2 days a'counting

Wah lao. My hair is drying up like grass apt for a Great Australian Bushfire. While Jack laughs at how Amy Winehouse burned her hair up in Disaster Movie, I'm fretting that I'll turn out that way too. Okay, away with the rambling.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was bad. Probably worse than all the other 4 already-horrid parters mushed together. The only saving grace was Rupert Grint, who enacted the role of Ron Weasley falling deep into potion-induced love. The rest of the cast was... dry. Worse than Gin. Worse than bad wine. Worse than shaving nicks. I'm hoping Up, which will be opening next month, will be worth much more than this bad adaptation.

And strangely but truly, I've been getting questions from my cbox (thank God I read my cbox occasionally) regarding NUS Geyao's Welcome Tea. Everyone probably got to my blog because I leave way too many digital tags and keywords on my blog, and being way too blatant with my words. Anyway, while our lovely Tian Ze's working on revamping our Geyao site (kudos to our IT director), feel absolutely free to drown my blog with queries until we get it fixed, or until I post more details about it here. Welcome Tea 2008 done by Jack and me had been great fun, and I hope we can share this love for making music with like-minded freshmen (and seniors) who wish for a platform to showcase their musical inclinations. Welcome Tea 2009 is going to be a blast as well, from the looks of it. Well, mark your calendars first, on the 19th (Wed) and 21st (Fri) of August 2009, because NUS Geyao will be rocking YIH Function Room 2 down!

Julie wonders...

...why Megan Fox exercises zilch but looks like zilch.
...why guys like smokey eyes on girls when they look uber punched out.
...if make-up should be banned for simple fact that they make non-believers look like shit.
...if curls are going to be difficult to maintain, along with the new school term.
...why some people can be sooooo tone-deaf, and not be charged in court. Excuse the exaggeration.
...if I'll be able to survive the next 3-inch heels I'm contemplating to buy.
...how the Harry Potter movie could get so B-rated trashy.
...why the little girls shrieked when Harry kissed Ginny. You mean they're actually in love with HIM?!
...why kids can't just stick their arses on their chairs during tuition.
...if boys who don't grow up NS should be castrated.
...how some people can treat love as charity.
...if Fay is going to bring me goodies back from Japan come next week. Muahaha.
...if I should buy another pair of shorts for the trip.
...if my throat is going to survive through this week, and make it to the Welcome Tea.
...why you're paying me $18 an hour and expect me to make your monkeys ace their exams.
...why she isn't already enthusiastic about the trip.
...why some people can drive for decades and still manage enough clumsiness to de-bumper their cars.
...if 3 oranges a day will kill my throat, or kill me with a Vitamin C overdose.
...why I'm the lucky one with the sweet boyfriend and unrequitted love.

And we all smile like delicate flowers

Yes, I'll be slaughtered when someone finds out that I'm penning this down way past bedtime. But I'm so afraid that good times will be lost in memory when I wake up tomorrow morning. Make hay while the sun shines.


We're both humane, nostalgic creatures when it comes to love. It's the ideals we harbour, the qualities we each possess, and the uncanny mirroring that surprises us to no ends in this relationship. With every day and every step into this perfectly imperfect little world of ours, the more we see of the other's strengths, weaknesses, loves, hates, as well as the way our hands, hugs and kisses fit together to a T. And yes, this is all to you, the one I'll treasure as long as I live, breathe and love.


Happy 17th month to us, to love.

Yes. Blogspot decided to stop us (me, at least) from trying to upload photos. But can you really stop the missus?

I cracked myself up this morning, when it took me the walk from my house to the bus stop to realise that I had a hole in my slipper. Yes, the rubber had burned through, and I had to make a mad rush for the market to grab a pair of makeshift slips for $4. BATA literally stands for Buy-And-Throw-Away.

Oh, and of yesterday, to celebrated Fay's belated 21st birthday. We literally walked all over Chinatown, to get cake, to get lunch, and then to get to the KTV place. It's hidden neatly away from the hustle and bustle of city life, and dangerously near that spa place we went to the other time. But the system was pretty updated, and we kind of had our way with the songs. And I found that voice I wanted so much back. *Purrs* It's a steal, for a package for 5-6 people at $58/=. NETT! 4 hours, 6 drinks, fruits, snacks, what more can we ask for?



Happy Birthday, pretty girl!


Dear Jane got us stuff from Korea! I absolutely heart the purple stickers and the Schmutterling earrings! Plus loads of food, food, food, stationery, food...

-_-

In case you're wondering, yes, Blogspot is so screwed. Apparently they're ignoring the hoards of complaints bombarding them regarding this very, very mis-aligned 'New Post' page; it looks as though someone ran a lawn mower all over it; all the boxes are missing, all the formatting buttons are missing, and I had to Ctrl+A to find my entry box. Bad Blogger. Baaaaaaad Blogger.


And my cash supply is drying up steadily. I'll probably go broke by next week, if my tuition fees are not in, and if I can't curb my obsessive habit of reading. I wonder how Jia Hui built her collection, because I'm almost broke after 5 books. And I wanna buy some more! Plus the trip will see myself splurging on weird stuff, so I don't know if I even have enough to pull me through this semester. Urgh. 談錢傷感情.

Jack and I were down at the airport after band practice yesterday at midnight. No, we weren't trying to sneak away into oblivation and elope in France (though that's a very attractive idea). Dad flew back especially for the matriarch's birthday TODAY, and he's flying off come Sunday. Now who said I was the stubborn, mollycoddled one? Driving on the ECP was a great way to substantiate my stand to Jack that Singaporean drivers are horrid, be there a P-plate or not. And we never knew that the airport carpark nested a comfortable coven of flashy cars like the Fair Lady convertible, some Jaguars, plus alot of cars you wouldn't even dream of. Best thing of all? My Dad was the one who suggested that Jack came along.


And worst thing of all? Bidding starts TODAY.

Bad week. Baaaaad.

Yeah. I know. You all have got bad weeks as well. Mine pretty much sucked.




1. By now, loyal readers (if I even have any) would have known that I'm having a cold war with my mum, because she was reluctant about me having a 2-day-1-night holiday at Batam. I lost count of the number of days (up til today) she hasn't spoken a word to me.



2. 2 entries ago I mentioned visiting the smoker-filled Marina Barrage. You know, visiting the biggest hoo-haa in Singapore was pretty amazing.

The scenery was breath-taking, and the entire building was awe-inspiring. Plus, the entire waterfront was visible from any vantage point of the building's grassy roof. We had 2 big surprises that night. One was watching the fireworks from the NDP rehearsals. They had heart-shaped fireworks this time round! The second surprise was having the sky rain elephants halfways through the show, us trampling down the greenery of the roof, me getting a terrible stitch on my left, and getting stuck at the Barrage for almost 2 hours.

3. I had the worst rehearsal, on my part, yesterday. I loved《手心》 with the full band arrangement, but I hated it with my voice. I couldn't even stand listening to my own recording. The band's chemistry was brilliant, with the President to helm it, Kane, Shaun, Shee Leng and UFong to kick-ass the old arrangement. I bet I spoilt all the magic. (Sidenote: Geyaorians work magic; Raymond conjured a cajon out of nothing! Kudos to our instrument middleman cum play-it-all guy.)

4. Today. While I got to do what I've wanted to always do (grab my favourite book, hole up, dig in, and slurp up the great plot), I wasn't expecting alot of sidetracks. The 2 girls behaved like monkeys today, and I was doubling as a babysitter on top of being their thoroughly abused tutor. Plus they had a freaky tenant around my age called Ivan who looks like a Ah Beng through and through. The girls bully him, though. Then I went to Popular and couldn't find Book 4 by the old publisher. Big ouch. So I had to suffice with the new book, which totally didn't fit into my collection. At all. I then naively thought that I could waste away at a sparsely populated MOS with my book, then Lunch Hour totally threw me off. Aside from having guys occupying ALL the tables around me, there was a horde of NS boys decked in No.4s and the new chopped-veggie print uniform drowning out the 80's music with their incessant roars of laughter. I wanted SOOOOO much to zap them with the five elements, when I realised that I wasn't Zoey Redbird. Shucks. And I believe that everyone who doesn't read the House of Night series would be misguided by the cover's illustrations.

See what I mean? And I think everyone who saw me with the book thought I was reading some kind of erotica. Haha. I don't invest in erotica. It's available online, FOC.

And what a way to end my day, to have both of us fall real hard, scrap our knees, and pull each other up again. And we're going to continue walking down this road, no matter how many times we hit a rock.

The non-exhaustive birthday wishlist

I know this is early, but better early than never. I didn't use to think that turning 21 could be a huge affair, until I stumbled upon the birthday photos of my friends on Facebook. Am I supposed to tell the entire world that I was adding another candle to my cake? Anyway, in an attempt to manifest the birthday monster upon myself and everyone in my vicinity, I've drawn up the infinite wish list, for the convenience of those who totally wanna upset my birthday by giving me something I'll probably give to the Salvation Army.

The Infinite Wishlist:

FOX gift vouchers

Pull & Bear gift vouchers

GV movie vouchers

D90 body + macro lens

ASUS G60 gaming laptop

The Vampire Diaries

Braun epilator

Non-flower bouquets

Anything purple

Razor mouse

F1 Village tickets

Razor optical mouse

12-hour KTV marathon

Agnes B tote

And after the materialistic me subsides, there are the intangible gifts that outweigh everything else on top. While I've been relatively blessed when it comes to friends, family and love, there are those fleeting moments when I wish that some things could have been changed, and that some people could have been more understanding. And all these mean so much more to me.

Sat sat sat

I'm running out of titles for my entries.


Saturdays are always jam-packed with activities, but most of the time is spent pitting my retarded brains against boardgaming veterans like Gordon and his missus. As far as yesterday got, it looks like I'm back to my losing streaks. That's supposed to be the norm, isn't it? It's either that, or Gordon got so fed up after losing to me in Puerto Rico, he played against himself secretly. After dinner, Gordon drove us to the Marina Barrage, only to end up getting confused by the contradicting road signs and his sense of navigation. And God dammit there were hoards of people there! It turned out that that they were waiting for the fireworks from the NDP rehearsals, which we got to watch the moment it started. And the moment it stopped... the rain came.

Bleah.

So we ran for cover like headless cockroaches, and I ended up with bad stitches to my side. Consequence for not exercising regularly. And while we were trapped at under the Barrage, we had another round of Hearts (in which Darling got sabotaged pretty badly). And the smokers. if anyone points out to me that the Marina Barrage has a smoking point at any one point of it, I'll let the matter rest. But those guys were smoking in a cluster, in a place where no one could go anywhere except under the rain! I ranted out loud the moment we prepared to leave, and Jack was quite displeased with that.

"They overheard you! What if they were gangsters and decided to chase after you with parangs?"

Then let them kill me.

Seriously. Where's the Courtesy Movement gone to? Do smokers have the right to smoke at any damn corner they can find at any venue? Or smoke at their flat window and let the wind carry the smoke to the neighbouring units? Or smoke and walk down Orchard Road at the same time and slowly massacre the Singaporean population? Or at the bus stop, where there's plenty of young school students? Seriously, since the government is so fervent about drawing smoking areas at public places, then draw more boxes at bus stops, outside buildings, etc. AND make it illegal for them to walk and smoke at the same time. If you want to smoke, stop walking. Stop making everyone smoke with you. If you wanna die early, don't pull me along. I don't want to suffer the consequences of your ignorance.

PLUS. Jack's words were etched in my mind. "They overheard you! What if they were gangsters and decided to chase after you with parangs?" Seriously, if you're not going to relieve your addiction discreetly, then don't blame people for their furtive glances and disapproving looks. If I were a mother with my children and you were smoking around them, I would have confronted you, regardless of whether you're going to decapitate me or not. Smoke all you want, get some disease, die, do whatever you wish. Just don't drag me to hell with you.

Break away

Complaining endlessly to innocent bystanders of my tragedy isn't going to end this; my laments will simply get lost in all the clutter. And you know what? By hook or by crook, I'm breaking away from your apron strings.

I spent the past 20 years of my life trying to adapt to the role of the big sister in the family, and helming everything whenever Dad's busy with work. Do you have any idea how tiring it was? Do you have any ounce of recognition for that? No. When I screw up, you simply put me down. And when it's time for me to seek my own ideals, you ALWAYS have to be there to hinder me. I DON'T LIKE IT, that's what you always say. Does that mean that I have to do everything YOU like? This is not a Communist regime at home, you know.

You have no idea how afraid I was whenever I approached you for things; I always had my heart in my mouth, always willing to swallow my pride and cower with my tail between my legs when you turned me down with that harsh and cold demeanour of yours. You have NO IDEA. No idea when you retched those lectures out on me when I returned home late from studying in school. No idea, when my sisters were at fault and I got the lashing. No idea, still, when I was trying to hard to run the household and everyone else at home was apathetic. No idea, when your condemning expression burn through me everytime nothing I did went according to your wishes.

I told Jack, more than once, that I was going to do something out of this world before I turn 21 in 2 months' time. I was referring to this attempt I'm going to make to disengage myself from your tyranny. I did think about moving on-campus, or to somewhere else which would take the burden of pleasing you off my shoulders. Until I realised that doing so will break my dad's heart. That I don't want to hurt him the way you did; the words you said that always wronged him; the actions that told him that you didn't understand his misery one bit. And you're going to throw this on me as well, from the way you implied no to me. It was a simple analogy; You didn't trust me, you didn't trust Jack, you didn't trust Dad, and most of all, you don't trust yourself. And I'm going to end the misery on my part.

Yes. I mean it. So even if this is going to mean my life, I'm going to bet on it.

Transformers, Ice Age 3

Oh God what the hell is wrong with Blogger? Now I'll have to host my pictures back onto PhotoBucket, before providing the url to here.











Movie marathons rock. The aftermath sucks, especially when it involves being uber drowsy throughout tuition, lunch and blogging.






Movie Marathon @ Bishan Junction 8

Ice Age 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs is truly family entertainment. While sitting in a cinema full of parents and noisy kids who know absolutely zilch cinema etiquette did flame my ass a little, the entire experience would have been imperfect without such peripheral distractions. Oh, if anyone has Ice Age 3 postcards, I'll love to have them as a birthday present. Haha. Just kidding. I don't wanna open all my presents and realise that ALL of them are Ice Age 3 postcards.

I hereby deem Transformers as THE must-watch action movie of the year. It totally won me over with the computer graphics, and the endless visual and audio bombardment throughout the movie simply blew me away. Of course, the need-for-speed girl needs her good dose of fast and furious cars, and this film introduced us to the Chevrolet Camaro, of better known as BumbleBee in the movie. It's NOT a production car (big 'Awww...' from the autophiles), sad to say. The Camaro was a concept car by Chevrolet in 2006, which materialised into a lean mean petrolhead when Chevrolet sad," You know, we could have that beauty in that movie." So they got together, ripped apart 2 Pontiac GTOs via reverse engineering, and put together 2 road-running Camaros specially for the movie. How cool is that? I'm stunned. If you wanna read more about it, you can click here. I don't wanna bore 3/4 of my readers with auto factsheets. Anyway, if you haven't caught it, stop waiting! Stop saving for the Harry Potter movie. Stop buying Twilight books. Stop waiting for the New Moon movie, which comes out in late November. Watch this first! Oh, and besides those lovely cars, the guys have another worthy reason to watch this; Megan Fox. Enough reason? Even as a female counterpart, Fox's physical charisma puts most of us women to shame. Plus she's not size 0. So if you've got $6 and you've got your old matric card to bluff your way into the cinemas, watch this. If you're downloading it your computer will crash, because I said so.

Now I know

I've seen countless cases of people getting attached only after they've only entered Uni (well that's kind of a load of BS, because there could jolly well be many more people getting attached in secondary school, JC, post-Uni), and I think I just sought out the exact reason why that is so.

Because we girls like guys that are not so our age.

Of course, I don't want to be burnt at the stake for saying that this is so for everyone, just wanna stress that majority of couples are as such. And what about those couples whom I know who are of the same age? Majority of them broke up. I could have done a survey and proved my point, but then I would be scrapping some old wounds and probably offend a few people, so I shall chuck the CNM mindset aside for awhile. And today's BBQ with secondary school friends further affirmed my claim; I couldn't hold a decent conversation with ANY of the guys! Even though we were hanging out and kicking each other's asses in Secondary school, I felt like I just experienced accelerated EQ growth during the time the guys were in NS. Wrong frequency, no common topic of interest, bad conversations. And this scene had been repeated for all the previous times I had gatherings with ex-classmates. Is this a curse?

People blame NS. They say it stuns the emotional growth of guys. They say it built brotherhood, but none of the stuff they need to face their female counterparts with after NS. And the cycle repeats itself. The chasm between the guy friends I have in Uni and the ex-classmates is so vast, it takes 2 years to echo back. Even Jack, who's always a little of a small kid, make the other guys my age look like thumb-sucking toddies. Now I know why I was able to cut myself off so cleanly from the secondary school clique crowd; most of them were guys.

Muse

You know how attached couples like to ramble on about how life will be with each other? Well, you're unfortunate enough because Jack and I happen to be one of them, and you're reading this. We were discussing how pleasant it would be like to reside nearby each other during the BBQ on Sunday, and we got Gordon and Gerlynn caught on to the conversation as well. One major reason would definitely because I'm currently taking an hour or so to get to and fro Gordon's place (where we would usually congregate for a session of boardgames), and it's a tiresome affair. Plus the fact that we're probably going to make this habit, and watch the two of them tear each other's dentures out during boardgames 50 years on. Wouldn't that be sweet?

Of course I wouldn't mind living close to my other better friends, but not to the extent of being neighbours (I shall keep this entry PG) because I'll probably die of fatigue trying to keep my private life, well, private (no pun intended, if you even catch it at all). It's time our generation took the baton from our grandparents and revive the kampung spirit. Wouldn't it be nice to know that you can drop off your kids at your friends' place if you had to attend to something urgent? Plus all the potlucks, BBQ sessions, gatherings we can have.

At the end of the day it's all about even bothering at all to keep in contact with each other, no matter where you reside, because even neighbours can become enemies if boundaries are crossed and tempers flare. Then, living nearby would be equivalent to fighting a war at frontline everyday.