Officially... graduated

I haven't told this to more than a handful but, a few nights ago, I awoke from a nightmare in which I found out that I had scored a mere 3.5 for my overall CAP. This foreboding feeling that my dream was a projection of a future continued for the past few days, up to the moment I opened the SMS containing my final results.

NM4202 Transnational Producers - B

NM4206 Communication & New Media Regulation - B+

NM4220 HEalth Communications - A

NM4218 Knowledge Management - A-

At least, for once, my premonition was totally off. NUS decided to end off the results report with my class or Honours. Schweet, though it would have been better if it had matched last Christmas'. But I'm as contented as pie.

The weekend has been eventful, with a movie marathon courtesy of the Boyfriend. :)

If you haven't watched Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol, I hope it's because they've run out of tickets. The trailer which debuted in October totally caught us; who wouldn't want to watch good-looker Cruise scale the 125th floor of the Burj Khalifa Hotel, the tallest building in the world? Shall not ruin the movie with spoilers, but if you're interested in how future installments might veer towards, you can check out the movie's IMDB page here. If there's any reason to watch MI:4, it's to watch 49-year-old Cruise in his awesome sidekick - the BMW i8.

Hello, sexy.

Tom Cruise is 49 years old. 49.

(credits: celebritiesheight.com)

Nope, not convinced.

Anyway, our back-to-back movie marathon saw us do a mad rush from cinema to cinema for Alvin and the Chipmunks 3. Compared to M:I, this was far less entertaining, and even more so when you factor in those little tykes in the cinema squealing and yelling randomly during the show. Adults, please keep away from Alvin and the Chipmunks, regardless of what your girlfriend insists on.

L'Amour, Toujours, L'Amour

I don't even know where to start. It's like getting bath water into your ears; you have too much to get out, you're hopping around crazed, but the mind-boggling sensation remains. 

Mid-November rang alarms of all sorts; while I was working on the brink of exhaustion putting together a paper with another hardworking groupmate of mine, the others granted themselves leave from involvement on the account that they had papers to sit for and we didn't, popping over random emails of "how's it going?" and "what is there left for me to do?" occasionally. I hope Santa feeds you to his sleigh dogs - you're so much more useful that way. But I can't be greedy, for I was blessed with three other teams of tangible awesomeness. I can't thank them enough. In the midst of it all, my body was learning to fall apart more easier than before - time to go read The Brain that Changes Itself. Apparently the flu caught on more easily, I was feeling light-headed just by taking a crowded bus and I was sadistically suppressing bouts of fever with Panadol. Needless to say, a lot of other stuff start spinning out of control. On hindsight, I wonder what kept me sane the entire time. I never knew I could end my last days in NUS complaining like an old hag.

And not to mention I was single-handedly planning the family trip (a.k.a my second graduation trip) to Taipei. *FRUSTRATION MUCH*

But we made it there anyway.

Fisherman's Wharf @ Danshui, Taipei

Ever since I first set foot on Fisherman's Wharf, I have made myself a promise to return to the "lovers' bridge of Taiwan" to fully capture its glory. To many, it's simply a bridge dotted by bright lights and tourists. To me, it's a symbol of wanderlust and choice, of love strong enough to brave time and tide. Though it would have been complete if you had been there too.

The Taipei trip was a learning experience in every way. From booking the flights and accommodation to filling up the itinerary, I finally had a hand at conjuring a fulfilling trip out of thin air. And I finally put my language skills to use in Taipei and the Hong Kong airport, as well as attempting to baffle the Taiwanese Starbucks barista by ordering four drinks with an American accent. I pity my guinea pig.

Next on the wanderlust list: Hong Kong!

Of course, the movie junkies never go on strike, just out of free time. 

I wonder why people like to deconstruct stories and delve into a single character; The Hobbit (coming out in 2012) from LOTR, Wolverine from X-Men, and this time round it's Puss in Boots. Not that it doesn't garner a theater-full of swooning (I wonder if the men "aww"-ed too), but it seems to me that attempting to center a film around a kitty cat begets some huge boots (excuse the pun) to fill. Not to mention my critical analysis skills kicked in the moment Puss in Boots started serenading the other kitties - why in the world would you ever, ever sexualize a fairytale character?

And thank God this was still on when I came back from Taipei. What better way to support local productions than to catch it in the cinema for 7 bucks?

Michelle Chong made the right decision to step out of her acting shoes and into those of a director's. Already Famous might have been dismissed as another rags-to-riches story of a girl in a foreign land, but Michelle brought it closer to home by including cameos by local celebrities, localized jokes and hidden puns. Looking forward to her next film.

Okay I'm wrung dry of words.

Greatest release

Have I told you that I've filed for graduation? :) Been waiting for this day to come, where I classified all my modules and hit the confirmation button.

Yesterday was probably the first time in two weeks that I had Jack all to myself. Movie junkies don't waste time - we watch movies.

Horrible Bosses wouldn't get a standing ovation, but it was a decent movie to kill time with if you're looking for alternative humor. However, I felt that only Kevin Spacey pulled off his role as the psychotic slave-driving boss with sufficient gusto; he's the kind of boss I felt I could really do without if I could resort to any means to reduce him to dust. The sex-crazed brunette dentist played by Jennifer Aniston, despite being creepy enough with her crotch-grabbing, butt-slapping antics, deviated more towards a cougar in heat than a boss worth planning a murder for. As for Colin Farrell, his script was far more captivating than the crackhead boss he plays. The twist at the end was cute, but paled in comparison to many other great comedy flicks we've seen. 2.9/5

Muse of the mortar boards

Today marks the end of Jack's treacherous four-year journey through varsity, complete with an overpriced teddy plush and congratulatory bouquet. Throughout the entire process from helping him with the cumbersome gown to watching him receive the scroll from the Engineering dean, I couldn't help but mull over my current situation as a "late bloomer" - graduating one semester later than all the others in the same intake - in my bid to qualify for the honours track.

There might have been people who label me as insane for putting a toil on myself by undergoing additional semesters of crazy deadlines and readings, while others could have branded my bold decision as naive and short-sighted. I remembered deliberating all the countless permutations of possibilities on both sides of the line and I'm glad to say my decision was justified and rational. The million-dollar question here is: Why honours? Because I knew that this is a now-or-never situation: without an adequate amount of passion, no one would voluntarily sit through another bachelor's degree programme, and I know I'm included there. I knew fairly well that if I let slip this chance of final redemption, I might never be able to return back on this path again. Another arts degree? No thanks. Besides, like what I had mentioned way back then, I wanted to tread on this path and open up more possibilities and knowledge a B.A. course could never present to me. And I was proven right, after one semester of level-4000 modules and competitive course mates. With one more semester left, I shall strive to make the best out of it, just like what I had initially set out to achieve.

So while I didn't get the chance to don the graduation gown with Jack and step out into the workforce at the same pace, I was still proud as punch over Jack's achievement; he had started off his university on the wrong foot academically, but managed to break free from the bad start and rise to the occasion. The mugging sessions, the lunch dates, the Yakun coffee sessions, the bickering at the bus stop... I'll miss it all. Semester 9 will never be the same without Jack to watch my back. That'll probably be the real test for the both of us.

Happy Commencement. :)

Are you obsessed with the right things?

It's going to feel like the first day of Primary One all over again - the trepidation in my steps, the wary glances from passer-bys, the strangled mingling as everyone tried to make small but awkward talk, staring down the person sitting next to you who'll be sticking by you for project work... I know I can be pretty cynical at times, but I simply can't blend into the crowd and be friends with everyone. And knowing the fact that I fought so hard with myself just to get my butts into the Honours Programme just makes me wanna kick myself even more sometimes.

On another note, I've been dying to talk about these campaign ads by the Singapore Breast Cancer Foundation. They've attracted both detractors (for the supposed nudity) and supporters (like me) since their appearance on clinic posters and postcards everywhere in Singapore.

You must be thinking I'm frickin' out of my mind for picking a random topic like breast cancer to drone about. But this became a real cause for concern following a scare in the family last week. While I'm thoroughly thankful that it was all a false alarm, we all need to know how real and close to home this could be. And I really appreciated the campaign ads' message - Are you obsessed with the right things? Women and men alike, we're all vulnerable to physical illnesses, not excluding breast cancer; who's to say who'll be spared the plank? So instead of deeming these posters profane, shouldn't they be the warning bells instead? Instead of kicking up a huge fuss over a bad hair day or a zit, why not remind yourself about the other invaluable things in life?

Yay to masochism

I think I might be masochistic, especially after one of the lecturers posted this on 4102's IVLE page:

"Level-4000 which undergraduates earn 5 Modular Credits (MCs) require undergraduates to do 25% more work, compared to level-3000 modules (4 MCs). Please get prepared for the additional work load."

YAY!

...though I'm much more interested in writing for the Campus Observer, as part of a mandatory requirement for my Journalism module. Dream come true!

While I've managed to accommodate my modules into just 2 days, it's the tuition assignments that are giving me the headaches because they occupy pretty much of the other free days. Which is totally disheartening. Oh well. Nobody said it was easy.

Semester 7

I stepped into my 7th semester with the determination of a kamikaze pilot; it's either a do or die thing. Those close to me should be aware of the fact that I'm fighting for an honours, and this semester has been an extension in a bid to up my CAP. Some people told me, "Aiyah, Arts degree got honours or not also the same." It may be the case for these people, but not for me.

And I fought hard this semester.

Interestingly, after poring over it, I realised that I've learnt so much more this semester, I dare bet on it, than any of the past six. In fact, I was pretty self-condescending at the start of the semester, just before the recess week, openly jeering at myself. It's four level 3000 modules. What makes you think you're going to survive all of them? Are you letting the proverbial smoke get into your eyes?

And I kept telling myself you're gonna flop you're gonna flop you're gonna flop...

Until I met these good friends of mine.

They showed me that impossible was nothing, because when I first got to know that I had to handle these applications for NM3217, I was far from delirious. In fact, my inner technophobic almost jumped up and threw in the towel. But I knew a fight was eminent, because it was all I was there for. To put up a bloody great fight. And I conquered. And I was pretty proud of what eventually came out of it; 1 newsletter, 1 flier, 1 brochure and 1 website, or pretty much everything I told myself I wouldn't be skilled enough to accomplish.

I did my brochure within 4 days, and my website within 3. ;)

Definitely, there's got to be those potholes along the way.

Like those rowdy h o n s.ly students who declared themselves king of the castle.

Like uncooperative groupmates who have absolutely no idea that they're writing junk, even in Year 3, and never bothered to help in any other way. Does being the busiest person in your own world exempt you from GROUPwork? Are you even literate?

Like pushy groupmates.

And unfriendly ones.

And those who disappear... and appear as and when they deemed fit.

But I've got my own group of superheroes to thank for helping me through this semester. To my awesome 3226 group, who slogged through hours and hours in the lab just to get everything done. To the next awesome tutor Aaron for all his help in lab and answering all my uber last-minute emails.

Tempers flared ALOT this semester, I swear, and even more so when you put two positively sleep-deprieved, angsty and time-starved people together. I'm glad we pulled through with minimal injuries, and I thank whoever's up there every single day for bringing you into my life, no matter how pissed we were with each other sometimes. If couples don't quarrel, it simply means that they lack communication and concern for each other. What's most important at the end of the day is that blessed feeling of being able to love and be loved by that same person.

Thank you for tolerating my short tempers and PMS-sy moodswings.

Thank you for making that long trip to my home just to study with me.

Thank you for making a fool of yourself just to make me smile.

Thank you for loaning me to my project mates for hours for marthon project meetings.

Thank you for ... everything.

We may have not a penny to our names,

we may not have earned a reputation for ourselves,

we may not drive the biggest cars in the world or live in the most beautiful homes,

we may not be lucky enough to travel far and wide,

we may not have everything other couples have.

But we've got each other, and that's more than enough for a lifetime.

Sayonara

Yes, our loyal feeder is going for good.

What a pity. Thank you for your lovely mushroom pasta, Aglio Olio and Primavera.

But Starbucks sounds way too good. :P

Julie is going to be an obedient girl/daughter/girlfriend and start taking great care of herself.

... which, unfortunately, includes everything except proper sleep. It's not some personal conviction thing, just damn schoolwork bogging me down. Alot of (older) people simply cannot understand why we youngsters are sleeping less and less. Is it too difficult to comprehend the fact that if we actually do sleep 8 satisfying hours a day, our grades will prolly hit rock-bottom faster than you can say 'NUS'? My mum nags every single night about us not sleeping early; she prolly haven't seen the scholars yet.

Good luck and good day to all undergrads. The night is still young.

Epic fail

This is absolutely hilarious.

And when I saw the following comment from someone in that loop which served to justify the above issue, I had the urge to just graduate this semester just to dissociate myself from THE tag.

If I'm not an honours student, does it mean my room bookings will always be subjected to the focus group schedules of the honours students?

Plus they were not chased out by their JUNIORS. They were reprimanded for using the room without booking it, and the admin lady told them that they had to vacate the room because someone else booked it.

Besides, who are you to grumble when you were obviously in the wrong? Plus the nice ladies actually offered you guys the STAFF LOUNGE. Wow. Now, convince me that final year students can use the staff lounge at their own free will. No?

I'm seriously impressed. You dared to present that point of view as a FACT. What an irony for a New Media student.

Hons.ly.

Kiss Me

Gosh I love this song, especially after hearing Olivia Ong's performance some time ago.

Kiss Me

Kiss me out of the bearded barley
Nightly, beside the green, green grass
Swing, swing, swing the spinning step
You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So kiss me

Kiss me down by the broken tree house
Swing me upon its hanging tire
Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat
We'll take the trail marked on your father's map

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So kiss me

Yesterday's presentation marked the end of coursework for NM3210, and I'm greatly relieved by that fact because I've got another 3 crazy modules jostling for my attention. If there's a instrumental phase, it's got to be these last 4 weeks. It doesn't help that the number of hours I sleep every day can be counted on one hand, and my emotional anchor is rarely by my side. Gosh I really need something to hold on to.

Yesterday's wedding is still freshly etched in my mind; every single frame of happiness overflowed with an abundance of joy and love, and I simply hate to think about the fact that this form of happiness will not be mine to enjoy until a few more years of toiling later. Oh well, the pains of living in a highly competitive environment.

I miss you, my 32-month-old love.

I'm a McFlurry

I burnt my recess week. Or ironically, school burnt my recess week. But then again, do we even differentiate? Every day is a work day, rain or shine, weekday or weekend, fit or sick.



And as a result, I missed out on a whole lot of wonderful events, which I'm going to cuss myself for.



Like being with Dad for the 6 days he could spend with us before returning back to Shanghai. I spent, what, less than half the days with him, including the hours he was in at home for. And it broke my heart to see him leave after a huge tiff - let's not go there - with my mum. I just wish I could have turned back time, but I realised that it wouldn't have made too much of a difference, since I would probably be still caught up in school work. And trust me, I hate myself for this.

Like missing out on Jane Zhang's (張靚穎) events when she was here for her album promotion. If you're scratching your head, I'd suggest a Youtube search of her performances, and be prepared to get blown away by her whistle register.

Like catching the F1. I am VERY VERY VERY sore about this. I miss the exhilarating feeling of having my hairs on the back of my neck stand on ends whenever those monsters fly by. I'll be saving up for the tickets next year, I promise.

And the root of all these was something called RECESS WEEK; All my lecturers probably decided that they would be the only ones who would be assigning homework to us, since it's recess week and no one has got any tutorials to attend.


Anyway, I had quitted whining and moved on with life. I decided to use up my GV birthday voucher by catching Legend of the Fist: the return of Chen Zhen with Mr. Jack.

Yes, there was alot of blood and people dying and crunching and snapping and stabbing sound effects, and the plot was ... old. Like typical kungfu films starring Donnie Yen, the protagonist was a people's hero during the World War, and he always wound up fighting the antagonist/s and winning during a last-gasp attempt. Bleah dry bleah. But I shall give the man some credit, since I must say I'm pretty impressed by those nifty moves he displays in his films, considering the fact that he's already 47 years old. Like, WOW.

And if you're still not convinced, I'm sure this will win your butt over:

Hell, yeah.

(P.S: Happy 31st month. :) )

End of the first week of school, and I'm already playing a mental tug-of-war with myself; half of me wants to continue its droning state of apathy while the other half is dying to jump on all the readings and devour them from introduction to conclusion.


Anyone heard the fantabulously disastrous YOG song with the bad catchphrases? This may serve as a painful reminder to all aspiring singer-songwriters - if you have absolutely NO inspiration to write a song, DON'T EVEN TRY. Not even when it's commissioned and it puts your name into the record books, because it'll just be a can of worms people will pop on you over and over again, right until your very last breath.

And I was wondering if it was a blessing in disguise that we couldn't get YOG opening ceremony tickets - we could still be stuck in the Marina human traffic at 11pm if we had actually been there. Plus we saved that 60 bucks. Not a bad deal for cash-strapped us. But it would be an experience of a lifetime, isn't it? I'm looking forward to attending some of the events, though. :)

April in May

And we wrapped up 3220 yesterday morning with our final presentation, after 8 weeks of conceptualizing, proposal-writing, instrument-crafting, focus groups, transcribing, data analysis, report-writing... I think our group had the most disagreements because of the writing style, the language, miscommunication, ineffective group mate, and so on so forth. But in the process we had a friendship forged so deep, it's going to hurt when we say goodbye eventually. My fellows in CNM would know the policies here well; our groups were randomly formed, which probably means that the probability of us working together again as the Dream Team is almost nought. But thank you so much, to each and every single one in my Dream Team, our Dream Team, for making this semester a hectic yet one with full of laughter, friendship and worthy sacrifices. :)


Anyway we had a fun fun fun presentation! Dressing up in lab coats, passing our toothbrush on to the next presenter, group photos... Well I probably screwed my portion of the presentation but, hey, we had fun, didn't we? Anyway the toothbrush went on a little tour with me to Jack's lab. :)

看到五月天成員石頭和孩子在遊樂場玩耍，別有一番體會。原來在臺上綻放著星光的藝人，卸掉華麗的服裝，放下樂器，當個平凡人，是种奢侈的享受。我們看過多少海外藝人，就算在閒暇逛街吃飯時間都被狗仔煩個不停，是否想過，我們那麽羡慕他們，難道他們就不曾羡慕過我們這些老百姓嗎？來到新加坡也許是他們夢寐以求的，因爲沒有該死的狗仔，沒有極度瘋狂粉絲，也不會被當作外星人看待。

始終，我和老公也只是多看他幾眼，就走掉了。何必去要簽名呢~？何必去要合照呢~？欣賞他們，聼他們的音樂，買正版的專輯，在演唱會上獻出你的熱情，就是對藝人歌手的最大回報。走下舞臺后，他們也像你我一樣，需要自己私人的空間呼吸。

雖然這周末不會去看五月天的演唱會，但還是要祝他們演唱會成功，當最棒的天團，也當個好爸爸。 :)

Needs breaks.

My eyes are burning from nights and nights of staring at the laptop, rushing assignments and struggling to comprehend word after word on MSN group meetings. I'm burning out soon; it's just a matter of time. I'll just be looking forward to next weekend, where I'll get my big break, before the madness starts again.


And I don't really know what I'm doing for 3220 anymore; it frightens me very much to be cast in a state of vacuum every time a question is being thrown out, making me feel as though I hadn't been part of the project. While I know it's precisely how an A+ is differentiated from a B+, I'm just plain exhausted from staring at quote after quote, transcript after transcript, and finding answers for questions you can't even answer. I love the group dynamics; I just can't tolerate the indecisiveness sometimes.






Clash of the Titans! It's been more than a month since our last movie, and Clash of the Titans made up for the void. If you found the actor playing Perseus familiar, that's because it's Sam Worthington from Avatar. :) He didn't fail to disappoint with this movie, wielding a piquant Perseus with his swordplay and keeping the women at bay. Can you imagine he's 34?! I loved this film because there was little romance and loads of scrambling around with those super fuglilistic monsters. Just a pity it wasn't an exact depiction of actual Greek mythology, or else it would have the potential to be developed into a sequeled hit like Harry Potter.
Yummy. Haha.

And I woke up this morning with zip imprints on my arms, legs and neck, the after-effects of sleeping with Jack's jacket on. LOL.

Mileage

It's quite evident that I'm up to my neck in work, so much so that, as I told Jack and my 3220 groupmates, sleep is at the bottom of my Maslow's hierarchy. Maslow will turn in his grave if he knew someone just trashed his theory.

Thanks to my awesome JS2213 groupmates, We managed to squeeze out a full research paper on women's football in Japan! Goddammit nothing can put to words all the effort we put in, especially those 3am MSN convos where everyone's struggling to make sense of themselves, Noel maxing out his library book borrowing limit just to make sure we've got the good stuff to ourselves (ngiak ngiak ngiak...), long Perk Point discussions... But then again, I wouldn't dream of taking another JS module anymore. It's simply too draining, and basically their style of academic writing is realms above what I can achieve. So bye bye to Japanese Studies, I hope we'll never see each other again, as long it manifests in the form of dense readings, grand narratives and some particular tutor. *clears throat*


And it took me 8 hours to juice my brains for a 800-word feature story for 3211. Seriously, I see no news angle in it, but it's still something, so cut me some slack. I totally disappointed myself by writing like a moron for Assignment B, and I didn't make use of the chance to do better for Assignment C. But whatever it is, it just reaffirmed the fact that no matter how well I write news articles, the idea of being a news journalist will probably be stuck outside the window.


And boy, did I spend the entire Saturday afternoon trapped at YIH NUSSU lounge with my 3220 groupmates, trying to tear apart our focus group transcripts in search of salient themes for our content analysis. I bet we'd clocked more hours on this project than anyone else! Pity it's only 30% of our overall grade, which sucks considering the fact that it's a non-examinable module and we all work our arses off enslaving ourselves to put this research paper together. Can't CNM be more flexible? I mean, if the intention is to ward off freeloaders, then I don't think it's the best possible way. Why not work on an incentive-punishment approach? We're not passive creatures, so I believe slackers will definitely be wormed out before the project progresses. Can someone start a petition?



And I miss you. Every single moment, with every single breath.
Please fast forward time, can we?

Nothing ever changes

My groupmates will prolly stone me to death if they knew I was blogging amidst this mad-rush period. For the record, I have got one individual assignment due this Sunday, another due next Wednesday, group papers due this coming Thursday, next Thursday, and a website due in 2 weeks. I'm busier than Steve Jobs, I'd reckon. I bet that tech maestro doesn't sleep 3 to 4 hours a day, runs on caffeine, or reads research papers every day.

The ultimate victim? Time with Jack. I used to have him for 4 to 5 hours every school day last semester, a stark contrast from the maximum hour for lunch together this semester. Most people will lament that that's better than nothing, but I still ain't used to it. Sometimes I feel myself getting torn over spending time with him, and doing my assignments, and I hate myself for days for making either choice. Some things have, undeniably, changed because of the time we could afford with each other, but this episode is going to be one of those testing times in our relationship. We know none of us will let go; we'll just have to rough it out and attempt to stay sane. Every word, every hug and every kiss just meant more.


Though the kiss goodbyes are still unbearably painful.


I miss you.

Assured

You know your efforts were worth it when you get really honest feedback from your group mates, and realised that you're being recognised for all the slogging. Mr. Chua (I feel bad about calling him that because he's supposed to have a Prof. designation but requested for us to call him Mr.) had collated the anonymous group feedback and generated an individual report for us. The results were priceless. :) To receive the thumbs-up from all my group members made my day. At least I know the sacrifices were worth it.

And talking to Christine after NM3220 focus group facilitation was equally rewarding; though we're leagues apart in terms of academic achievements, she felt that everyone in the group was giving an equal amount of effort to the project, unlike some other freeloaders she's met in her other modules. I think it isn't about throwing yourself entirely into the module; it's about negotiating a place in the group by contributing in reasonable amounts of which you feel justify that of the other group members. School may suck, but it made me age intellectually, in a good and mellow way.

Plans took a change for the good today, nevertheless. Just when I thought I'll have to live another day without you, time and distance just wasn't enough of a deterrence. To be able to have dinner with your parents, to window shop with my hand in yours and pacing behind your parents, is likened to a dream come true. No matter how many inner demons we'll have to fight before time will bind us forever, rest assured that I'll be there when you need the strength to resist.

yay

Love is like a box of sickeningly sweet pralines; you know it's addictive and gets you all fidgety about your weight, but it's simply impossible to keep your fingers off. :)


We officially wrapped up MNO project filming today! Commuting to school on a drizzle-permanent day early in the morning sounds like nightmare, but to put a fullstop to something is worth the extra effort to wake up early in the morning. To be able to sink into the group dynamics not as the only girl in the group but as an equal was satisfying; the boys were always ready to listen and share, and there was little conflict in the group to bemoan. There was no leader, but we had worked seamlessly to push out this project within a considerably short period of time. And I'm so proud of this project, because of the effort I put into those late nights, overcoming my fear of public speaking to interview dozens of the public and those lengthy meetings. The last leg now is our presentation!

Love is like a decadent slice of raspberry cheesecake; pretty on the outside AND full of goodess on the inside. :)

I can't even recall the last time we mugged like this together, nose-diving into each other's arms when we hit a brick wall trying to wrestle with assignments and indulging me with your warmth as we huddle close together. I miss you. I truly do.

Choose-day

I came across this while teaching tuition to my Primary 3 student. It appeared in a book of model compositions. Bad language asides (yes, some publishers are just that lax)...




As much as I would like to jab cheating a**holes with pitchforks on behalf of womankind, let's not allow the media to continue harping on this matter anymore. This might be bad defense, but humans err, misjudge, step on pins and crush their noses bloody. Yes, he's gotten the bad press treatment, the nosey reporter-stalkers and the finger-pointing but no, he doesn't need more salt in his wounds. You'd say he saw it coming; I'd say let's give him a break. We won't forget, but let's allow our benevolence to help this fallen fellow pick up the pieces again. As a husband, he might have failed to practise what he preached, but as a creative talent he should still be allowed the chance to shine.

Visit to the News Room!

Amazing experience, all thanks to my CNM lecturer Alfred who manage to snag a session with Mr. Peter Khoo, senior vice president of the English and Malay newspaper division. He offered us a comprehensive presentation on SPH from the economics perspective, including bombastic figures I wouldn't even dream about making in my entire lifetime. Make that 10. And SPH has been defending itself pretty well from the onslaught of new media and paradigm shifts, emerging as the 5th largest news media company in the world. The WORLD! No one thought of that, did we? The tour of the newsroom was an eye opener; everything I've read and heard about SPH came alive! Watching the editors huddling at the many meeting tables situated around the newsroom, walking by tables belonging to journalists I used to know only by the BY line, deciphering which beat each journalist covers simply by the items at their desks (including Batman figurines, limited-edition Jay Chou posters, fish tanks (!), photos with artists), and taking in the sight of it all. Amazing place to be. Question is: Am I supposed to find my place here? That's for time and tide to tell. :)