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...
