Sunday, 25th April '04

Reality, TV, And A Touch of Gloss.

Yes yes, loads of time to keep good company with the goggle box of late. =) Especially since I've got a good number of accumulated shows taped from before the exams to clear. But anyways (I actually think "anyways" sounds nice!)... it's all worth me blogging about. Maybe I was on cold turkey, but the recent week of TV was so electrifyingly satisfying I just had to blog. Apologies to those who don't share my passion for the television. May my brain turn to mush - Roald Dahl would surely disapprove.

Reality programmes... whee! There's this basic human desire, I think, to watch other people suffer and squirm and batter each other in pursuit of the titular objective of the show. Watching them fight tooth and nail to be America's Next Top Model, or American Idol, or Sole Survivor... or catch Rachel what's-her-name's Eye for a Guy. Addictive sia. And the last episodes of all of them were so what I can only call "full of kick".

In Model the top four had to pose nude... ok, they had to SIMULATE nude... it wasn't even as bad as going actual nude. But watching poor sweet Shannon get stressed out and awful Bible-totting-Puritan Robin go all holy and lecture the producer on the evils of nude simulation... damn shiok lah. And when Tyra Banks caught Robin jiggling her naked boobs (up and down and round and round - excellent description, Tyra!) at the producer during a costume change? Now THAT'S some good TV. Funny thing, though... I have never seen this many people willing to strip down to their undies and change in front of each other, since, well, TFYE!

In Idol... the departure of JPL could be quite easily overlooked in the light of Barry Manilow's tremendous work with the top seven this week. My GOSH, I'm telling you, he worked WONDERS! I didn't need to see him perform live to know how well he must know his stuff - all I needed to do was see the performances by the kids of the show. Diana Degarmo, John Stevens and Jasmine Trias... they improved so much in terms of performance quality and connection with the audience, it was startling. And I found myself respecting Barry Manilow for taking the effort to actually stay with the finalists and train them for an entire week - most of the other guest judges just visited them for a day and shook hands with them, but Manilow actually re-arranged his own pieces to suit each of them... it was heartening to see how much an old veteren still cared for the somewhat failing music industry, and how great he must be as a teacher. And the result show was something to get me on my feet cheering. It went like this: Ryan Seacrest separated the first six finalists into two groups. Fantasia Barrino, Latoya London and Jennifer Hudson in Group A. Diana Degarmo, John Stevens and Jasmine Trias in Group B. One group held the bottom three in terms of polls, the other held the top three. When this happened you could just see the glee in Barrino's and Hudson's eyes - they thought they had it made. True, the three in Group A had always been consistent powerhouse singers. And the three in Group B had their plain youth, inexperience and resultant lack of confidence against them (all were either 16 or 17). Until Manilow came and worked his wonders, at least. But yes, when Seacrest told George Huff he could join the top group (without saying which group it was), poor Huff didn't have a clue where to go. He just sort of stumbled onto the stage (he thought he was a goner, he'd had a VERY bad show the night before). And here's where the telling bit happened. Barrino and Hudson reached out and PULLED HIM INTO THEIR GROUP. You couldn't possibly turn me off with any greater show of arrogance. It was patently disgusting. So imagine my fist-pumping joy when Seacreast announced that Group B was the top group that night. Well, in conclusion, Hudson went home. No complaints here. She was my Carmen of the last season, diva voice or not.

Survivor... I actually not sure who I want to win now that Rob Cesternino got voted off. He was a terribly smart player, but it being an all star game, the rest were wary and got rid of him fast. I suppose my vote's with Boston Rob now... I tend to go for the players who play the game well. But this week's was a thriller not because of anything any of the power players did. Instead it was Shi-Ann's sheer determination in raising her arm ramrod straight for two and a half hours to win immunity that got to me. She was the physically weakest player this season, and the fact that she beat out all the alpha-males in a pure endurance challenge was inspiring. But she was dumb and shot her mouth off after that, so, well, unless she wins all the challenges all the way to the end (which I highly doubt), she's gone.

Then there's normal TV.

The Practice closed its seventh (or is it eighth?) season this week. And since the nextwork didn't intend to re-air the series, it ended with Bobby leaving the firm, divorcing Lindsay and generally a lot of sappiness. Well, good sappiness, since for me nothing the Practice does is ever wrong =). And the cases that were fought this episode were brilliant, as usual. What gets to me is that when the funding was obtained for a last season, they producers dropped the Bobby, Helen, Lindsay, Rebecca and Lucy characters from the show. Now how do you spell "what the hell"? STUPID PRODUCERS. They essentially removed every character that was cool, leaving one Eugene Young to carry the rest of the show. No, Eleanor and Jimmy do not make me think show-hero. Sigh. Disappointment.

On the other hand, Channel 5 finally did something useful and brought us the Fox hit, the O.C. It's kind of this S.E. Hinton's "The Outsiders" meets Beverly Hills 90210 flick. And get this, it was written to be a television soap opera. Well, its actually a good one. Three episodes in and I think I'm sold. It tells the story of protaganist, Ryan Atwood (think greaser-tough with 98 percentile SAT scores in place of the hair, and a single scruffy grey sweater in place of a leather jacket and switch-blade. He's a Ponyboy Curtis clone, personality-wise.), who comes from a rotten little 8-milish ghetto. When abandoned by his trailer-trash mother, he is taken in by his Public Defender to live with him and his family in their ridiculously over-luxurious mansion in the O.C. (that's Orange County, Beverly Hills without the clothing shops, but with plenty of sun, sand, sea, and sex to go). Oh yes, and along the way he meets and semi-falls-in-love with girl-next-door Marissa Cooper (think Cherry Valance), who happens to be attached to jock Soc-y-type asshole boyfriend (Bob Sheldon reincarnated). Well, there are the essential basics... I guess what impresses me is the simplicity of the story and the humaness of every single character. Even Jock-arsehole has a good side and each of the show's heros have flaws too. The freshfaced innocence of the cast was quite alluring too. They weren't ace actors (who am I to judge), but they were entirely believable and the guy who plays Ryan especially has a certain lost puppy vibe that comes on in vulnerable times, and is replaced by a snarling cynicism at others. I guess I'm a huge fan of casting unknowns because they make simple characters so much more real. Having a cast of beautiful, telegenic people doesn't hurt either. The show also has a rocking soundtrack, designed to bleed money off me. It's been split up into several CDs and will be released slowly as the show progresses. Who would have thought I'd be spending money on a soap opera's merchandise? *groan*.

Finally, there was Glossolalia, the VJC's Writers Circle function that I went for a night ago. Mich, I'll be honest, okie? Just take it with a pinch of salt, I may not know what the hell I'm talking about.

The councillor in me will gripe about the production side of it all. Entering the place did not give me any sense of a well thought out function. But for Ave's being an ex-student, the lack of any decent signage made it so that we might never have found the performance space. As we trotted down to a little congregation of people we thought must be the ticketing booth, the organisers were shocked to find that the ushers hadn't caught us and we had simply wandered right into the performance space without tickets. I can't say that left a great impression.

Worse still came the show. Audience settling time is of course appreciated, but starting the show half an hour late and ending it almost an hour over time is not a sign of professionalism. Overall, the production reeked of a woeful lack of practice. The MCs were appalling - they hadn't a clue how to begin to address the audience, their lines were flubbed at almost every introduction, and the order of the performances seemed a mystery to them. Almost every other introduction had them introduce a reading, and then correct themselves after frantic waving and gesturing from "backstage" (which we could all see into, thankyouverymuch). At other times they introduced the piece and then visbly and audibly forgot the reader's / author's name, or vice versa. The technical aspect was possibly worse. The microphones were muffled - or perhaps the readers had never occasioned to use one before. Certain readers went au naturel, but forgot how vital a little voice projection is, especially when you're staging your show in a garden with trees and grass and open-air to devour your sound. The lighting was pretty after the sun set, but it did not help that the stage lights reached just high enough to illuminate the readers' torsos, but lost their faces in the shadows. There might not have even been a real props crew, since half the props were carried on by other readers, and the other half, by the MCs. Too often were props carried out, set up, and then removed as the "crew" discovered it had set up the wrong props for the wrong item. Finally, one of the rapping trio's admission that they could not even hear their own backup music just took the cake. Everything that went wrong production could be attributed to plain lack of practice.

Other aspects spoke of clear inattention to details or poor discipline. The fact that two relatively illustrious and well-respected poets, Alfian Sa'at and Chris Mooney were in the audience was overlooked. It might have been nice to acknowlege their presence from the start, or at the very least, provide them with labelled chairs. Sa'at, in particular, ended up sitting on a groundsheet on the floor. And when guest readers or any other readers, for that matter, are performing, a general mark of respect is NOT to stand behind them and rehearse your own reading. This was painfully apparent during Alfian Sa'at's reading, where students behind him mouthed their own lines and marked their own actions in full view of the audience. Performers' costumes were a disappointment as well, some being dressed up to the nines in full formal office wear, some in ordinary street causal, and some in forehead-smack-inducing school uniform. If any of that had been catered to suit the piece being read, it was certainly not evident enough. During the readings, the organisers could have taken greater care to make sure their own members did not shuffle up and down the performance slope, or creak distractingly on the swing right behind the audience. During the interval reception, I was pleasantly surprised by tasteful goodies, but was quickly forced back by the spray paint fumes coming from the graffiti corner right next to the refreshment table.

All the above was a pity because the Writer's Circle did have rather good pieces of writing to showcase. Certain gems like White Hairs, the One-Minute-Poem, the piece that the male MC recited about boys, and Mich's MOE rant captured my attention easily. Unfortunately, possibly well written pieces in the first half were lost to the terrible AV (what is poetry when you can't hear the words?) or obscured by sheer bad taste on the part of many of the readers. Poetic licence or not, it was evident that many of the readers hadn't the vaguest concept of showmanship and the few readers who did, hadn't shared what they knew with the others. Pretentious chair flinging and dropping to the knees weren't the slightest bit convincing. At other times the words were lost under falsified accents, over-dramatised inflection and sloppy enunciation. Often, the readers could not be seen for stepping out of the light space, or worse, behind the ample shrubbery that framed the stage.

All that having been said, it was not a terrible show... perhaps more like me being anal. There was something to be said for the substance of the poetry being read, or at least what I could hear of it. As I said, when not marred by bad performance or poor projection, the pieces were mostly entertaining and thoughtful. I also appreciated the effort made to include a variety in the readings, and the fact that the audience was not buried under the angst and pathos characteristic of teenage artists. In summation, I suppose credit must be given to the organisers. Though small in number and perhaps not all that well funded as some sports teams, they did manage to stage their first ever ticketed function and attract a decent crowd. Even if they failed to deliver their substance, the substance was, ultimately, there. There's nothing a little experience and a second try can't cure.


en ying snapped a shot of life @ 12:40 pm
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]


Tuesday, 20th April '04

What A Feeling! *80's Style Grande Jete*

Well. It's finally over. Three months without school. That's a quarter of a year! Tzo would say (why did she pick this up in Cambridge of all places?): Woo!

First a word on the Nicholl Highway situation. Well, for the folks overseas, a good chunk of it collapsed today. Right after the last Contract paper. The last news I heard, 1 dead and 3 casualties. We were one person short of a mass casualty exercise, and Mum cancelled her dinner because her nurses (TTSH) and the SGH folks had to be on standby. Apparently caused by some explosion at the MRT site right outside Golden Mile. No terrorists suspected yet. But now we're all waiting to see what will happen.

That stuff apart... my hols have finally started and here are somethings I've got planned that I'm looking forward to. In no particular order but how they're occuring to my wonderfully disorganised and free-from-legal-reasoning brain:

* Raffles Move and Groove.
* 21st Chalet II.
* Bangkok with the Smubbies.
* Dage, Limin, Luk, Tzo, Ningz, Tian'ai's homecoming. Amongst the homecomings of all the other 21st and my classmates, of course.
* Playing Bball. I insist the Smubs / 21st / Oteam do this soon.
* Getting my hands dirty directing the Repro film. I know I will regret this. Man.
* Saturday Night Fever on a Saturday afternoon.
* Stayovers! At whoever's houses and airport.
* Spending the birthday Borders voucher!
* Coming up with v.2 of My Smelly Shoes.
* Designing the 21st blog. Help most welcome.
* Renting lots of DVDs and VCDs.
* Reading storybooks again.
* Messing around in the Taxi Driver Project.
* Looking for accomodation this year and seeing if I can work anything out with Ave.
* Glossolalia.
* Returning Tzo's email.
* Making myself new desktop wallpaper.
* Designing new Nokia 3200 cover inserts.
* Watching accumulated TV programmes.
* Re-Bubuing with 401, if that materialises.
* The second Spiderman installment!

Some things I want / need to do, but I'm not looking forward to THAT much because it will involve substantial work that I might not always enjoy:

* Cleaning my room.
* Law Orientation. Especially RnF.
* Arranging my Tort, Criminal and Contract mugger notes and sorting out what I can sell.
* Sorting out my A-level stuff (yes, the pile has been gathering dust since December 2002.)
* Moving all my junk out of KR.
* Buying new clothes.
* Doing something to my hair.
* Editing Siyuan's script. 80 pages sounds daunting, and my scripting skills suck.
* Trying to arrange for Re-Bubuing.

Alright... to everyone still having papers, hang in there! Night, all.


en ying snapped a shot of life @ 09:17 pm
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]


Saturday, 17th April '04

Saffron Yellow

Horrible horrible day. I haven't a clue as to how the HECK I'm going to finish everything I need to finish at the snail's pace I'm going.

"All these little things in life, they all create this haste.
Too many things to get done, and I'm running out of days." -- 3 Doors Down

Sorry Wei, I know you hate song quotes =).

Looks like this last minute pia-ing for exams and not getting my groove on is going to become a sad sad habit. As Dage says, kaoz... I'm never going to finish. The problem is that I'm not even panicking yet. As it is, all I want to do is curl up and sleep.

I want to watch TV. I want to play computer games. I want to go Orchard road and gaigai. I want to run through the halls in my high school. I want to scream at the top of my lungs... geez. Sorry, got carried away. I hardly need to cite my source for those lyrics, do I?

And it's a fine time to kena food poisoning AGAIN. Everytime I have plans to meet the 21st it happens. Before orientation, on the night of Return of the King. Kaoz. At this rate I'm going to miss CC either because my anus still hurts and I'm still getting sporadic double-up-my-body-inducing stomach cramps, or because of the numerous sleeps I had to take today (it really wasn't worth studying since everytime I got settled I had to bolt to the bathroom or some cramp would come on) I'm never going to finish studying. I know, Qiong, Zhihui, I'd have taken the Poh Chai stuff, but my parents aren't big Chinese medicine fans.

WHINE.

AND... *maybe the squemish folks should stop reading here. Continue at your own peril* after that long chat with Tzo about worms and parasites the other night, guess what I saw in my rather watery fecal matter? Thin little black strings of things about 2 inches long. Kaoz. On closer examination (what? WHAT? I didn't go THAT close. And when you think you've got a parasite infestation in your rectum you'd tend to get a little concerned too.) they turned out to be strips of black fungus I had for lunch yesterday.

I could have SWORN I chewed.

AND THEN, AND THEN *stutters with indignation* that was just the first bout. Subsequent bouts were minus the fungus bits, but they were saffron yellow. SAFFRON YELLOW!! This time I don't know HOW that came about, but it's kind of a bright colour to be coming out of my rear end, don't you think? Decidedly creepy.

AND THEN... AND THEN... AND THEN... guess what? Our house has seemed to run out of the nice soft luxury 4-ply toilet roll we use for special occasions such as this. All I had left were the coarse 2-ply things that ordinarily provide good friction for cleaning you-know-what... but they're awful when you're running to the damned toilet every half and hour or so. Now I swear I know the subtext lying beneath "I clean backside!" / "ARGH!! PAIN! PAIN!". Now, I also have to sit down carefully and arrange my somewhat-sizable and J.Lo-esque butt cheeks close together so that they don't spread open and cause pain by stretching too far apart what's in between them.

Ok, maybe you didn't need to know that. I DID warn you about reading on, didn't I?

But as En Ying goes, by the time you hear me whine about all this, it's usually not so bad anymore. And, in line with my aim of keeping this pseudo-blog nice and happy sounding, I actually found a silver lining...

At least no one can call me anal-retentive now. *big cheesy grin*


en ying snapped a shot of life @ 01:54 pm
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]


Wednesday, 14th April '04

"Murder", She Wrote.

Well, the words she wrote included, inter alia, duress, necessity, liability, Fingapuri *snort* and common intention. But suffice to say that the Criminal Law paper is over, and unless I screw up majorly (there was sooooo little time!!) I won't be working about anything Criminal related till I next watch The Practice.

Speaking of which, did anyone watch last Monday's? The twist at the end was awesome! Mum and I just sat there and GAPED. It made the simplest thing so very creepy... amazing... mucho props to the director and scripter! Possibly even hit The Sixth Sense twist level... just that I would have left out Eugene's last line and left the image to tell the story... but that's the critic in me talking.

Went to UCC's Olio Dome today to celebrate the end of Crim with Jia, Serbee and Eva. Met Jia's SC-RJ friends Mel and Candice (and some other girl who didn't talk so much so that I actually forgot she was there) too. Talked about everything from 20th Sean Ho's girlfriend (yeah, Ningz, your cousin right? Haha.) to the Winston-Charmaine saga to how one of the Miss Singapore Universe contestants looks like a horse. It's not an insult, it's a fact. She's actually the only one I can remember because, well, she has outstanding features.

The oddest thing happened today... Dad and I went to pick Mum up after my Crim paper, and we had about an hour to wait for her. So we parked outside the Neuro Center and tried to go in. But, after about 6 the doors only open from the inside, not the outside. So we were stuck.

We went mad. Picture this: 20 year old young woman and 50 plus Dad standing in front of sliding glass doors waggling our fingers and bellowing "OPEN SESAME!!! OPEN SALAMI!! OPEN SASHIMI!!!". Yes, we were quite a sight. Then we try different languages ("KAI ZHI MA!"). And just when we give up and started walking away (we were about 30m from the door), someone exits the building! I attempt (argh! That word again!) to sprint the distance with splendid failure and turn back and walk off, head hung low. And then we see yet ANOTHER person approaching the doors from the inside and we proceed to do the (bangla)dash to the door and we actually make it though (amidst a good number of whoops and giggles). Poor lady making her exit must have decided to go buy 4D.

So guess where I am now? TTSH's visitor's canteen typing away. *laugh*. Mum's late. AGAIN.


en ying snapped a shot of life @ 06:34 pm
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]


Saturday, 10th April '04

Ain't That Fresh?

Well. I had a good day mugging and out with Ave (and having my organiser vandalised beyond recognition). I was all ready to come home and write a nice Musing about a bit of that and about my dismal studying habits and rave madly about the Clay Aiken version of "Solitaire" (which, incidentally, completely knocked my socks off! Tzzzoooo... I swear this will convert you! *kicks into fangirl mode*). Basically I was going to show you all the nice, happy, humourous bits of me that you've all been privy to in this website over the last year or so.

Unfortunately for us all, I got interrupted by... Civil War.

"What we've got here is failure to communicate.
Some men, you just can't reach.
So you get what we had here last week.
Which is the way he wants it.
Well, he gets it.
And I don't like it anymore than you do." -- Guns N' Roses, "Civil War"


For anyone who actually knows what the problem is (or at least can guess at it)... I didn't make these lyrics up! But it's uncanny how well they fit.

I'm quite sure I'm basically a nice person, and I am upset, not so much over this "civil war", but the fact that it has made me act completely unlike myself. I complain a lot about it, I actually get angry and irritable about it (not something I'm prone to do), and I both despise and dismiss its primary perpetrator. It's pathetically hateful. It's sad that much as I try, I really can't be much of a saint about it and turn the other cheek and do what Jesus did and pray for his forgiveness because he knows not what he does. I'm just not that good. But it's times like these that I am reminded of how imperfect I am, and how much further I have to go.

And with all this studying going on, I suppose it's nice to know that even the law recognises the need for "compassion for human frailty" (R v. Hayward) in provocation and duress.

I also realise that I have quite a propensity for violence and vengence. Again, quite sadly. I've tried to be nice, really! But...

"Ain't that fresh?
I don't need your civil war."


I try hard to be nice. But listen. Don't provoke me. I don't take kindly to it and I am more than able to protect myself. I know when it's time for buggers to, well, bugger off. I can quote you brilliant secondary and probably primary authority to prove that "one man's rights end where another's nose begins". And there is definately someone way to close for comfort. So don't blame me if your stink stimulates a sneeze and you suffer all the accompanying respiratory spray. It's a reflex action for me, borne out of the instinct for self-presevation, and it'll be entirely your own fault.

In terms of punishment, I am quite a retributivist (haha, too much Legal Theory assignment. Gah.) However, when it comes to my personal business I am not much of a lex talionis fan. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth? Not me. I will hold out as long as I can - just don't try your luck. Go too far and I will just finish you off once and for all. Being a retributivist doesn't preclude acknowledging utiltarian principles. And I believe in effective remedies. Incapacitation, deterrence, hopefully rehabilitation. I will administer them all in one go.

Again, I must apologise to everyone else for the grumpy, angry tone that has infiltrated this website. I now promise that this is the end of my responses to the "civil war". I have better things to do with my life. I will not stoop to that level beacause it simply isn't worth it... joining the barbarians. From now on I will be good ol' positive the webmistress you all know and love. *chuckle* You DO love me, don't you? *puppy-dawg eyes*

"What's so civil about war anyway?"


en ying snapped a shot of life @ 01:57 am
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]


Friday, 9th April '04

Go The Distance

Commemorative post, I guess. And a big reminder to myself, in many ways. Especially in the wake of all the Passion of the Christ stuff, I think we might be forgetting to see the event in its celebratory light as well.

Be moved, be touched, but also be glad.

Now if only I can find a way to make me not hate every waking moment I spend in a church. I don't know why, I do. I hate the place and most of the people there. I hate their self-righteous rhetoric, the way they try to emotionally blackmail me, the way things are run. I'm not saying I hate the individuals, I just generally don't like people when they're in "Christian-mode". I don't even like a lot of good friends when they're in that mode. And I hate the way many Bible-totting people are pretentious idiots. There, I've said it. It's probably just me.

But that's not the point of this Musing.

"Go The Distance" - Clay Aiken

The Father and the Son stepped out
Looked down at the world below
A distant world where sin-strong arms had struck a fatal blow
There had to be a sacrifice
Across a lonely hill
Someone had to span the globe
So Jesus said "I will"

I will go the distance
I will go that far
I will give up everything to bring them where you are
Even though I could choose the path of least resistance
Father I will take the cross
I will go the distance

To think about His sacrifice leaves me with a choice to make
So many stand just out of reach
With eternity at stake
I can be the go-between, walk the extra mile
If just one should find The Way
Then it's been worth the while

I will go the distance
I will go that far
I will give up everything to bring them where you are
Even though I could choose the path of least resistance
Father I will take the cross
I will go the distance

Father I will take the cross
I will go the distance


en ying snapped a shot of life @ 09:28 pm
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]


Room With A (Deja) View

Either I haven't got out enough after Secrets, or... *sigh*. Stranger things have happened, RIGHT?

* Yesterday Yingren (I think) said she didn't want to grow old.


* It's a full moon night tonight.


* Dad offered me a charsiew bun. I declined. He told me to take the veggie bun instead. After searching and taking what I thought couldn't be the charsiew bun, I found out that it WAS. It's like fate or something.


* Yet another bug landed on my arm at the coffee shop today. I paniced and flicked it off before ascertaining if it was another cockroach.


And here's the real chart topper:

* As I pranced past the TV and bounded onto her bed, Mum said: "Monyet lah you!"


Yes. She called me a monkey. In MALAY. *faints*


en ying snapped a shot of life @ 07:25 pm
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]


Wednesday, 7th April '04

FEEEEESSH DEEEEPPERRS?!?

YINGREN:
I buy you McDonald's can? Burger?

BEN:
Yeeaaahh...

YINGREN:
Fish McDippers?
-- *click of phone being hung up*

BEN:
...

-- 10 minutes later in Ben's car where Ben is driving --

BEN:
Whadd eez deez?!?
-- *rude hand gestures*
Hurrr? You said burger?? I said YEEAAHH... yoouu buyy WHADD?? Feesh Deeppers?
-- *voice crescendo*
Whadd derr HELLLL are Feesh Deeppers?? Six puny chunks of feesh?? FEEEEESSH DEEEEPPERRS?!?

(Minus BenKoh intonation it sounds more like: "What is this? Huh? You said burger? I said yeah... you buy what? Fish Dippers? What the hell are Fish Dippers? Six puny chunks of fish? FISH DIPPERS?!?")

-- *turning to Andre in the front passenger seat*
I'm BLARDY hungry. Whadd are yoouu waiteeng for? Feedd mee!

(Translation: "Excuse me, but I'm feeling a litle peckish right now... would you be so kind as to pass me some food please?")

ANDRE:
... you want sauce with that?

***

When you pay attention, life is full of little comedy scripts.

Anyways, yup! It was Kai's birthday today. HAPPY BIRTHDAY STRAWBERRY!!! Had a lot of fun (and abandoned my schoolwork) hanging out at Mos with Ren, Zhen, Dre and Shaun and hiding from Kai who happened to be in the vicinity. And then Ben's huge saga about his Fish McDippers... sigh, TRUST Yingren to go and mess that up. Ben hasn't forgiven her, obviously. I think he'll be holding the whole affair over her head for the next 20 years. Indeed, Ben, you the MAN. And the TAXI DRIVER too! *cue evil cackle*.



Kai was quite surprised, but lucky we got to give her the big fat angpow. And I had to slap her until her knee turned red before she would accept it. But seriously, we should make angpows a tradition so (i) she won't feel so khay kee about it and (ii) we all save the effort buying presents we won't use.

A hundred markers, on the other hand, are very useful for making muggery mindmaps! =)


en ying snapped a shot of life @ 11:21 pm
[1 photograph developed.]


Tuesday, 6th April '04

Fisherman Village

Yet another completely random entry.

Studying is a complete mess. I can't seem to get my act together. Too much time spent sleeping (at least that's something) and online and watching TV and doing random things that are completely usesless for helping me pass my papers.

Legal Theory weekend was abysmal again. But the last time I felt this lousy about a paper I got an A, so maybe I'll get damn lucky again.

CC's coming so soon! Should perhaps message Jian' An and ask for the name of my great-grandbuddy. Or maybe I should just ask Si straight. Should also update Adrian and ask if he's going. Haven't seen either of my up and down buddies for ages. Should start thinking about buddy presents. Check out my old locker. Has been in the buddy tree for 6 generations now. When RJ moves to Bishan I insist they bring it along =).

Everytime study periods come round I realise how much I miss the Smub Club. Especially the core mugging group. LIMIN! DAGE! BERT! GNET! You hear that? I miss you all. Especially today. I finally sent my very overdue rolls of film for developing. Guess what I found? Pictures from Limin's farewell And maybe some from Bert's birthday. I can't quite remember exactly which:



Limin. You are mad. Ha!



Nostalgia, yeah? Here we are, the Smub pioneers. Dage looks so hairless (he's so gonna kill me when he sees this).



Even suddenly obtained some pictures that we took in the presentation chalet the night and morning after beach bash. Poor Ross and Yip Man. But how nice that the two possibly most bullied people in presentation wound up happily attached. =)


And pictures of the Japanese Judges, when we were actually all still together. Linus as Cupid. 'Nuff said.



Also have some strange pictures of Tzozen's dogs and Peiying and Zihui doing something quite questionable. Yes, that's how old these photos are.



Us at various places in Malaysia.



Even have Ningz in my KR room.



Have the TFYE first showing photo in hardcopy now too. If I'm not wrong, the phrase of the day was "say APPLE!". *sniff*



Got a couple of this little sweetie too! TF, I believe? Lovely eyes. Too bad about YE though. Sigh.





And even photos that I took of the Council Room during orientation for the 24th batch! Took memory photos of the CCAD room especially, in view of the fact that they're not likely to take huges chunks of wall along to Bishan. Look at those Cheer Squad loudhailers! Do they all belong to the 23rd? Ben, Heng, Angela! We could've had one each!


And last thing, I went out for dinner with Mum and Dad to Pasir Ris beach... found this really cool place called Fisherman Village. You sit right by the sea, they play old school music like Return to Innocence (!!), you can smell the sea, it has romantic looking lantern thingies, it has a pool table (!!!) and it's all in all good. Downside is the food is mediocre only. Ah well. Must bring Smub here one day!


en ying snapped a shot of life @ 10:47 pm
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]


Tuesday, 2nd April '04

Goodbye Teenhood

Alright. This is it. I am now officially 20. Yes, my age begins with the digit '2'. I am old. I have officially completed my second decade of existence. I have lost the right to be a complete monster to my parents, leave my dishes unwashed in KR overnight and to sit on the floor in the public train.

Bleugh.

I am also supposed to be working on a Legal Theory paper, but I cannot bring myself to do so. And I'm supposed to be an adult here.

Maybe it's just me, but it's a bit scary leaving teenhood behind. Even if I was over 18 and practially an adult, having 'teen' as a suffix to my name was still SOME kind of reassurance that I still have a long life ahead of me, plenty of time to make mistakes and not worry so much about the quarter life crisis and the fact that I haven't made a huge deal out of my existence to this date. And isn't it funny that I conclude the chapter of my teenage life one week after we closed the Secrets run? To quote the Artist Formerly Known as Prince, it's time to act my age, not my shoe size. Sigh.

But on a MUCH lighter note, I spent my last minutes of teenhood with a wonderful bunch of folks, whom, one year ago, I would never have imagined I would be spending such a significant time with. In fact I didn't even plan for it, I expected to be home and either doing some constructive work (not!) or sleeping or something during that time. But I have to say that spending my 365th day of being 19 with Ave, Siti, Beck, Audrey and TC was a worthwhile way to spend it. Whee! And I wasn't even conscious that I had / was about to spend that time with them till Aud passed me my present.

For the record, a major THANK YOU to Audrey, Ave, Beck, Siti and Tasha for the markers, earings and book voucher, and to the odd-one-out TC for realising it was time for a birthday greeting just in time. *blows flying kisses all round* And while I'm at it, more thanks and flying kisses to everyone who messaged / tagged with well wishes... Jov, Bert, Kai, Beck, Chris Ho, Ave, Mich, Qiong, Su Ching, Zhihui, Gnet, Meihui and Nurul... (if I've missed anyone out please slap me next time you see me). And special props to the sweetest dudes... Dage for messaging from the US! Big Buddy Adrian for offering to buy me a special birthday dinner and deliver it if I was too busy doing Legal Theory to get myself food! And good old pal and Ninja Turtle junkie Vincent for calling from a bus in Thailand (man, that was unexpected!) where he's doing his navy stint! All of you babies made me feel so loved... just wanted you know I really really appreciate it...

But back to yesterday's dinner... *rotfl* I think we started the day by finding out about Errol's rabid fanclub. Anyone who's seen Secrets will understand (yeah, Mich, you saw what Friday's audience was like!). So Beck was sitting on a bus that day and she got on with Rosalind and a couple of secondary school girls. Sorry Beck, if I'm taking liberties with your story, I can't help it, it's just so damn funny!

GIRLS: (whispering excitedly and glancing over their shoulders at where Beck was sitting in front of Rosalind) It's her... I tell you it's her... It's HER lah!

BECK thinks girls are just spotting Rosalind... after all, you'd expect secondary school girls to get all jostled up about a pretty Light Years starlet, right?... and minds her own business.

GIRLS: (more tittering) No lah, REALLY, it's her! It's her!

BECK starts to get uncomfortable with GIRLS continously casting sidelong glances at her area of the bus. Pulls on hood and tries to nap and ignore them.

GIRLS: (obviously quite indefatiguable) It's HER!!! HER!!!

By which time BECK is staring at them, quite annoyed.

GIRLS: (noticing BECK's irritation and finally realizing they look like idiots) ... HORNY HORNY!!!

Good grief. I won't be surprised if these were the same girls that queued up to take photos together with that big Cock. As Ave says, why do they ALWAYS remember "horny horny"? Why don't they remember "Go home!" or something? TC's answer: because she's not 15, male, cute, and a big Cock. *hefty sigh*

So yup... we went to Seoul Garden for dinner... spouted lines at each other, kao beh-ed about various things in our lives etc. etc. Yours truly got diaoed incessantly about turing everything into an academic exercise... JUST TELL ME, WHO DOESN'T USE THE ANGLE OF INCIDENCE = ANGLE OF RELECTION RULE WHEN PLAYING POOL? It's not an academic exericise, it's just an efficient way of going about stuff... using my brain. AND I'LL EAT MY HAT IF MY DIAPHRAM IS BELOW MY BELLYBUTTON. TZO??? GNET??? LUK??? *growl*

But where was I? Yes, Seoul Garden... food was way better than I expected, but the treat (or at least subsidise) I was supposed to give the girls didn't come to pass... All you girls get to by a frap on me from Starbucks, okie? Don't come and claim then don't complain I don't treat you hor. And in the course of the dinner we discover that now that he isn't our director, TC is one huge gossipy kaypo... who would have known? I think overall we sat at the place for close to three hours... talking about TFYE, the "emo-ness" of the end of Secrets, how Audrey looks when she's asleep (scary!), how far TC got with his attempt striptease last Saturday (not far, thank goodness), how long we cooked the mussels, how I didn't want a replay of my 5-day KL Tower raw oyster-induced diarrhea, how the HECK Errol has a fan club, how TC felt about "horny horny" being the quotable quote of the play, how Ave and I should share a place next year, how Siti couldn't stand people who gave up easily (on buffets and multiple helpings!), who wanted to adopt this Ave, shrieking everytime something came on the radio from the house music CD, mangling our lines to make them look like more of TC's typos (Carp lah! You are afiard! / Corssfade / Vuluture / Cockraoch / I want to go to Sitihor...). So it was a lot of fun, just idle chit chat and story swapping and recounting the whole TFYE experience (and dirty laundry, muahaha. Hey, blame our curious director).

Then we headed down to the Esplanade and sat around my the waterside for entirely too long... (and I was thinking how a year ago the 21st danced the mass dance with the 23rd batch at that same spot!)... and I got everyone to doodle on my organiser (thanks Ave, for the Trixie portrait and Beck for even marking out David's birthday), and we had too much fun with the 100 markers (WHAT'S WRONG WITH WANTING THEM IN A SPECIFIC ORDER AND BEING ANAL ABOUT IT?). Oh and we phoned Nata-shoe... the poor little sweetie got stood up by the bloke she was helping with his monologue and was therefore at home doing homework... and it was damn funny when we took turns to speak to her and Ave said "guess who?" and TC went "Natasha! Focus!" and there was this long shocked silence before she went "Hi TC!". Nata-shoe (Slipper? Sandal? de Coco?) is the darlingest baby I know. Never fails to make me laugh... And TC made the stupidest joke about vending machines:

BECK and I were talking about how we hated guys who pierced their ears and then did things to enlarge the earholes till you could stick 50 cent coins in them and they looked like deformed Buddhas.

TC: What 50 cent coin?

Significant amount of time spent trying to explain how the 50 cent amount figured in the discussion.

TC: Orh. At least he won't have a problem at the vending machine.

Someone just shoot me. Now.

Yeah, so we sat around until Siti and I had to rush off to catch our last trains... and the other four cabbed back home (wah liao, cab for four, how anti-social).

*sigh* Time for bed. Need to wake up early to pia Legal Theory, or I'll really regret it when I can't hang around with the TFYE-ers tomorrw.


en ying snapped a shot of life @ 12:38 am
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]