What now

I couldn't stand a single day without getting any work done this Lunar New Year period; I couldn't quit checking my gmail and NUSmail thrice a day, I couldn't stop reading research papers and looking for theoretical frameworks to fit our research topic and I couldn't stop myself from looking for a suitable candidate for my profile story. The latter's probably justified because it's due this coming Thursday and I haven't nailed anything solid down yet.

I'm always stressed out during the weeks leading up the New Year, largely worrying about finishing whatever work I could before I give myself a break during the festive season. Then I'll go back to being a workaholic just hours into the Rabbit Year. GAH. I didn't even bother as much with my New Year shopping.

Plus I'm the typical young Singaporean adult who abhors visiting relatives to the max. Before JC, people would tell me the same old stuff; that I should slim down and be like my second sis who was as skinny as a beanpole; that I should buck up with my studies because my mum would tell them how I scored 36 for my Sec 4 mid-year L1R5. Then after I entered Uni, the questions took a drastic turn, but still as monotonous and repetitive as ever; whether I have a boyfriend, that I'm much skinnier than I had been in the past, how did I lose so much weight, what am I doing now, am I working now, what am I studying now...

Shuddup.

I mean, seriously, it's already past my line of tolerance when people shove kueh lapis and bahkwa in my face - now you're firing off, paparrazzi style, and asking me questions you've asked last year. And I can easily predict the questions that will come next year - Are you still studying? Are you planning to go for further studies? Where are you working at now? Are you attached? When are you getting married? Why didn't you bring your boyfriend today? What is your boyfriend working as? Does he earn more than you? Have you went to queue for a flat already? When are you planning to have kids?

Shuddup already.

I'm just glad it's over.

Lalalalalala Life

Nobody said it was easy, right? I could spend the next 10 paragraphs lamenting my ill fate in school and how I had spent 3 weeks doing everything except blogging, but that would totally kill my CNY mood by reminding me of those dreaded people who have been shoved in my face.


Just to sidetrack a little, I've recently become a firm believer of clean skin. after suffering under the merciless hands of my beautician. My, what strong hands she has, especially when it comes to extracting blackheads and blemishs. Plus she's become the additional voice in my head, reminding me about the same things every single session. I've been ill-treating my skin since the day I was introduced to face powder, and this is where this little gem comes into play.





Palgantong theatrical makeup powder has officially ousted the Faceshop's pore-clogging mineral powder from my make-up regime. Seriously, is there anything from Faceshop that does what it actually boasts about? After going through their cleansers, toners, make-up bases, loose powder, BB cream, concealer sticks, I've decided that enough is enough. Not to mention the filter tops of their loose powder falls off every single time I try to dispense powder. And the loose powder simply disappears after an hour in the sun. And the BB cream (which the salesgirl recommended because it wouldn't clog pores) actually clogs pores. Gosh, are you sure you guys originated from Korea?

And Julie finally deflowered her virgin hair.

The chestnut colour (or so they say) only revealed itself after the third wash, which meant that I spend 2 days trying to convince everyone at home that I didn't waste $17.95 to kill my heair. GAH. Why didn't I write this into my New Year's resolution list?

Julie also spent some time falling sick.

Actually it was just half a day of fever, a persistent cough and an inflamed throat. I also tried to convince the doctor at the UHC to prescribe me some hormone pills by explaining my predicament to her ("Doc, I've been missing my period for weeks now, and I was wondering if you could just gimme some hormone pills to make it come back..."). She shot me a look which meant an unwavering big fat "NO", and started to lecturing me on how such things were normal and why I should quit being a kan chiong spider over such trivial matters. *Mumble mumble*

And, GAH, don't watch this if you can't stand bad plots.

Let's serve Jay Chou some justice (I can't believe I'm doing this); he did whatever he could, so I'm not boo-ing him this time. He even managed short, clear sentences in a language he's probably never dreamt of mastering before. But there were simply too many loose ends in the plot that the director had been unable to tie up within 115 minutes. Plus The Green Hornet would be the bane of vintage car collectors; the crew had searched the entire continent of USA to suss out close to 30 of the 65' Chrysler Imperial Crowns still surviving for the filming, and only 3 had survived the ordeal. Where's the LOVE?! Couldn't you guys have used something else? Like the 87' Buick Regal? Or the 89' Lincoln Town Car? *mad*

Oh gosh I'm so angry, I can't stop.

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.

Damned post titles.

Indeed, Julie has been living life as it should be lived. Just like Yogi Bear and Bo Bo. And Justin Timberlake's impersonation of Bo Bo was sooo real, I couldn't believe it was him. :P



I've been skiving as I deemed deserved, because Honours Year is never going to be the same as the past 3 years. Work will get harder, time will become more valuable, and ties might get stretched even tighter. So I screwed vacation jobs and tuition assignments to spend more time with those who matter the most to me.




Holiday-ed in Desaru with family, and it's been the most fulfilling vacation for the mind and soul since... I don't know when. The last time the entire family checked out of the country was in 2007, before Dad hooked himself up with an overseas stint. It sounds crazy, but I miss his nagging, no matter how many times I hear the same lines. Plus hanging out at beach as a family only made the entire trip more meaningful and beautiful. Hopefully, another family vacation will come our way next December.


Don't expect Mr. J and Ms. J to swear off movie dates during the hols, even when we're broke to the core. The trailer of Tron Legacy coaxed us movie whores into coughing up 11 buck a pop to catch this in 3D.



At this point, it's just come to my realisation that, for $8 a pop for a 2-hour movie, movies are actually cheap. Think back on the days when you had to pay $5 for a 80-minute movie with cheap CG and bad acting, and you'll be laughing for paying close t0 6 bucks for Avatar if you leveraged on a credit card discount. So if the folks at home are complaining about you spending too much money watching movies, it's actually them.

Frankly speaking, Jake Gyllenhaal isn't the kind of guy you would expect to find writhing butt-naked in the sheets with Anne Hathaway. In fact, both of them could have convincingly passed off as a random friendly librarian... only if they weren't in Hollywood reeling in bucketfuls of remuneration from Love & Other Drugs. This film would have been great if it hadn't been 2 solid hours of emotion-tracing as the protagonists struggled with their ambiguous relationship. Plus I detested the character Hathaway had played so well - the Parkinson-stricken artist who's always wallowing in self-pity. We're all guilty of that, aren't we? But the over-arching message was convincing enough; that love could prove to be the best cure even when the physical self is incurable. But you have to begin by loving yourself.

I have loved beach vacations since the day my skin hit the warm waters off Tioman, so this time it wasn't very much different. My back and calves are still aching from the backpack I lugged there, but it had been a great getaway. People always wonder why we're always secretive about our vacations and seldom made it known even to our closest friends. I don't know. I guess we all have to have our little pockets of vacuum in life, devoid of all contact with the outside world. It's a good opportunity for us to relax, talk about weird stuff such as "what's the true meaning of living for oneself" and reboot our systems. Yes, we're decadent, irrational even, when it comes to spending on vacations, but who's to judge us?

If you do, screw you.