The Blah Entry

I am feeling totally lost. I don't know what to do. This unprecedented state of mind came immediately after I completed a bad day of mid-term tests (I had a Sociology essay and French test, along with a Philosophy paper due today). I believe I screwed them all up, but I have decided not to think about them and upset myself.

I feel so stupid. I should just get married, believe my husband when he says I'm clever, have lots of babies, and be one sexy mummy with her prenatal figure by the time my child hits his first year (I want daughters, but I suspect God will give me sons).

I want to do things that I thought I wanted to do while in the midst of preparing for this mid-term. But now that they are almost over, I don't know what I want to do anymore. Do I want to watch TV? Read the papers? Go to the movies? Chat online? Clean my room? Talk to everyone on my floor?

I don't know. I just don't feel like doing anything.

This has got to be the most spontaneous blog entry. I am writing it as instantaneously as these thoughts enter my mind. It's a mindless and trivial blog entry, what many bloggers write anyway.

I didn't feel like eating dinner today, so I exchanged my dinner coupon for 4 apples. I know if I don't eat dinner, I will get hungry later. But I didn't feel force-feeding myself at dinner. I forced-fed myself 3 times today simply for the same reason -- that if I didn't eat at that point, I would eventually be hungry and by that time, I won't be able to have access to food because I'm either sitting for my French or Soci test.

I don't like how I'm writing. I don't like seeing myself use "don't" instead of "do not". I don't like seeing my writing with "But's" as the first word of my sentences.

This is just reflective of my unprecedented mood. I just don't know what to do with myself. I have one last Malay test to study for tonight, but I can't bring myself to lift a productive finger.

I auditioned and got into hall production, but I'm not excited. I wish I was.

I'm talking too much and I don't like it.

I don't know what to do with myself.

My Hostel

This is how my the new K ent R idge Hall looks like. This is actually a photo of S heares Hall -- that's what my block toilet overlooks, but the two halls look the same anyway. Rather condo-like right? Nice.. :)



The corridor on my level..


I just realised I shouldn't put this photo up. It completely reveals where I live, but at the point that I am writing this, I am having my period and feeling both irrational and insensitive to logic.


This is how my cosy room looks like. I love the blue board. My rubbish bin is a big good-quality paper bag with a yellow plastic bag in it.



What I wear to bed (I had not got my blanket yet, so this was the best I could do when I went to sleep):


Finally, the life of my room.. :)
I was absolutely ecstatic when I had guestS in my new weekday home! It was a great house-warming with 6 of us cramped in my room.

Pak-Tor-ing @ MacRitchie

Ly, who wisely decided to complete his last 3 months of National Service during this university break before going on to his fourth and final year at NIE, cleared his leave last week and we went for a nature date @ MacRitchie. Our purpose in making the journey there was to see the newly-opened and recently-hyped-about Treetop Walk -- a suspension kind of bridge in the canopy of MacRitchie.

Typical of me, I started our journey by feeding us plums.

(Yes, not the most glamourous shots of the two of us, but I guarantee you we are as sweet as the plums.)

See what I mean?

I have only been to MacRitchie briefly once in my life for a torturous "cross-country" run while in JC that left me barely conscious to take in my surroundings. So here I am, finding everything I see, brand new.

The dam!

A boat in the middle of the reservoir!

Big Terrapin!

We begin on our trail...

So Singaporean -- before you enter the sacred ground, the welcoming signboard warns the obedient people that thou shalt not commit the act of.. blah blah blah (x4)..

Walk, walk, walk.. But here are some of the highlights of the 5km walk there (don't forget that meant +5km walk back too).

Check out this plant's defence system.. I bet this is a female plant..

Fungified leaf

Funky fushroom -- It looks like fungi growing on fungi

Peculiar leaves - like paper cut-outs..

Digitally-enhanced, but this really is the work of nature. (Click for enlargement) The three twines/air roots/branches/whatever actually meet together to form a Mercedes logo!

I would not have dared to get this close to the yellow bug. My Olympus camera's zoom is deceptive.

After about 2 hours of mundane trekking, we finally arrived at what seemed like the entrance of the much-awaited and much-sweated-for Treetop Walk. As you can see, I was rather exhausted by this point. The final stretch had been an unpleasant uphill climb.

The friendly Treetop man.

Tadaa!

I've conquered the bridge! Yey!!!

Can you see the depth? (Actually, it's not that fascinating lah, quite disappointing actually.)

Gotcha! Digitally-enhanced, or rather digitally-transformed photo of an ugly and badly-taken tree:

A PRC helped us take our one and only photo together (without the close-up-ness of self-holding the camera).

All sweaty and really gross-looking, we ended the trip (halfway at least) the same way we started it -- with another bite. Ly had lovingly prepared these egg-tomato sandwiches prior to our venture. The white squares on my face are the censored portions where I had gotten my mayonaise all over. Embarassing. Ly didn't tell me I had those tell-tale spots of my greed -- he must have been too tired to give me another romantic gaze I guess (but frankly, I'm in a mess here).

For the background details, we really were a soft and pathetic pair (or perhaps I had influenced him to pamper me). For starters, Ly had driven us to MacRitchie in cool air-con luxury. We thought we were having a good workout trekking up and panting, but two groups of retirees overtook us with ease while we advanced towards the goal. After we emerged triumphant (and beaten) from the Treetop trail, we took a degrading shortcut. Instead of returning the same way we came, we walked about half a kilometre to Singapore Something Country Club and called for a cab which took us in comfort to where Ly had parked his Mazda.

Nevertheless, this was the first time I had been on a nature trek, just with my Sweetheart. It was really quite romantic actually... I kept ranting about how happy I was through the 3 hours we were there. I had never quite been alone with him and doing something. If it was a movie, shopping, strolling, cycling, badmintoning or eating, there always were people of the public around.

Hence, the conclusion of the matter (of this long blog entry): This double date with Ly and nature was thoroughly fulfilling. :)

Peanuts

I am not sure if it is the landed property edge that Ly has and I do not, that has Singapore Press Holdings sending him Today along with his copy of The Straits Times while I get my Straits Times -- period.

Anyway, for those who are deprived of the tabloid paper (because you don't have Today delivered to your doorstep, or you don't join the early morning MRT rush where you can pick up your free copy in the yellow stand), you probably would have missed this NKF saga article by mr brown, a very famous non-adolescent blogger by now.

Presenting the Mr Brown Fund.

By the way, speaking of NKF & the peanuts comment, I thought Mr Goh Chok Tong was really loving (although somewhat patronising) when he defended Mrs Goh Chok Tong.

Senior Minister Goh Chok Tong said his wife, who is the former patron of NKF, regretted saying that the charity's ex-CEO Mr TT Durai's annual pay package of some S$600,000 was "peanuts".

Mr Goh spoke to the media about the issue at a school celebration on Saturday.

Mrs Goh's remark on Mr Durai's annual salary on Tuesday raised many eyebrows and upset many more.

Senior Minister Goh said his wife now regretted making that comment.

He added: "When she told me what she said at home, I told her immediately, you're in trouble. There'll be negative reaction and sure enough the next day, Singaporeans reacted generally quite critically to her remarks and it's understandable because NKF is a charity and Singaporeans contribute to the NKF and they don't earn much."

Mr Goh added that he shared the public's sentiments and showed Mrs Goh several emails and letters he had received about her remarks.

Mr Goh said: "To educate her I showed her the letters and emails and now I think she understands better what she said was not quite in order but she explains why she said it. She told me that she was thinking of the organisation, she said that if you look at the organisation, the right person must be paid the right wage, but of course she put it across that way, the rest is history."

Nevertheless, Ah Goh is still my man.

Outgoing & Sociable, But Alone

A guy from Arts Orientation Camp rang me up late one night. I enjoyed chatting with him till he found out I was attached at which point he said, "Oh my gosh, I feel so embarrassed now."

I laughed. I did not think there was anything to be embarrassed about, but apparently I could hear him turn pink over the phone. Anyway, we continued talking until I eventually succumbed to fatigue. His parting line was, "Wow, my impression of you has changed over this phone call."

Of course, taking the cue, I probed further.

" I thought you were very wild -- ok, let me rephrase that -- outgoing, but after tonight, I am wondering which convent you came from. You're quite scary actually."



Basically, I feel so different from all my peers. I have not found any one within 5 years of my age who has thought/is thinking of settling down.

I am quite sure that those of you reading this also do not share my sentiments.

Yes, I want to settle down young. I want to have 2 kids before I hit 30; the final number being three. I cannot wait to build up my nest, shop for furniture from IKEA, make sure my dear husband does not allow our home to turn into a dumping yard, laze around on Sunday afternoon after church in our air-con master room with the curtains drawn and him leaning over me as we read some lifestyle magazine together then have afternoon weekend sex before he takes us out for supermarket shopping in the evening.

I want to tender my resignation, or at least long-term no-pay-leave application when my babies arrive. I want to plan our dinner menu, try to master boiling some soup favourites, get rid of my fear of peeling prawns (their legs remind me of cockroaches -- the sea version), be rid of my strong hesitance to fry fish and dirty the kitchen, cook for my husband, sing hymns to my children..

I do not understand why I feel these urges so strongly raging within me while on the other hand, I have peers swearing that they will not get married till at least 30 so they can experience life in her full glory first. I shan't go down to being moralistic, self-righteous or the last bit trend-analysing. Whichever is the "right" feeling to feel at this age, why is it I don't conform with the mindset of the rest? Have I been a hermit, an anti-social recluse, a radical, living in my own bubble, socially insensitive all this while? Did I grow up in a different air? Or is it simply because I have found The One? The One whom I can plan and imagine living that life with?

This is what makes me feel so set apart from my peers. This issue crops up (again) because I am entering a new social phase of my life. I am possibly going to be staying in hostel, full of promiscuous young adults, wild and free, unbounded by an relationship of plans for the future. I am going to be interacting once again with people my age (a year teaching at a government school did not leave me with many friendly social engages with the like-age). I tremble with eager anticipation at returning to young life, yet a tad fearful that I won't find a group who can accept me the way I am, or a group I can accept.

Please, if there is even one person who shares my
sentiments,

please sound yourself out,

let me hear you and take comfort

that I am not alone.

If there aren't any, then lend me some words of consolation, assurance that I will find my place in university among real friends despite who I am.

An Assortment of Photos From Long Ago

See what I got from the Great Singapore Sale! 5 tubs of Body Butter in assorted flavours for my year's supply till the next Great Singapore Sale. I love Body Butter. I have not found anything better than it so far. Yes, it's sticky and all, but it lasts for about 2 days each time I apply it. Originally $24.90, I manage to buy each at only $10.90. On top of that, I even got a $10 Body Shop cash voucher, no strings attached. I've been really waiting for my favourite product to go on sale since last year. Hee... Now you see the shopping girl in me.

Can you remember my Bu Dao Ong clock? I smashed it to smitherins by accident one day. =( Anyway, there's something interesting in the background of this photo too -- my Old Chang Kee currypuff! I absolutely love these... When I am out at Bugis or Tampines, I'll make sure I get my dose for breakfast (microwave, then gently toasted to regain that crispy crust), but usually end up eating half of it before the next morning.

I have been intending to put this photo up for ages. This was taken somewhere during the rainy season this year. That's more than a couple of months ago. Anyway, this is the longkang view from my bedroom. The tree with bright orange leaves just stood out so beautifully. My camera could not catch the full beauty of this scene. About a week later, the leaves fell and fresh bright green leaves sprouted.. absolutely lovely. Fall and Spring in Bedok Reservoir. (=

Please click for enlargement. I wanted to put this up 6 months ago, after my Penang trip. I caught this sleazy Classifieds page off the local newspapers.

Torture Device 2005(beta) Edition

My poor 16-year-old sister has just had this torture contraption installed into her mouth. Apparently, her jaw is too narrow and that is affecting her spine. (I don't know how those two are related.)

On a daily basis, she will insert a thin metal tool to turn the screw which is right in the middle on the contraption) in order to increase the width of the metal device. Yes, it does hurt. Each round she turns the screw, her jaw gets pushed apart a quarter of a millimetre.

She sounds like Darth Vader when she tries to suck out the food that gets stuck in between the contraption and her upper palete.

Everybody say "Aw!'

School

I'm feeling happy.

Before I left school on this lovely Friday, I cleared my work, my backlog of marking (most of at it at least) and my bowels.

The Semestral Assessment has just ended with me not having been assigned any marking, so you bet it has been a real good break this week for me. I spend half the day from Monday to Wednesday stoning while looking fierce invigilating examinations.

There's a ghost in my school. I am quite certain of it because I don't think Primary 2's can coordinate a lie well.

During recess, a number of P2's went to an uluated toilet on the fourth level. When they returned, they were all raving about the ghost. After the excitement and brahaha, I finally got the girls who actually saw the ghost to stand up. I had three of those girls -- innocent and reliable girls who gave the same account of the apparition.

"Got long hair.

"Don't know whether boy or girl."

"Stand like a ghost. (and agreed when I made a jiang-xi pose)"

"Got blood from the side of the heads (pointing towards somewhere slightly below the temples)

I told them, just as a teacher is supposed to, that they shouldn't have been on the 4th floor in the first place, especially during recess. Then I told them not to talk about it anymore and not to spread the rumours. I quickly changed the point of interest and returned their Mathematics examination papers. But to be frank, my hair stood on their ends as the girls related the experience.

Later, my serious, no-nonsense collegue seated next to me talked about how she questioned another two girls from another P2 class about a similar encounter. The description given by the pale girls was:

shoulder-length hair, bulging eyeballs, blood coming from the eyes, it flew and finally..
"don't know whether it's a boy or woman"

I am normally not a believer in these supernatural things, but how can I not believe these girls?

As I am typing this blog, I just realised it's Friday the 13th.

Playing In The Rain

I was caught umbrellaless when a mini storm came; heavy rain, but not enough to give me 100% pleasure.

Anyway, I didn't want to be stranded at the bus-stop without an umbrella and being so near yet so far from home. So I garang-garangly sacrificed my own bag and put it on top of my Watson's $2 fabric briefcase which contained an endless supply of marking material.. and dashed across the road.

After that life-endangering stunt, I decided I should stroll because I was beginning to enjoy the rain on me. My happy 'disburdening' walk was pleasantly interrupted by a girl who offerred to share her umbrella. (Apparently, she is a teacher too.) I politely told her that she can just drop me off at the nearest block, afterwhich I can take the underground tunnel which happens to house cars. Thankfully she obliged.

As I continued my journey in the rain, but hoping Miss Kind Umbrella Teacher would not see me, I was beginning to wonder why I had previously been so afraid of the rain. While holding an umbrella, I would try to physically shrink to prevent the acid rain from touching me. Today, I embraced the heavenly water/water that comes from above boldly and lovingly.

After dumping my things at home, I decided I should go out again and take in the rain.

I went down, half-drenched already, and chose a seat on the sit-up equipment at the fitness corner. I put my legs up, in spite of my skirt, and watched the rain gently falling on my skin. For a brief moment, I could have mistaken my skin for plastic. I realised then why our skin needs to be waterproof. Imagine how Spongebob would do his 2.4km in the rain. He'd get heavier and soggier.. haha.. Wait, that doesn't quite make sense. Isn't he already soaking in water in the sea? Ah.. whatever.

I am just annoyed by my 2.5h stay at Tan Tock Seng Hospital today which was unnecessary but resultant of an inflexible administration/payment counter. Nevermind me... blah Blah BLAH!

My bra is soaking wet; my tiny protrusions swimming about uncomfortably in it.

NTU Discretionary Interview

I went for an interview with NTU a couple of weeks ago. It was a discretionary admissions interview (I applied through drama -- my stint at The Necessary Stage. (Can you believe the interview was on a Sunday?)

Those bespectacled professors asked me about theatre, teaching, psychology, theatre and teaching, teaching and psychology, psychology and theatre and Kuo Pao Kun.
"Tell us, how much do you know about Kuo Pao Kun?"

"Hm.. He wrote 'The Coffin Is Too Big For The Hole', 'No Parking On Odd Days'... And he's dead."

Although I looked about five times more confident than the other contenders, I think I flopped it.

The Birthday Gift Flown All The Way From New York!

Very unglamourous pictures of me right after my shower. This is what Gracie Baby (a naughty girl who's closer to my sister's age than mine..) sent me for my birthday all the way from Long Island. I love packages! (=


Opening it...... Really excited...


Taking a peek!


Tadaa!!! A two-piece! Trust kinky and naughty Grace to send me this!


Hi Grace! Thankew!!!


Hmm... Do you think Ly will like it?


My breastless breast.

Dare I put the last one up? It's me clad in the tiny pieces of material.. hahahaa... probably not!

I almost forgot my blog username and password.

I have just finished reading last Sunday's Lifestyle.
Those papers had been sitting on my table for an entire week. (Sunday papers are a must-read for me.)

I keep thinking that and expecting the next week to be a better week than the one before.
The parents-teachers meeting where I had student portfolios and comments to write took place the last two Saturdays (so much for the 5-day week). The upper ranks of my school think that Howard Gardner's 8 intelligences theory is an innovative format to base our comments on each child on. They have dreams to show this never-done-before idea during the annual congregation of MOE schools at Suntec. The main point is I had to write about all my 33 children's 8 different intelligences -- whether they have them or not. The 8 intelligences are:
1) Verbal/Linguistic i.e. English oral and written
2) Mathematical/Logical i.e. aptitude for Maths and ability to reason
3) Visual/Spacial i.e. I easily commented on their Art for this one
4) Musical/Rhythmic i.e. Tone-deaf or not
5) Kinesthetic i.e. Can run and bounce a ball? Walks about and figits in class?
6) Interpersonal i.e. Getting along with friends and teachers
7) Intrapersonal i.e. Self-confidence? Self-reflection?
8) Naturalist This beats me too. So far, I've shallowly and in desperation limited my comments to the child's interest in nature and care for her environment, although I'm sure it is more than just that.

The UpperLevel wants to have every single bubble filled because it is believed that all children have all 8 intelligences, even if it is to varying degrees (e.g. negligible). I have been told to write comments positively and am banned from writing "Not observable" in any section.

Can you imagine how difficult this is: to observe 33 kids through the term, document your observations, to have every section filled (it is akin to squeezing blood out of a dry rock) and euphemistically and politically-correctly phrase my not-necessarily-accurate observations. Now you know why those letters have been going to the press about the strain of teaching.

I love the kids; I love teaching. It is what happens after the dismissal bell rings that taxes me.

I promise to resurrect my blog properly. Expect more (I'm putting on pressure on myself to deliver..) pictures too. Hopefully some naughty ones can get published..

The Shoe Salesman Who Swept Me Off My Feet

I just got a new pair of New Balance shoes from the Parkway World of Sports branch.

The design, make and comfort of the shoes is not as important as the man who led me to buy it.

I'm so happy with his service -- professional, non-obliging, not too friendly, very helpful and oblivious to his existence as a big help.

I was so happy I wanted to buy him flowers.

His name is Victor. He is tall and not that handsome, but decent-looking. Quite a nerd actually, but his service was pleasurable to me...

I have come to realise that good-looking guys don't appeal to me as much as the male machoness of an average-looking Joe. I find a man's pair of hands on a steering wheel absolutely sexy. I get a big kick from seeing men at work, especially of the physically labourious nature. I love to observe men concentrate as they make decisions -- that process where they take charge and are fully aware of the responsibilities entrusted to them. I think men who are in their late twenties or thirties have an attractive charm about them that comes with age, which is most of the time indicative of the cumulation of wisdom from their life experiences.

Am I some sick pervert? I love men.

The bu4-dao3-ong1 clock.

The pretty box.

And the metal case, a very simple, but original gift, and very much appreciated with its sincerity and amusement.