Friday, 25th July '03
ďÖ you never believe that something is going to happen to you. Not like it does in the movies. And when it actually does, you expect it to feel different. More visceral. More real. I was waiting for it to hit me.Ē
I donít quite know how to start. I know she deserves me to write about her because she was never anything but wonderful to me. Even if she wasnít close. Kind, cheerful, always lovable. Was.
To the best of my knowledge I got the message this morning at around 10 plus. And I couldnít feel. As in the brain goes Shit. But the heart beats as normal. It didnít skip, it didnít palpitate, and it didnít even hurt.
It just felt wrong. Like this wasnít news I was supposed to be receiving. It was news for someone in a film to get. I expected the classic reaction from myself. Clasp hand on mouth, dilate pupils, knees get weak and wobbly and sink onto the nearest physical support. Instead I thought my heralder had made a typo. ďAttemptedĒ was the word she wanted. Not ďCommittedĒ.
I feel wrong. I feel bad. I feel stunned. But I donít feel hit.
Iím alternating between states. One part of me thinks of the first time I met her, and I donít always remember first meetings. She was a skating pal first, a PSL soon after, a councilor even further on. Short, small, blue skate covers, a willingness to take all the little kids at the rink through their tag games and silliness. A junior in a dolphin printed shirt with blue sleeves, a junior in a blazer with a big badge. A friend who messaged right at the start of the SARS fiasco to ask my mum what she and others in the school could do to help. My stomach clenches, my chin feels prickly.
But I havenít actually really seen her in more than six months. It doesnít feel like sheís not there.
I know she isnít. And Iím beginning to miss her.
Went back to school. The silence was so loud. No one knows why and I feel cheated. There has to be a why. There canít be no why. Hers was a young and beautiful life, she said she wanted to be a doctor, she was looking for a good med school. There has to be a damn WHY.
Too fast and I still donít know what to think. Sometimes I my insides seize up. Sometimes I just feel normal. I realize that for almost all the time I spend in the room Iím hanging on to this dusty yellow cushion. Needed something to hold.
This perverse need to observe takes over. Because I donít know what to do with me I just sit there and watch. Someone lies on the sofa, for all intents and purposes, fast asleep. Her eyelids quiver, she twitches when someone walks by. Eventually she sits up, and is compelled to repeat two words ďIím tiredĒ several times. Lie back down, get up, ďIím tiredĒ. Itís a dance designed to provide an avenue to close her eyes to the truth outside.
Some walk in, pick up their schoolbags. They leave for home, nary a passing remark. Goodbye is not a word that can be said out loud.
Someone is puffy-eyed. I touch her wrist and we pull into each otherís arms. She doesnít want to talk and although I want to know, I donít want to talk either. Itís too much work. As she moves away her arms fold across her abdomen, emotional anguish expressed as a gastric no antacid can neutralize.
Someone starts a conversation in hushed tones. Compares a handphone. The topic drops in less than 3 exchanges. Someone picks up a football. The game withers to a walk on the grass.
Someone sits, she fiddles with a tear in her bag. A minor inconvenience of before, now a huge rent in the search of something else, anything else, to which to transfer her attention.
Weíre not in tears. We cope. We deal. But the air is dense, and our guts are empty. We canít be happy, yet we canít be sad. We have lost something we know we love, but we havenít needed to use it yet.
I hate that there are people I know who talk about being depressed like theyíre in love with the sheer notion of being depressed. They talk about suicide, self-mutilation, how they have no courage to die.
They donít want to die. Not really. They want sympathy they donít need, and they want an excuse to live life with more concessions than everyone else.
I hate that Iíve spent time on people like this, these noisy, grabbing narcissists. Why did I bother when there was someone closer whom I simply didnít see?
Itís like loosing the favourite coin in a collection. Or having the PC hang just when an essay slaved over, an unsaved one, is completed. You want to throw things, bang a wall, curse and swear. And it sickens you to know you canít. Life, in its brutal relentless way, goes on.
You go for your next class, you smile and joke and try to laugh when you meet people who didnít know her. You feel guilty that you have a life that you can still experience in all its entirety. You report for work, you fulfill your responsibilities. Not all the flags in the country will fly at half-mast for this one person who felt so miserable she not only lost a will to live, she gained a determination to die.
Crap. They should.
I learn the sign for ďdieĒ in sign language class today. Itís a small but deliberate move, a mere flipping over of two extended palms. It looks exactly what it is and what it was in this case. But for all it can say of the physical aspect of death, itís an insincere platitude of everything else associated with death. The disgusting realization that one moment she was there and the next time I see her sheíll be in a jar at the columbarium. I donít know what Iíll do about that. I canít even begin to imagine what her family must feel. I know I couldnít take it.
For the first time Iím thankful I havenít a sibling. Thatís one less person with a capacity to hurt me in this way.
My classmate makes a joke about how it looks like a ďdead fish flipping its bodyĒ. I see why itís funny, I do. I even giggle because I still need to be normal for the rest of the world. But the dinner I had an hour ago has disappeared from my stomach. Maybe it wants out the way it went in.
ďI can go the distance, I can go that far, I can 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.Ē
Iím scared this will happen again. This time not to just a casual friend, but to someone I hold dear, someone I couldnít live without. And Iím scared itíll happened to someone I love who hasnít come to know Him yet.
At this moment, I havenít. I havenít dared because my closest friends wonít appreciate my trying. Iím afraid that if I talk to them too much Iíll even lose what little conviction I have myself. A vapour trying to liquefy cannot cool another vapour too. I donít even know what that last sentence means. It just sounds like what I feel.
I donít even know what religious inclination this friend had. I prayed the moment I heard the news that Heíd have mercy on her soul. Stupid stupid clichť. But I canít take it that if she hadnít found Him before thisÖ all this hellfire and bloody damnation. The Crucible. She was too good. Was. I canít believe I have learnt to instinctively refer to her in the past tense.
We even learnt how to sign ďGo to HellĒ today. How easily we bandy that phrase around. Now that I think on it, itís not in the least funny.
I donít know, I still donít know. Iím going to bed. Writing isnít sorting out anything the way it thought it would and it sounds like some pretentious crap. Well, crap pretty much summaries today anyway.
Is this the way the cookie crumbles?
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]
Friday, 18th July '03
The Fucked Bitch
I apologize for the langauge again, I do. But I'll take some artistic liberty, I suppose.
It is definately a red-letter day for me. I say this, not in sarcasm, not really in anger. Well, a bit of ah lian "want to fight ah?" doesn't constitute mad rage, does it? I'm not looking for sympathy - I don't think the opinion of a single soul should warrant it and anyway i know I'm way less likely to be have been "broken in" than the abovementioned soul, but a little affirmation of my still assumed non-bitch status couldn't hurt. Ha. I am such a human. But seriously, I'm taking this as a purely academic exercise, so Charn, Cruz, if you actually training-in-human-pschology peeps feel like giving me a hand, please do. Check this out:
"...the fact that this fucked bitch from this JC thinks she's so flabbergastingly better than others makes me wince in disgust. i seriously have no respect for her. she writes that she wished people would see things her way, but we do. its just that she's not as good as us, though she thinks she is. her monopoly of the leader's position is so disconcerting that i personally feel tired."
She writes well, doesn't she? Powerful words used precisely to convey exact emotions, and certainly not shyly. Enough to put me in a state of mild shock, at least. Until I came to this quite disturbing realization that... I actually think exactly the same of her. (Oh my, I _am_ a cretin.) Apart from the fact that she hasn't been able to carry out the "monopolising of the leader's position" bit. Looks like I have inadvertantly seen to that. Oops.
She also covers a lot of worth-pondering points... which I should now begin to address.
Hmm. Scientifically speaking, not too accurate. Still a virgin - I assume I'd know if I had "fucked" of have "been fucked". A bitch is a female dog, right? Female: I hope so! Dog: readers will have to come to their own conclusion.
I haven't touched Literature for a good 2.5 years, but I suspect the strategic toss-in of such words were intended to convey a certain implication about the JC I come from. Like what, then? That all girls from RJ are "fucked bitches"? In which case, God help us all, because a good many of us are going to be in policy-influencing posts and have illustrious careers. That I don't deny, the track record speaks for itself. But yet again, not all of us do, right? Would that possibly exclude any of us from that dubious honour?
Limin and I (with Lucas, Jia, Kai and Ying Ren if I remember right) once had this talking session about not turning into snobby asses. When I worked at Parkway I met two girls who stopped school after secondary, and I told the rest how small I felt compared to them. The knew how to press for sales like pros (which they were, basically), the ettiquette of being a push-cart person, they counted change in a flash with the utmost confidence. Limin shared about the ridiculously good lives we've had, telling us about this pupil of hers who was told one fine day to move out of her own home just because her father decided there wasn't enough room in the house for her. About this friend she has who's ex-boyfriend just got another girl pregnant. And we all felt unworldy and guilty for having a chance at life that so many other kids JUST LIKE US couldn't get.
Babs also talked about the concept of reverse-snobbery, how she sometimes felt a victim of it the moment she had to tell anyone where she came from. And how most of us refrain from telling anyone our grades / school unless asked. At which point we're proud of them, because we've darn well earned them. And pride in our school has nothing to do with it being a school that has worked hard to gain academic excellence / sporting pretty-goodness and come out a winner. Ask any Rafflesian what the word "Raffles" means to them, and the chances are you'll hear something about a sense of belonging where you're not judged for being a jock or geek, or for being neither at all. You'll hear the pride in the looking out for each other, cheering on each other JUST BECAUSE we're part of a family, and nothing less. Where you aren't judged based on what scholarship you get, what book prize, what sport you play. Where you're just YOU. Except by the ORA, who's admission criteria remain questionable. And Qiong once shared about feeling constantly left out at her work place because the only person she felt any bond too at all was Sera, and she just couldn't muster up any enthusiasm about her boyfriend (none, see) or latest boyband becuase that was just not who she was.
And yet, no one cares that this JC's folks have problems too. It becomes an eternal assumption that because we get good grades, life is perfect. For some yes, but more loads more the problems are different. Less consequential, but nonetheless hurting. It is hard not to get a scholarship when everyone you've known is flying off to Harvard, Stanford, Cambridge, Oxford. When they get _paid_ to study when there seems no one company or government body that cares if your dreams are lived or crushed? To think you've done so much to come this far and yet realize that you could have just taken 3 subjects, screw the fourth and the 'S' Papers, as far as they will get you in NUS? To think that you'd be forgotten when all your friends come back from the cool places they've been, and thinking yourself lesser than them because you've had the easy life of studying in your own country, losing all these people who meant so much to you.
To have relatives who never cared much for you till you got into "this JC", after which they treat you like a God, want you to tuition their kid, ask your opinion on everything. To have friends from outside say things like "what are you worried about? You'll get 4 A's...", without knowing the fear you have of NOT being in the 40% that did, or worse, actually getting the heinous "B" which will cause your civics tutor to give you this disappointed look when handing you the result slip. And will cause your parents to constantly be on your case about how they had so much hope for you, it's all your fault for not concentrating more, they wash their hands off you, ever since you've gone to "this JC" you've thought yourself above studying, that you will now learn a lesson etc etc. My parents don't, thank God, but I know parents that do. And not even daring to talk to friends who you know did better, because you know they'll want to be there to console you, but each time you look in their eyes you're reminded of your own inadequacy. You're left feeling even more alone than ever, not because no one in your school cares, but because it's such a personal issue you're the only one who can sort it out for yourself (thanks, Tzo).
We have the occasional black-sheep who thinks he / she is the Ruler Of All The Earth because the sheep's from our school. Well we treat that sheep exactly how treat should be treated. Baaa to that.
On the objective side, I can see where the "this JC" thing came from. I talk about my personal experiences in school, yeah, but don't we all? Maybe I'm just too in love with my friends there, my 21st, my class. But telling a joke about how some guys call another poor girl "baboon" all the time... is that a crime? How am I behaving superior, tell me? I don't know, I can't make very much of it, but maybe I should be more careful. Maybe no one is interested. Maybe when I say "my classmate said..." it carries so many more connotations than when someone else says it.
"flabbergastingly better than others"
I like this part the best. Really, I do. Because a part of me knows it's true. I have enough confidence in myself to know when I have a good idea, when I can perform a task better than the next person. And it might sound conceited, but I get my kicks from seeing a job well done, and if I contribute my bit to it, usually that's the case. I also know I'm a lot more disciplined than a lot of people and am not afraid to take it upon myself to make a little change here and there. Yet, I know when I'm not, and anyone who's known me and read this webbie, can see it in the way I'm always asking Dage for Maths help, Limin for art appraisal, Roy for AV everything, Tzo and Qiong for web design sorting out, Nora for dance pointers, Zhong Lei for Chem 'S' rescuing, and looking to Ben for leadership in OH and CS. But it's not a matter of ego for me, it's a matter of fact.
And yes, this thesis has now produced what I was looking for, a glimmer of self-realisation. It is the the very fact that I take my abilities or lack of them so unpersonally that I get into trouble like this, that I produce the "fucked bitch" effect. Like now where I actually take time to break this down in this perverse, I-don't-seem-to-have-feelings manner. I suppose a more normal human being might want to cry or write some kind of scathing reply. Damn, what's wrong with me? But back to the point. Here I fail miserably in considering that other people feel things differently. I let the force of my personality get the better of me, and my own selfish need to make everything the best it can be (thanks, Ave) cause me to forget that it is the means, not the ends. All along I have thought the ends justify the means, and in the 21st / Drama fest, all of us believed as so. I have been a bit of an idiot not to see that there are people who don't think that way, and have thus far been quite unable to prevent a major dispute from taking place. I have also been asking for advice in all the wrong places. Limin, Tzo, Wenzheng. They all have what might be called "professionalism" in our cirles, but I now know is just a certain way of thinking not everyone suscribes to. And no one could quite highlight the problem but Ave.
"wished people would see things her way, but we do"
The strangest thing about this is I never expected anyone to do so. Must ask the writer what my way is, because I haven't the foggiest. And to really break it down, human minds can have no telepathy... supposed to be scientifically impossible because of a highly individualised soul imprint, if K'iln People is anything to go by. The argument therefore follows that no one will ever know if they see things my way, nor will I ever know if they do. The writing under analysis is in itself, proof of such.
"she's not as good as us, though she thinks she is"
The statement reinforces the point made two paragraphs above. That I unknowingly make a group of people with a certain disposition upset. I definately said nothing of the sort, for I know full well that while I might be convinced of my "superiority" at some points, I am equally convinced that I lose on many counts to almost everyone I've ever met, which includes the writer. She definately has a more assertive devil-may-care personality that I wish I had. She has a person that loves her dearly and a talent for scriptwriting I don't even come close to. And she definately spells better than I do because, well, everyone does. But she has so much to learn about being a responsible adult, and I don't say this as an age discriminant. There are people younger who are fine, people older than me who are not. Whatever it is, how she is more or less than I am, I'm not shy about it either way. In the end it all really evens out. But how I can show myself the wrong way, it's amazing. Learn from this, En, this statement has been sent from above to strength you now, to show you how to handle more fragile feelings. Asking a mutual friend (who's name I will not mention because it might cause some "turbulence") about this, she says that the writer is "jealous because [I] come from a fantastic school, am an only child, seemingly have no problems, and because [I] have proven myself more competent as a person, glide effortlessly into leadership roles. yah, and [I am] happier." That is gratifying to hear, I won't pretend otherwise, but only the "happier" part makes sense. Though the instinct for self-preservation in me also tends to want to agree with the "competent" bit. Again, I am such a human and no amount of WWJD bracelets will help me on this for a while.
"monopoly of the leader's position"
She's tired, she says. Ok, that would explain why she hasn't got enough conviction to tell me to my face. But back to this "monopoly" thing, which DOES strike me as odd. For one because I don't see that anyone has a smaller part in the showing than I do (for if I was really that unaware of my limitations and want the limelight, then I would do less background work, and grab for large speaking parts like the writer does, right? I would also openly declare that no one else is to oppose my judgement, that no changes can be made to things I've set down, again, as the writer has.), and for another that I'm quite sure I don't. In fact, I take immense pains to make sure I don't, because a team is a team, which we are. Facillitator, perhaps, certainly not leader. And if the perceived leaders don't do anything, who will?
I think Kow or Bert has said this before, he quoted it from somewhere: "If not now, when? If not me, who?" So if no one else takes action, it might as well be me, right? So far there are only two people who have been actively contributing, and the writer was interested for a while before (quite ceremoniously) throwing in the towel. So I can see no reason to think she's being sidelined because that was the way she wanted it? Or am I being dense and assuming that people say what they mean? It was also wierd that when Sharon asked for a title and synopsis there was no action from anyone against the "leadership", and she eventually had to ask Ave to do it.
I always thought it was somewhat presumtuous when Mr Hodge told us in various addresses that leaders really have the status of servants, and when the 20th hammered us time and time again with the "you will be unappreciated, you will be hated, what's right isn't popular" mantra. It was like we were all condescending beings, matyring ourselves just to feel like we've sacrificed and that we're bigger than others. I still think that way. But now have to look at those incidents more closely. After all, these were my seniors, and for the most part, they always knew better.
*sigh* Am tired now, showing is tomorrow. I should be asleep, but what I read was too stimulating. Gosh, I don't hope to ever incur anyone's wrath like this again. It will completely tire my typing fingers out!
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]
Sunday, 13th July '03
A Pot of Piss
I don't care if anyone finds title offensive. It's what I feel like currently. Ok, I do care, if any of my pals from the 21st / 401 and otherwise feel worried for me or wonder when I started to blatently write in a language that I don't normally use. Just that "A Pot Of Excretory Matter" doesn't ever give the same kick.
This is a journal entry with a twist. I have more or less given up trying to be tactful. It isn't quite working and there is a HELL lot of things we need to sort out.
Honestly when we were done with our piece yesterday I was _very_ happy. We had a working piece that was, even by Serena's standards, pretty good. No major meltdowns, and only one little scuffle during that part when we were first trying out the "reaching" bit. But other than that we had an examplary day with focus, respect for each other and a general atmosphere of working together for a common purpose. And I thought it marked a new beginning.
And while it sure didn't start of on a positive note, I had a lot of faith that all the TFYE-ers would be mature enough to understand that to work in a group, sacrifices would have to be made. And it wasn't that I or anyone of the four of us who proposed the "House Rules" didn't think we all were Neanderthals incapable of basic human courtesy. It's just that sometimes we all get carried away and forget these little things that could make working with each other so much more pleasant. Neither was it because we wanted to pull a "Pigs of Animal Farm" thing and impose our will on anyone. I would have been honestly happy if someone else had come up with them. Or if we never had to have them written out in the first place.
So then what? One sends an email saying he wants to quit and asking if anyone else has considered it. He says that "some peeps are trying to lead". I don't know if the quitting bit is emotional blackmail and I'd love to think better of him. What I don't appreciate is the poison pen lettering. If you have a problem with me, you damn well come and tell me to my face. I'm an adult, a mature, thinking, reasoning person and if you have anything better than the IQ of a foetus you can see it. And I believe you are too. No, I - nor anyone else - do not want to lord it over you or people we consider teamates. If you would contribute we wouldn't have to. You're an idiot if you think any of this is fun.
And there's another one. I may not believe you are a mature, thinking, reasoning person. Not yet. But you want to be a theatre person and you can be. Just, to use a word you're fond of, "fucking" grow up. Don't throw narcissistic hissy fits, don't think you're the biggest victim around. Don't even think your feelings will continue to matter to all of us if this goes on. They do now, but very soon I will begin to think you can just sod off. And if you want to be a part of everything so much, then work even when you have no personal interest in it.What gives you any right to slack while the rest of us work? You earn appreciation, it isn't a right. What gives me any right to tell you this? Nothing, really, but the fact that this is my site and I'll say what I think.
Do I look down on the both you right now? Yes, I do. Too bad for all of us. You don't have to listen or care what I think, it's your choice.
I hate writing things that aren't specific to a person. The "some people" insinuations are cowardly and do no good whatsoever. I want to get it out in the open, but I worry that the people won't have the maturity to take it. Yes, I have the basic human need for acceptance as much as you do and I'm not strong enough to be completely unaffected if you decide to hate me. It will sting for a while at least. But I will not mess up the atmosphere before the showing. It's not responsible, and we can't afford it. So for now I will sit here and suck it. Hopefully I will never have to have a "batch forum" (21st, you know what I mean) with these people, and I pray they'll sort themselves out soon. Bloody Hell, I should sort myself out soon. Figure out why I am willing to sacrifice for a stupid little showing when the rest find things like parties of a higher priority. I swear if Serena doesn't come for the Full Dress on Friday I'm just going for my sign language class. I refuse to waste my time and money just waiting for some selfish, can't-be-bothered-to-be-puntual people.
To the rest, I have nothing for now. Just consider your priorities. You signed that contract with a full understanding that the whole affair was going to be more than just an every Saturday class. You were warned of additional rehearsals during peak times. TFYE doesn't have to be the biggest thing in your life, and I am not a big enough person to put it first in my life either. But come on, you do matter, your absence, apathy, lack of attention - whatever - it is felt. I wanted so much to be proud of the TFYE. Like Ave said, she used to live for our sessions. I even considered that even if I had gotten a scholarship I might not have taken it up to stay with the TFYE. Of course HP saying that she would "hoot" me had it's effect too. Heh. But the point is, can we get ourselves together before M1? I am not riding the moral high horse. I hope I'm not, anyway. But I want to be as proud of us as I am proud of my 21st / Class etc. Those of you who were at my second audition might remember what I spoke about when we had two minutes to talk about something that was important to us.
I feel bad for writing like this, I feel like the proverbial pot of piss. It goes with rehearsals that are honestly, shit. I have a bad taste in my mouth and I want it out. I feel like humans are stupid and that there are TFYE-ers that epitomise it. Will I be upset of anyone tries to slap me or says anything mean? Sure. But I don't feel I need to apologize, you have earned it well and truly.
I will now save up this entry for after the showing. We can't afford a meltdown now.
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]
Saturday, 12th July '03
The Buddy Shop
Ha! Finally had my seven generation buddy outing. *grin* Yup, seven generations. You don't get more on than this. And it's really thanks to Gail and Olivia for making all this happen.
See the "Buddy Shop" bit? The photoshop wonders worked by Olivia... looks like from now on we'll all have to meet up with each new addition to the tree and take a new quan jia fu with another "Buddy Shop". *rotfl*
And there I was at the beginning of the outing thinking we were all going to some nice fancy schmancy restaurant at the Esplanade... where did we wind up? Suntec McDonald's. But I have to say the outing was fantastic! Got to meet up again with little buddy Jian and little grandbuddy Si whom I haven't seen since Invest, and big buddy Adrian, big grandbuddy Olivia and greatgrandbuddy Gail whom I haven't met since goodness knows when. And then I met greatgreatgrandbuddy Richard who I've never seen apart from photos... and now I have bragging rights to the rest of the 21st till someone breaks the record. Ha, I bet not.
Wow, and I was amazed we could all talk so well together despite the fact that the age groups spanned 7 years! Ok, Jian' An is the same age as Olivia... but still. There was so much to find out about how the councils have changed since the 17th... the new exco structure, the new functions, the Faction's emergence etc etc. We probably bent (alright, broke) a few rules by sharing CC anecdotes, but Gail the CCIC didn't stop us, so there... =) And I'm _still_ laughing over Adrian's teeth-brushing episode... and Richard's face when he asked Si how she ".. got to BATHE???!!!???". *chuckle*
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]
Friday, 11th July '03
The Beginnings Of Law School Life
Back from community service with the Law Fac. This is going to be one heck of a disorganised entry. So best to do it in point form.
I have learnt lately... or at least discovered to a certain extent:
1. That not all the law girls are *beeps*. Thank you Lord. Seriously, that list that Limin, Kai, Tzo and I saw at Sake Sushi was pretty damn horrifying. But like Jia said, most of them are probably going overseas or I'm not going to see them enough to care. Which is good. Good.
2. That the spirit in Law Fac is way better than I expected. I though RJ orientation was pretty good, with the exception of... um... maybe some not-so-enthusiastic people, but I was seriously impressed by my orientation group (hereafter referred to as OG)! Maybe it's because in uni no one forces things on you. You only go for orientation / camp / community service if you WANT to. And if you care enough to come down you wouldn't be an idiot and not participate or pull stupid hissy fits.
3. That (if it isn't obvious enough by now) I like my OG! Whoo hoo!!! I have never liked my OG as a new person (freshie!) before! Side note, when I was an OGL in RJ I just adored charybdis... they were like the iokus i never had! But back to the point... I was honestly _disappointed_ I couldn't go out with them in the evening... and I was so thankful they made me feel like part of them immediately even though all of them had been for the camp and I hadn't! They even took time to introduce everyone and all the little idosyncracies they had learnt about each other... like how Winston is perpetually drunk... like how Huiling and Hian Zee have dubious alter egos... like how Cheryl has violent tendencies... like how there is _A_ Linus (who I haven't yet met) and how Charles looks like a spiky dinosaur reincarnate... and so on and so forth. And when Cheryl messaged to say she was glad we met one does get this nice, cosy feeling of belonging even without quite knowing anyone yet.
4. That Mark (year 2 councillor, I think) has this scarily uncanny resemblence to CJ of the 20th. It is double-take inspiring. Even Hian Zee agrees...
5. That you don't appreciate how lucky you are to be surrounded by Biology students till you go to Law School. I met Cheryl today and when we both found we were Trip Sciencers we were estatic. We started discussing protein synthesis and singing Bio songs (she does too!), much to the chagrin of everyone in the vicinity.
6. That there strangely seem to be more year 2s in an OG than year 1s.
7. That the guys in the presentation can all perform lifts! In RJ you have to be worried about whether your partner will let you fall in the OH dance. But the guys in uni just CARRY the girls in various impressive Lindy Hopp positions. Ooh, look what NS does for you boys.
8. That the intellectually disabled kids in Guillemard Gardens School are little angels. Honestly, after my nightmare with the Jamiyah Children's Home I never wanted to do community service for kids again. But I felt so heart-warmed when these little ones come up to perfect strangers like us and stick out a grubby hand for a shake or hi-five. And simply how appreciative they are of the little things the faculty did like painting and gardening. And how they find so much pleasure in doing the hokey pokey with us. And how they're so forgiving even when we dance out of time and forget our lines.
9. That I'm now worrying more about hall life than fac life. I haven't been hearing too good things about Kent Ridge. Maybe I should have just gone to Eusoff. Argh. Maybe if it's really bad, and I hope not, i just won't stay second year and bunk up with Qiong and try to get to another hall. But it can't be THAT bad right? Why does everyone give me this raised-eyebrow look? Argh. Argh. Argh.
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]
Sunday, 6th July '03
Since our showing is coming up pretty dang soon, the TYFE had to meet for a little extra work. *sigh* And I will explain why I'm sighing shortly.
So most of us met at Starbucks before going to Natasha's. I don't quite know what to say about this, and I don't know if its my fault or anyone else's or if it's no one's fault at all. It's just... for heaven's sake, we said meet at 5.30pm. And if you have a valid excuse, well and good. If you don't then freaking come at 5.30pm. I honestly cannot believe we only left Starbucks at 6.40pm. This really pushes the boundaries of ridiculous in my book.
But apart from that things went quite smoothly and the tension that had been building up in the egroups somewhat abated. I suppose we had some good bonding time at Starbucks... licking American Cheese Cake, and losing teeth over "Chocolate Rock" (can't the boy just say BISCOTTI?). And being assigned fruits. Umm. Yeah. Fruits. Errol is the first joker I know who wants to be a fruit. A papaya, at that. And for anyone who's interested to know what he's assigned the rest of us, Ave's a soursop (she's not exactly jumping for joy, I assure you), Siti's a longan (neither is she), Beck's a mango (*blink*), and I'm a dragonfruit. At this point making a papaya smoothie out of Errol sounds VERY enticing.
When we reach Nat's house we actually manage to get some work done! The dynamic of the group has grown a lot more civil, I think. Still strained and still very polite, but there does seem a genuine effort made to work together and for that I'm awfully thankful. I hate blow-outs. We've finished the outline of the "play" and are now aligning ourselves against our audience *chuckle*. Luk, Kai, Gnet... you guys must tell me what you gleaned from the play, alright? At this point I'm wishing very hard that Limin could be around to watch... but I'll write a nice long journal entry on it so you can read, ok, girl?
Indeed, it is WAAAYYY harder to work with a group than to have fun together, as we soon discover in our little dinner party later. (We also discover that Errol... cannot... *nevermind*) The thing is, when everyone's just hanging out and talking crap, things like age and culture and maturity gaps don't matter. It's at times like this that it's exciting to see how different people find themselves in different situations and joke about the stupid things that one does or does not do. But when actually working together, the views just tend to clash too much. I'm not saying that mine is better than anyone else's, but I find myself wishing someone else could see things my way. Or that I could see things someone else's way. Or that someone else could just grow up. Or that I could just relax a bit. Or that... you get the idea? Obviously nothing like that ever happens.
I can't quite find a resolution for this within the short span of this entry. We'll work on it, is all I can say. Maybe it just requires more chemistry.
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]