an additional character from my element story)
Elements: Keryiall
Er...she is not a confirmed character in the element story, but she might be included.

Hetalia: Independence (a Hetalia fan art, obviously)
Independence
This is not shounen-ai (boy love). These are my 2 favourite characters from Hetalia, and they share a rather complex relationship, and I think the monochrome suits this depressing piece just fine.

Cake (er, the name's kinda complex, so I'll just leave it at this)
Cake
This is part of a birthday commission for Zann, but well, you can see it's kinda late for a birthday present...

Apple (Part 1 of the Fruit Faes series)
Apple
Part 2 is already complete. It's somewhere down, just scroll, but I don't think you'll get a very good look at it cuz' it's pretty...small? This image is good as a wallpaper.

Mango (Part 2 of the Fruit Faes series)
Mango
Yeah, the image proportions are a little extreme, but they work for the concept I had in mind for Mango.

Elements: Snowy Sentiment (Boron from the element story)
Elements: Snowy Sentiment
Unlike Keryiall, he IS a confirmed character. I mean, of course he is! He has an element name. This is my most recent piece, and the one I'm most proud of. Fur coat!

I'm working on another piece, which I expect won't be too nice. For one, this next one has line art, and the lines are a little too thick to be considered nice. Ugh, should have gone with a one pixel line or something like that. But the background should be rather interesting, though, because for the first time in digital painting history, I'm going to paint a proper background, not a haphazard abstract one. This next one is going to be a sky, although I'm not expecting much out of it since it is my first time painting proper backgrounds after all.

I think it'd be rather interesting to note that in the next piece I will most probably be including a poem...in CHINESE. Oh, the world is going to end. Gosh, my Chinese is so bad I had to check up almost every word of the poem, which, by the way, I should have known since...dunno, 2 or 3 years back or more. I seem to be forgetting how to write a lot of those characters...

There isn't much I'd like to contemplate about. My days at home during the school holidays mostly consist of reading manga online, downloading manga, playing some facebook games (I'm only playing 1 this holiday though, since playing more would be an epic waste of time), updating my element story, cementing characters from the element story, randomly browsing the internet, drawing, and now I'm adding digital painting to the list.

I want to paint something for my parents for Christmas since well, I wouldn't be painting anything digitally if not for them, but I can't find a suitable image to paint! I can't paint real people without references (not that I've ever tried painting them before), so yeah.

Hm, I'm not very talkative in this post...mostly, probably, because I don't have anything in mind to talk about. I just thought, if I don't update it sometime soon people are going to think I got killed or something. It's not too farfetched of an idea since I'm pretty sure my annoying personality and sour (not to mention scary!) face makes many people hate me easily.

Ugh. I really need to learn how to socialise, especially with the people whose personalities I find the most annoying...although, truly, I am infinitely, indefinitely, impossibly irritated by superficial people whose mouth spout one thing while their hearts give off a feeling of rot...or maybe my senses are off and they're actually giving off some flowery fragrance...

Meh, I'm not here to discuss about people I dislike, which most people may find it easy to relate to. Perhaps I should start a post listing the kind of people that make me want to smash their faces into walls. Well, let us begin, shall we?

1) Those who act like they're sexy/beautiful/pretty when in fact they aren't
2) Those who smile like an idiot but at the same time give off an incredibly nefarious and uneasy feeling
3) Those who take things without asking for permission (or indeed, just take without restraint
4) Those who ask questions when the answer was just stated ONE SECOND AGO (gosh, you have a brain, use it!)
5) Those who think that just because they are are sexy/beautiful/pretty they deserve ultimate respect in all areas such as academics, which has nothing to do with beauty pagents
6) Those who take others' things and expect others not to even touch theirs, in short, hypocrites
7) Those who spout vulgarities as if they are talking about the weather
8) Those who demand for unreasonable things continuously even after being denied
9) Those who can't tell when their logic has been proven false and persist in their stand
10) Those who are inconsiderate pests who do not spare even a gram of their brain to think about others, in other words, those who are selfish

These are the top ten kinds of people I find most annoying. Feel free to make up your own list.

Now I do not mean to say I don't commit any of these things which I really detest, because I do from day to day, in small amounts, or as revenge, which, by the way, is very ungodly so I shall try to refrain from it. I don't particularly mind if people have their moments of 'annoying-ness' once in a while but doing these things on a daily basis really makes me feel like strangling them.

Meh. I think today's post is a little strange, very not like me, but that's probably because I'm trying to squeeze out a post when I have nothing to write about.

So long.

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...when the sanguine smell foul

Friday, 24 September, 2010

Purple Porcupine Pickles Pepper

(I started typing this yesterday. Internet went down so I uploaded it today.)

I will start off my first post in about a gazillion years with about a gazillion (or a fraction of that) words about how completely narcissistic and impossibly materialistic American shows are in MTV. Seriously, what goes on in those producers' heads? Why on earth are they promoting this insidious over-reliance on all things tangible and the 'importance' of I, Me, Myself?

I caught the last few minutes of an episode of 'My Sweet Sixteen' or something along these lines just tonight when I went down for dinner. My sister was watching it, of course, since I would never, for the life of me (or so I think), willingly tune in to such a sickeningly sickening show. I'm not saying that all American girls act like this one I saw and that all American girls are materialistic and self-centred, but to show this kind of behaviour and deem in as 'COOL' and 'IN' is really over-doing it.

I'm not sure of the name of the person who was hosting the 'Sweet Sixteen' in the episode, but I do know that she is one of the first real life examples I've come across of the rather popular stereotype of 'blonds are bimbos and have none or one brain cell'. I don't really believe this so-called generalisation of the blond population because hair colour in no way decides how bimbotic a person will be, but by gum, this girl is challenging my very belief!

Her 'Sweet Sixteen' was a grand party in Las Vegas, complete with some gambling machines inside the hall area where her party is held. Before the birthday bash started she and her 'VIP's were already waiting for the guests in a back room which she will appear from later (escorted by a dude wearing nothing but black trousers and a bow tie, no shirt). I don't dislike her for wanting her birthday to be 'special' but what really got to me was the statement she made about her 'VIP's, the people who will be emerging with her from the back room later (like brides maids to a bride).

"They should be hono[u]red that they're here. It's a special privilege. They better not screw this up or else. I want my Sweet Sixteen to be perfect. It's all about me, I want all eyes on me." (Not accurate, of course, but just summarising the gist. No, I'm not twisting the meaning...)

I mean, what? Honoured to be at her birthday party? What kind of friend says this of her friends? Or does it mean that they aren't actually her friends? I don't really know the context of this situation but all I know is that people aren't dispensible like that. My goodness, if you want someone to honour you that badly, don't sound so high and mighty! Isn't it common sense that someone to be honoured should be someone who is respectable? As far as I know I'm not going to be respecting anyone like that soon.

For goodness sake, the world doesn't revolve around you! So what if it's your Sweet Sixteen? Congratulations, you're a second older than you were before, but so is everyone else! What I'm saying is, everyone is the same. There's no, "Oh, I'm more special than you since it's my birthday today." The world doesn't work like that! I couldn't be bothered who the heck you are or when your birthday is, and I'm pretty sure it wouldn't matter to the guests or the 'VIP's either.

I'm almost certain that what they'll remember from this party is:
1) Oh yeah, I had a great time.
2) This is the best Sweet Sixteen ever, but mine will be better.
3) Whose party was it again?
4) We really went crazy with the entertainment!
5) She's HOT, and so, so SEXY, but what's her name again?

And the list goes on and on. Point is, there is nothing more superficial than trying to please a crowd of people who likely don't know anything about at all other than your name and birthday, and are sucking up to you because you have great assets under your name and on your body.

I remember there was this once in the episode when the crowd was going wild over the (rather famous, I assume) band she invited to 'liven up' the party. Needless to say they livened the crowd up well. A little too well. She tried to call for the end of the little concert but the lead singer simply ignored her and said, "Your host thinks you guys should stop the party. But you know what I think? I think this party needs to rock on!" The crowd cheers, and the birthday girl stomps off mutter a string of censored curses.

You can see how much everybody cares for her here.

Earlier on her mother brought her to get a belly piercing, which she thought looked 'COOL' and commented on it, "Now I really feel sixteen!"

Yes, I can totally see how 'sixteen' you are just by looking at the belly piercing on your belly button. Oh wait, I can't even see it. *rolls eyes*

What does it mean to be 'sixteen' anyway? A large birthday bash? A sleek, beautiful Mercedes to drive around in and show off to your friends, having them clamour all over you and sucking up to you just so they can hitch a ride? A belly piercing? A sparkly, skimpy dress to prance around in and show off your wonderfully voluptuous figure? A boy in tight black trousers and a bow tie (no shirt, remember?) holding the hand which paid him to do so while walking toward a crowd of screaming teenagers who are either lusting after your flesh or the boy's well-toned abbs?

How about some maturity? How about some common sense? How about some LASTING friendships?

What's wrong with the pop culture these days? Can't they advertise the value of friendship instead of expensive celebrations and fragile relationships built on flimsy dollar bills and credit cards?

I can't help but compare what I'm seeing on the television with what I see around me daily. On the television I see raging hormones and glamarous expenditures, in Singapore I don't see any of this. Maybe being in a rather academically-focussed school has locked me out of some of the wilder sides of today's teenagers, but you don't see the local media adveritising that kind of selfish, money-minded and pleasure seeking lifestyle to our youngsters. The media, even with all its faults and opacity with issues like censorship, advocates lasting commitments and the value of emotional support and encouragement.

When I look at my sister in retrospect, I figure that hey, maybe she isn't so bad after all. Maybe, if I try, I can bring her back to the emotionally sensitive girl she was once before. Maybe, if I try hard enough, she will care less about the materialistic demands of her 'friends' and instead try to make real friends that don't need a S$30+ dress for her birthday present. Maybe, just maybe, if I try, I can make her see that she doesn't money so much after all.

I don't really know what is going to happen to the society if the media continues broadcasting these kinds of shows. I don't WANT to know what will happen. I hope that MTV will either stop airing these kinds of frivolous shows and start screening something of VALUE, or that Singapore will censor MTV's programs, like it does everything else.

I for one and glad for Singapore's strict censorship, because I cannot fathom what kind of future generation of leaders we will be nurturing if being a party heiress is something that is on their 'Top 10 Jobs I Desire' list. I simply cannot (and refuse to) imagine the future that lies ahead of Singapore should such wild behaviour be encouraged through the media.

I will not say I am a strong individual and am forever resistant to the increasing influential power of the media, so let me ask this favour of you. If you ever see me doing something as crazy as what MTV is promoting, let me know. Show me this blog post, and hope that I have enough sense left in me to figure out that what I'm doing is not what I want.

I want to live a fulfilling life knowing the value of friends, family, and the God up there who loved me enough to sacrifice his son for my redemption. I don't want a life of spirally disrepair knowing only of money and how to please myself.

I want to LIVE.

I don't want to blow up a picture of my pretty face and hang it in the entrance hall to welcome my guests and feel a burst of happiness when they say that the girl in the picture is sexy and beautiful. I don't want to show cleavage and smile like a thousand suns when someone tells me that they're jealous of me. That's not living. That's just plain degrading.

Of course, I neither have a pretty face nor some incredible cleavage, but I'm sure you get what I mean.

I want to LIVE.

And when I die, I want people to remember my NAME, not the party I hosted 50 years ago. I want them to remember that I'm the girl who lent them an eraser when they had none. I want them to remember me as the stranger that picked up a wallet and returned it when they dropped it. I want them to remember the sincere desire to help them, or just to let them know that I care, whoever they are.

I want to LIVE.

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I also watched an episode of ‘Teens Cribs’ or something where this 13 year old American boy was showing the TV crew around his magnificent home. I cannot deny its magnificence, but I also cannot deny that I thought, 'If you have money to build a basketball court, a pool larger than my home, at least 5 bedrooms twice the size of mine, 2 gyms, a movie theatre, a bowling alley, a golf course, a sauna and so much more, buy a normal house, spend time with your family, and donate the unnecessary money away to charity!'

The parents were commenting on how they want their children to have the best facilities, so that when their friends come over they will always have something to do. I don't understand their way of thinking. I really don't.

Shouldn't they be encouraging friendship built on emotional bonds? What are they doing about those friendships built on material wealth that is being accumulated?

I don't enjoy the way the boy goes, "Now that I've showed you my awesome room and awesome gym I'm going to show you XXX because I think it will amaze you." "This is where we play table tennis. I always win of course." "Oh, we play tic-tac-toe here too. Of course, I'm the best."

WHAT?

Did I also mention that each of the 5 children have a ride each, either a scooter or a motorcycle, and the dad has 2 rides, a very large jeep-like thing that seats the entire family and a rather cool looking bike that is huge beyond what should be allowed of something that's called a 'bike'?

-----------------------------------------------

Today wasn’t spectacular, but it certainly started off rather interestingly. My father overslept today (didn’t hear the digital alarm clock go off) and since he was my alarm clock, I overslept too. I ended up waking at 06:15, a whole half hour later than when I usually do wake up. I missed the school bus, quite obviously.

Because of this my father decided that he would send me to school directly by the car, which I was elated to hear because I hardly ever take the car. In fact, I don’t take it unless it’s a weekend or a special day because I don’t need the car to get to and from school. Being very new to waking up at 06:15, I didn’t really know what to do. Well, yes, I knew I had to brush my teeth and tie my hair, but I was rather lost outside of that.

My father dropped my mother off at Toa Payoh MRT station before sending my sister to her school. To be honest, her school looked like it was located in the middle of nowhere. Traffic was almost non-existent, something very odd for a school with that kind of prestige (St. Nick’s). Perhaps we were early, because my dad was rushing to get me to school on time.

I arrived at school at around 07:05, 15 minutes later than I usually do. Morning assembly went on as usual, and classes bored me, same as ever. The first period was PE. We all went down to the field and those who weren’t helping Amanda take her PE assessment were made to run 2 rounds around the track.

ShuYing and I did run the first one until she got a stitch under the area where her heart is supposed to be, so we stopped running and walked for a while. Mr. Ho saw us walking and yelled at us to continue running. I was rather amused at how he didn’t bother checking the situation before demanding something from us. But we ran though, because Mr. Ho can be scary when he wants to be and we dare not take risks.

We completed the first round, and were completely horrified to find out that we were ‘ordered’, so to speak, to run twice. Being horrified and mortified by the prolonged running period did not stop us from running, though, because it was teacher’s orders, and we are good students after all.

However, due to the ‘chronic’ fatigue caused by the first round around the track, we walked half the entire stretch of the track before continuing to run, and ended up as the last to return back to the finishing point, wheezing and panting like we had ran a marathon. For a person as unfit as me, yes, I do believe this can be considered a kind of physically taxing race.

After some stretching led by Thao (it was her, right?) we proceeded to the car park area which doubled as a parade square to play some very ruthless Captain’s Ball. Well, not ‘we’, more like ‘they’. ShuYing and I stood off to a corner of the court where our Captain was and waited like soldiers on guard duty for a ball to come our way.

It’s rare for the ball to head our way, that’s for sure, because neither of us really have a history of being fantastic at sports, so people find it much harder to trust us than those physically active people like Annabel. I completely understand, and since I myself didn’t really want to get my hands all funny smelling and dirty by touching the ball, I was satisfied.

Then the moment when the ball flew our way came. I am inclined to believe that this ball was a stray ball, because I can’t think of any reason why anyone would pass the ball to this ‘hopeless at sports with zero motivation and spirit’ person, especially when it was so close to the goal.

Being the nice team mate I was I scored ‘beautifully’, and it was nice having people say, “Nice one” to me for a change, although it did feel a bit awkward and I turned away immediately after confirming we had scored successfully. It was nice knowing that for a few moments people relied and depended on me, but I shouldn’t get caught up in this feeling because people don’t naturally gravitate towards me. I have to do something to get people to do so, and I am not willing to try and take my place among the ‘athletic’ group of people. I was never really athletic in the first place, just a little more physically fit than others.

The ball came my way many times afterwards, and I believe I heard ‘Pass to (insert my name here)’ a couple of times. Wow, didn’t know my ‘trustworthiness’ at handling balls and scoring shot up by so much with just one goal. This kind of feels a little superficial, like what I was ranting about earlier, except this does not deal with material wealth but ability to score (which, by the way, is a completely useless ability unless I decide to delve into a sporting career, which I will not).

I missed a goal and the ball never came after that.

Huh, talk about fickle-minded.

The game ended with Celine being carried off quite literally by all fours because she injured herself trying to defend her side. I found out later that she was injured so badly she needed a wheelchair to move about. No bone was broken whatsoever but her ankle swelled up really badly so she couldn’t wear her shoes without further aggravating the injury (hence the wheelchair).

I was told to carry one of the chairs used to the PE room, which I had no idea where it was. As I was making my way there after some nice soul told me it was down the slope and far away (and apparently very smelly too, I reminded myself, since that’s where all the PE equipments came from and the equipments stink), Mr. Ho turned to ShuYing and I and accused us of not playing, to which I retorted with a, “I got touch the ball lor!” Well, excuse my horrible English. I’m usually like that unless writing or trying to speak in a formal setting (like the English orals which I didn’t do quite as well as I would have liked).

The chair didn’t stink as bad as the ball, so I was okay with carrying it. I just didn’t really like that I had to walk that far with this blue thing in my hands (and above my head, because I like carrying things that way). Thankfully I was told to leave the chair outside the PE room, which was a win-win situation for both me and the teacher. No smelly rooms, and someone brought the chair back.

Makes me wonder, why couldn’t the teacher bring it back himself?

Recess was next, and a horrible recess it was too since, among the rush in the morning due to the late awaking, I did not bring my usual triple-decker sandwich and had to purchase some really expensive buns and still not be full. I had a papaya later to try and fill my stomach. Didn’t work.

Chinese lesson was rather okay. I drew a bit, but nothing much, because we were going through a practice paper we did the earlier lesson and I needed to copy down the answers. I learnt quite a bit, although I’m not sure it will make much of a difference in my Chinese grades.

Assembly consisted of a talk by Mrs. Hoo which overshot the time limit and ended up eating into Social Studies. Mr. Lim came late anyway so I guess it didn’t change anything. I don’t remember much from the talk, all I did recall was ‘Not all that can be counted counts’. Heh, I thought it sounded cool, so maybe that was why I remembered it.

Social Studies went on as usual, with a bit of revision here and there and everywhere. The entire lesson was a revision one. I drew during this lesson, filling up the sheet of paper I drew on in Chinese class with the same character and his ‘foster’ daughter who is only three years younger than him.

Math lesson after that was quite a bore. I did get quite some things done, but not a lot. There was a bunch of new worksheets to be done that was given out today and which I dread doing (a lot). But I really do need to work on my radians and geometrical properties of a circle because I just stink at those topics, so the revision material was good, I guess.

I ate lunch with AY and a few of her friends which gathered around the table like salt crystals growing from a seed suspended in a solution of dissolved salt.

Math remedial was okay, but I was a little late since I couldn’t find the classroom. I finished worksheet 4 for geometrical properties of a circle and did some questions about angle properties. I like angle properties. I like angles. The sad thing is, I can’t memorise the names of the proofs.

The bus ride home was uneventful as usual. The walk home, however, is a different thing altogether. I quite enjoyed it, in fact.

It started raining while I was on the bus, so when I got off I whipped out my trusty umbrella, put it over my head and walked out of the bus stop and into the pouring torrent. At first I was bent on keeping my entire body dry, but I soon came to learn that it was a rather futile attempt since the winds were as unpredictable as my grades.

So I focussed on keeping my bag dry and calculator from fizzing out in a beautiful display of bright red sparks. The rain soaked my entire pinafore from the tip to the top. Even my glasses weren’t spared the splatter of tiny raindrops on them. MY GLASSES. They sit right at the top of my nose, not at my feet. If my glasses can get wet, anything can get wet. No, I’m not walking on my hands, if that’s what you’re wondering.

The rain was incredibly heavy, and the gushing waves that curled and hurled in the drains threatened to engulf it entirely. You could see the power and raw force spurring the rolling waves forward, sending them crashing into the stone sides of the drain and trying to break free. The sound was music to my ears, and the sight a feast for the eyes. I adore these things.

The cars that rolled by me splashed water all the way up to my waist. The water felt dirty, but I couldn’t really tell because the pinafore had already turned into a very dark shade of blue by then after soaking up so much rain water.

I was really tempted to throw my umbrella off my head and dance about in the rain since I love this kind of weather, but what held me back was the fact that I had important worksheets in my bag that cannot, ABSOLUTELY CANNOT, get wet. Oh, I would be doomed if I had to photocopy every single one of those…

It was also rather cold, and I got goose bumps and shivered like an intelligent chicken in a slaughter house. I still love the rain. Thank God that the heavy rain was on Friday, if not I wouldn’t know what shoe to wear tomorrow since it probably wouldn’t have dried yet.

Wednesday’s rain was moderately heavy, so my shoes got kind of wet. They weren’t dry by the next day but I still wore them anyway since they weren’t that wet. Thursday’s rain was fairly light in comparison. My shoes didn’t get as wet, so they had dried when this morning rolled by. Today’s rain was on a completely different level.

My shoes turned into sponge on overload mode and with every step I could feel water being squished out of the cloths of the shoe, and my feet could practically swim in them. It was an odd experience, but I have come by it before a few times.

Ah, monsoon periods are beautiful.

Now all I need is a pair of back-up shoes.

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Oh, I don’t think I mentioned this yet.

I PASSED MY PIANO EXAM! So yeah, maybe it was only Grade 5, maybe it was a bare pass (and by bare I really mean it), but that is still a pass, and that still means that after my EYAs are over I can immediately unwrap that tablet waiting for me downstairs and use it right away! Isn’t that exciting! I can’t wait to try it out! How will my art change after that?

Heh, the fine string on which the tablet was hanging from has been cut! The tablet now sits a few laps away; all I need to do now is run to it. The race will end when EYAs end. I wish it was sooner.