Q

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  • Tradition is tradition.

    This is the thing where I state the first thing that comes to mind. The one immediately after the word is my answer now, first word below is from 07, the next being from 06. Let’s dissect and check out how much I’ve changed.

    1. Cigarettes: Stink.

    07: Butts. 06: Tobacco.

    I’m visibly less material/visual. You’ll see.

    2. Friends: Awesome

    07: French fries. 06: Lovely.

    I was probably hungry back in 07. Awesome and Lovely are both really gross words, but I tried to stick to the immediate response thing. And my friends ARE kinda both those.

    3. Relationships: Stink

    07: Problems. 06: Lesbians.

    Evidently I’ve never taken very well to relationships and still don’t. LESBIANS? What was I up to? I don’t remember.

    4. Power Rangers: Rei-En

    07: Gamma Rays. 06: Lousy

    LOUSY? Don’t kill me Rei.

    5. Marijuana: Chicken pie

    07: Cocaine. 06: Nice name.

    Marijuana IS a nice name. And I know why Chicken Pie. I was probably thinking pot and skipped a neuron to land smack into food.

    6. Shit: Constipation

    07: Chocalate. 06: My favourite word besides passion.

    Shit is a disgusting word. Chocolate is a beautiful thing. What was wrong with me? And yes I am currently constipated.

    7. Crack: ed.com

    07: Head. 06: Crackhead.

    where’s 8?

    9. Love: Ice-cream

    07: Boat. 06: Everyone.

    I went from loving everyone to loving ice-cream. Something happened.

    10. War: must occur for peace to have meaning

    07: Ships/Chess. 06: Iraq.

    I read that off somewhere.

    11. Car: -wash

    Chevy convertible. Rolls Royce

    Less material, more hygienic.

    12. Gas Prices: Kuwait

    Soaring. Government

    Still a political issue for me.

    13. Halloween: Miley Cyrus

    Pumpkins. Stupid Vampire in Japanese Vid.

    14. Bon Jovi: Blonde

    GAY. A woman with lots of sandy, curly hair.

    15. Religion: Mine

    Moss colored stones? A big bronzed cross.

    SEE, LESS MATERIAL/VISUAL.

    16. MySpace: Lame

    Pretentious emos. Some website.

    Always, always.

    17. Worst fear: Lizards

    Lizards. Stupid lizards.

    ALWAYS, ALWAYS.

    18. Marriage: Maybe

    Sex. Commitment.

    19. Fashion: Faux

    Shows. The Devil wears Prada/Chao Ah Bengs.

    20. Brunettes: Banana

    Sex. Chao Tar Bananas.

    I really don’t know brunettes remind me of bananas, I really don’t. And the sex is probably because I was a hormonal pubescent.

    21. MISSING: Milk cartons

    Milk Cartons. The Show.

    22. Work: Load

    Overtime & Schedules. Homework.

    23. Past time: Forever

    Bored. Bored.

    I love this. Somehow I’ve grown out of being bored I treasure every damn second I have to do things I like.

    24. Football: Mud

    Grass. Football shaped cake with green coconut grass.

    Probably that stint in soccer end ’10 made me realize it’s a lot more mud than grass. I have a permanent mud-ball stain on my shirt to prove it.

    25. One night stand: Flunitrazepam

    Sex. Cathleen Wong. (WTH!?)

    26. Pet Peeve: Slow

    Peeves in Harry Potter. Peeves the Poltergeist.

    This means I need to re-watch/read HP more often.

    27. Pixie Stix: Sour

    Undersized penises. Condoms.

    I’m glad I’ve gone down the conservative path.

    28. Vanilla Ice Cream: ICE-CREAM.

    Cum. White albino wheat grass.

    Again, I’m glad my very disturbingly sexed up 07 self was tamed.

    29. MISSING: (again? and 8.)

    The Show. What the hell?

    30. High School: Never Ends. I’ve been ruined by that damn song.

    Never Ends. Ang Moh.

    Damn song.

    31. Pyjamas: McComfyPants

    Cotton. Alibaba Alicia.

    I LOVE PYJAMAS I WILL WEAR THEM ALL DAY IF I COULD.

    32. Wood: chuckchuckifawoodchuckwouldchuckwood

    Fairies. Kenny Sia.

    33. Surfing: OH MAMA, I WANNA GO SURFIN’~

    Hot/bleach blonde/amazing abs/tanned/drenched/surfer dude on surfboard. Hot dude in blue boxers.

    I have also been listening to songs more extensively, you see. And less inclined towards hot dude on surfboards.

    34. Pictures: ofyou, picturesofme

    Cameras? Picasso.

    And the bad music too.

    35. First Love: Ice-Cream

    Cupid. Infatuation.

    And found an incredible love for food.

    March 27, 2012

  • this.

    Between completing my applications, stocking up on smart-casual (I have a pathetic range of work clothes) and paying bills on AXS machines, I started reading my archives. What the Lord of the Flies said about a brighter childhood becomes relevant. I don’t know how this hits everyone – or when, but it happened to me this morning when I was eating a Kit Kat chocolate egg my grandma got me (they discontinued Kinder Surprises, you can only get them in German markets now), somehow fully expecting to see some kind of gimmick in it, but it was empty. And just like that I realized that I’ve been watching myself and my friends grow out of childhood. I don’t mean grow up. I mean grow out of something. Yes we unanimously still hold on to those childlike activities because as a group we are afraid of becoming jaded and boring. We do dance dares, we refuse to act responsibly, we watch Hannah Montana and make loud obnoxious sounds to defy the calm, steady tones adults are expected to have. I am somewhat grateful we have all that, a reminder that we can still have fun. But it doesn’t change that we’ve grown out of things that are much more than kidult activities. I have a photo of G and C in my phone, dressed up all wacky in our St. Nicks pinafores for their little hosting gig in the Drama Studio. Every time I see that photo (and I’m usually strictly non-sentimental), I get a strange feeling of loss. I’ve watched G face things no one should face in her two years, and without having to tell each other, we know something inside her would have changed. We grow out and learn things, learn that things we’ve believed without question for nineteen straight years might not be true. Don’t allow it to break us, hold on to one another, can only get stronger, but it is true that life isn’t as pretty as we wished it’ll be. I’m not terribly upset, I can only say it’s a pity – so this is growing up (out). Growing up, I have that. I’ve formed solid world views I spent years developing, I fully understand now what it is to love a friend (to feel concern for them more than you can for yourself), I can sense the center of control extending so strongly in my mind it scares me sometimes. I’m not saying I’m brilliantly intelligent, which I kind of am, but. If there is one thing my mind does well, it’s that I can categorize, compartmentalize, merge, delete, drag-drop, basically computer-function anything that goes through it. (G says, don’t over-rationalize too much) But I can’t help it. Because I know at the end of the day my mind is the only thing I have full control over, so I can’t possibly allow it to go. Archives tells me this thread of thought begun in mid-09, that was where I started to hoard and build a command center in my brain that would be absolutely infallible. That was my first sign of growing up/out. The first fully formed thought that nothing that happens to me can ever get to me. I mean, because I’m not a Vulcan (unfortunately), I still feel of course. But it takes me maybe half a day to get over things. To think it through so thoroughly I realize there’s no point sinking into it anymore. My logic goes like this. Yes you’ve done something I cannot forgive you for, but if I let it upset me – I’m the one responsible for myself being upset. Besides, it is your brain that has incited this wrong, this fault. Yes I am disappointed in you, yes I can now see you weren’t the mature adult I’ve always seen you as, but so what. It’s such a removed thing. You’re the one doing the wrong. I have done nothing, my mind has done no wrong, tripped no wires, breached no trust. As long as my mind is intact and unblemished, I can not care. This is how scarily it works, this is growing out. She tried to appeal to me; you wouldn’t know until you’re in my situation. I told her firmly no. It hasn’t happened yet but I have complete confidence I’ll never do whatever you have done – and I’ve never believed so strongly in anything I’ve said before. That was when I knew I’m finally done forming the beliefs I’ll keep from now on. Growing out. While my Vulcan-ian brain system scares the shit out of me, I’ve decided – whatever I cannot feel for myself, I do it for my friends. In a way, this has already been true for a while though I’ve never consciously registered it. How do you worry for yourself when you know whatever happens you’ll be fine? That’s needless worry. But I have no control over my friends and how they take things. I have influence yes, but because I’m not them I’ll always be uncertain of how things can go wrong for them. ‘Just tell yourself to stop thinking about it,’ ‘Don’t let whatever he says affect you at all,’ ‘Try to see it from this vantage point’, and they say yes I know I know, but I can’t. And when I so desperately want them to be able to, so they can be alright, I know it’s not something I can do for them.

    There’s a lake where all things lost go and you have to dive in so deep that you feel like you’re almost crushed before you find it, hand it over to the friends you love and watch them put it on and they smile like they did five years ago and you feel like there’s nothing in the world that can take you away from this happiness.

    March 25, 2012

  • And it goes on and on

    So recently I’ve been going on about either books or just straight off the tangent. Was planning to go into Franny and Zooey but I thought I’d save it for after Rei does one on Catcher.

    In an attempt to fulfill the self-indulgence quota of online journaling, and to introduce some form of cosmos (Greek: order) (ah, words) into this space, let’s do one of those primary school favorites!

    1. Are you in a job that you truly enjoy?

    Starting next week at Resorts World and I’ll probably like it (a lot more than office jobs, I’m sure). I’ll much prefer unemployment though.

    2. If you could do any job in the world what would it be?

    Food reviewer and part-time mattress tester. Although I still stick by my dream of unemployment.

    3. If you could be a character in a novel who would you be?

    Charlie of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. For obvious reasons. Realistically though I’m much more of an Augustus Gloop (fat boy who can’t stop eating) or Veruca (SQUIRREL I WANT SQUIRREL!) Salt.

    On a deeper level, because Charlie has almost no characterization besides being incredibly obedient. I can never imagine casting myself as someone else, so with someone character-less it’ll just be like possessing his body. And his chocolate paradise.

    4. When it comes to spending time with those you love, do you think it should be about quality or quantity?

    Quality. Always quality. I suck at the quantity part but I’m very fussy about quality.

    5. Is there a job/career you wanted but realized you couldn’t possibly do for one reason or another?

    Is this meme deliberately jabbing at my hopeless wishes to be unemployed forever? Because unemployed forever is what I wish for but can’t. Bastard meme.

    6. If you could live anywhere in the world or out of this world where would you live?

    Suspended in the middle of the universe, wherever that is. The point of singularity where everything else expands outwards from (although.. this may not actually be the case. Okay cosmo-geekery for later).

    7. Which skill would you like to learn?

    To play the saxophone. To master the dead languages.

    8. What made you laugh today?

    HAHA Theron: “IT FUCKING MEANS LITTLE MOON… I need to lie down.”

    9. If there was one charity you could give a huge contribution to, which charity would it be and why?

    SPCA. I don’t know I feel more for animals than anything else. Maybe because it’s so hard for them to articulate their suffering and they are so clueless.

    10. What are your views on the smoking ban in public places?

    AQ question [8m]
    I don’t really care. Unless they smoke near my hair.

    11. Why do you blog?

    It just happened and I haven’t stopped since. Seven years.

    12. Do you have a favorite author?

    Amelié Nothomb, bitches.

    13. Can you play any musical instruments?

    The recorder, the tambourine and the uke. I’m planning to learn the Jew’s Harp next.

    14. What would your ideal car be?

    A Volkswagen with a really sick audio system.

    15. Describe yourself in one short sentence.

    Are you kidding me.

    16. What do you look for in a spouse/other half?

    Intelligence.

    17. Worst meal you’ve had?

    WASABI ICE CREAM FOREVER. Celine Ong.

    18. What do you do to relax in the evening?

    Some after-meal dessert.

    19. Do you get along with your siblings?

    Considering the years I’ve subjected her to psychological experiments and torture, we’re alright

    25. Do you you have any regrets?

    Yes like anyone else, but I actively make sure I don’t do anything I’ll regret, and I’m good at justifying my decisions/getting over things.

    26. Put your iTunes on shuffle and list the first 6 songs.

    – wannapunch!, Shuta Hasunuma
    – Academia…, Sia
    – what the world will never take, Hillsong
    – If you were an Alien, The Brunettes
    – Tahquamenon Falls, Sufjan Stevens
    – Title and Registration, Deathcab

    27. If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

    Those I really want to are fictional, unfortunately, or dead. Maybe Stalin.

    28. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

    ‘run after him, shouting, “Dear Little Beggar, Dear Little Beggar!”‘

    29. What do you think about most?

    Seriously? Food.

    30. What does your latest text message from someone else say?

    Nat: Just walked past some h&m adverts. Seem like they advertising boho eh

    31. Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

    Used to without but now with. Just not.. everything.

    32. What’s your strangest talent?

    If I rely directly on instincts, I can predict time to the exact minute. And this is after a few hours without checking the clock.

    I believe that everyone has this ability actually if they trust their instincts enough. It’s like how you’ll set the alarm to 7 and wake at 6.59pm. Despite relativity and different experiences of the same time period, our biological clocks have gone through time for so many years it’s impossible not to be incredibly attuned to it.

    33. Women…. (finish the sentence); Men…. (finish the sentence)

    Women are humans; men are too. Attempts at psychologically dividing them are illusory and arbitrary.

    34. Ever had a poem or song written about you?

    Yes. I was traumatized.

    35. When is the last time you played the air guitar?

    I’m guessing with the mugs when we reach that embarrassing point of non-alcoholic drunken chaos.

    36. Do you have any strange phobias?

    I’m equal parts fascinated and terrified by aliens.

    37. Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

    Ew no, I don’t even stick my finger up there. It is truly horrific.

    Celine on the other hand, stuck earphones up hers and amplified music through her mouth.

    38. What’s your religion?

    Christian.

    39. If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

    EATING. Why my life like that. Or doing social inappropriate things.

    40. Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

    In front of digital, behind film.

    41. Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

    Starfucker, but many others come close.

    42. What was the last lie you told?

    Z: “You’re getting prettier and prettier!”
    Me: “No la, no la.”

    43. Do you believe in karma?

    I have serious doubts about criminal justice, still can’t fully understand divine justice, and have even more trouble trusting karma.

    44. What does your URL mean?

    Rictusempra. The Perpetual Tickling Spell, as in the Harry Potter series.

    45. What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

    Pride; everything else.
    swidt.

    46. Who is your celebrity crush?

    Matthew Gray Gubler I guess? I’m not a very celebrity crush type person.

    47. Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

    No because that’s sexual harassment. Why I think that would stop me I don’t know.

    48. How do you vent your anger?

    I’m really lame. I just get slightly quieter and not show anything. Then I’ll cry when no one is around. Seldom though.

    OR. As Cleo likes to remind me, what I shared during CME in primary school:
    “I was so angry I knocked over the fan!”
    Teacher: “Then what did you do after that?”
    “I picked it up.”

    50. Do you have a collection of anything?

    I used to collect Pokemon cards, batteries (before Arthur Weasley made it cool) and watches.

    51. Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

    If I’m wearing pants, video. I gesticulate and emote a lot even on the phone and without an audience that’s a phenomenal waste of energy.

    52. In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

    Respect, trust and genuine concern. Oh and fun.

    53. How did/could someone win your heart?

    Impress me deep enough which is not very easy because I am deceivingly brilliant.

    54. In your world, what brings on more creativity?

    Integration. Of everything. Science, arts, ideas, people, nature. Creativity is how much your mind can merge varied or even divisive topics.

    55. What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

    Taking Drama in St. Nicks.

    56. Why did you break up with your last ex?

    I’m not good at showing people how much I like them.

    57. What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

    “They are lucky to have her up there.”

    58. What is your current desktop picture?

    Minimalist Pokemon. Currently Cyndaquil.

    59. If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

    I wouldn’t touch the damn button. Also, is this what’s behind Spontaneous Combustion? Scientists have been on this for decades.

    60. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by WEEPING ANGELS. The Weeping Angles aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What would you do?

    The Time Lord has taught me to locate the one without another angel staring at it and stare back and NOT BLINK.

    Although if you want to get Doctor Who technical, this situation is highly implausible.

    61. You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

    Change color of things. I don’t trust myself with serious extraterrestrial powers. I’ll either kill myself or everyone else.

    62. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

    I’m good at blocking out or getting over things that upset me, especially if they were a past event. So if you ask me now there’s really nothing (I can remember).

    63. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. (let’s say that you are both single and available) Who might it be?

    All the musicians I like are sexually unappealing.

    Pete Quaife of the Kinks? He is also dead.

    Damn I love talking about myself.

    March 23, 2012

  • TO NAP.

    1.

    recently i read two book consecutively and by pure coincidence they echoed each other, at least in a skeletal manner.

    Amélie Nothomb’s Book of Proper Names and Anais Nin’s Children of the Albatross. at this juncture i need to confess that i’m now and always biased towards Nothomb. besides her ridiculous endings which are surreal to the point of being sublime, i can hold nothing against her. she’s refined but wild, seldom predictable and never pretentious. i don’t think i knew how to read before i read Nothomb. but that’s just me.

    both were of orphaned dancers centering their life around ballet. Nothomb’s pursuing perfection in dance and the body, Nin’s similarly exploring the beauty of dance.

    the Book of Proper Names was a Mobius strip of un-orientable surrealism – you start out thinking okay, i’ve got this, but it unravels somewhere (you don’t know where) and you find that you’ve exited reality so quietly you’re standing in exactly the same place but everything’s been warped to be completely unrecognizable. Nin’s on the other hand, starts with a creeping sense of unknowing but settles into what i call Coffeehouse Romance.

    i dread Coffeehouse Romance in every book/film/cartoon/show i encounter. basically it is anything romantic that is pretty. i don’t know why it scares me so much, but love should be ugly and confusing and completely flawed and wrong because that’s the only way i can believe it. this is not me being disillusioned. Coffeehouse Romance has this insidious way of making me highly conscious of myself holding a book and reading words that are putting images in my mind. it reminds me that i’m reading which is probably the worst case of book-cock-block there is to reading.

    probably the best book you can read that balances absolute strangeness with sheer truthfulness in relationships is Shopgirl. it’s highly cognitive, and this analysis is at work even at the novella’s most compact mass of weepy. read if only for Ray Porter’s dissection of how to romance and Jeremy’s intellectual breakthrough which was frankly incredibly sexy and makes me very hopeful about life and men.

    the Book of Proper Names, fortunately, had a very hideous streak of romance that was completely weird – and came up only towards the end with a brilliant little front piece about it. like i told Celine, Nothomb’s endings are a shitload of crap. deliberately and rightly so. endings are probably the least important part of the book, and it is probably the least important thing about ourselves too. look at it this way – when it ends, you’ll have to no way to cerebral-ize, celebrate, or mope about it. in a way: it doesn’t matter at all. by extension – book endings don’t matter.

    also. i always feel uneasy with endings. because from there there a million billion permutations of how it will. even if it ends in the protagonist’s death, what happens to everyone else? an ending that very explicitly feels like it says: ‘yes. it ends here. it is happy/sad and how it will be forever’, i feel cheated. of course there’s no way around this catch-22 so i live with all the endings i read and get blown away by crazy ones like Nothomb. maybe i should try sci-fi with gimmicky time-travelling. also i suck at writing endings.

    2.

    i stopped caring much about University. or at least not as much as people want me to. it’s not that i’ve gone complacent or nonchalant about education, but these few months made me realize how minimally school affects what i know.

    i get excited thinking about re-entering a place where i’d be given topics to study and where i’d get to learn, but then i thought that right before JC as well. in a way it’s my own fault. i constantly compartmentalize ‘learning’ from ‘school-studying’. the only real way of learning is to build them neuron links – where you actually become more intelligent and shit. somehow i’ve stubbornly offered only the most shallow information-storing, copy-pasting part of my mind to school. we like to think that the education system is flawed and all – which partly yes because it’s time constraint practically forces us to offer only that shallow brain bit (most efficient in the short-run), but it’s about how much i wanted to give as well i guess.

    also i have a serious thing about competition (I AM MORTALLY AFRAID OF IT) and i almost never want proper help from people. in J1 a teacher had me aside because she noticed that i seemed averse to asking for help from teachers. and i’ve known this about myself all along – i study best alone and in fact, i learn best when i do everything myself. by everything i mean picking what i want to learn, researching for information on my own, and self-evaluating. (that is probably most of my friends too.) this also means i am academically anti-social. competition paralyses me into wanting to give up and i’d actually much prefer if lessons go like: ‘ok go home and learn about the Cold War by yourself good bye.’ and then also i am incredibly adhd and distracted during everything except lit lectures.

    in a very strange, warped way – the better and more effective my teachers are, the less likely i might actually perform.

    that’s basically the summary of my schooling life from p1 – j2.

    the only reason why i’ve not failed immensely in school is because nearing major exams (and when you’re near death you get that whole gungho, take the plunge shit)  a part of me goes – dammit i don’t care already just do anything i want to do. and i’d basically do everything i’m not supposed to do and throw away a worrying amount of notes i’ve been hoarding and sieve out the essential parts and sleep A LOT and watch A LOT of TV (which i maintain is the only way to regulate brain activity). and somehow these techniques always work out right for me. but i don’t want last-ditch successes all the time.

    i really, really want to have a stretch of school life where i actually start out right – meaning no one’s telling me how to do it or giving me resources that distract me from my own strangeling learning patterns. so while i’m excited about entering Uni, i’ve pretty much stopped caring which course i’m taking or where i’m going. because i realized it doesn’t matter. wherever you go you’re just learning the same thing. TO THINK. i just want someone to bark at me to learn something and i’ll head off on my own to be some kind of self-built supergenius.

    3.

    have you watched The General?

    you haven’t. go watch it.

    March 19, 2012

  • linguin-ists.

    the lack of gratification from my Magikarp-splashed (i.e “NOTHING HAPPENED”) haircut had me re-dye-ing, just to fill the dearth that is expectation of change.

    the results.

    i know right.

    so yesterday i had five un-related people asking me: “YOU VERY FREE AH?”/”ARE YOU VERY BORED?”

    yes. yes i am.

    but it is also out of this boredom that genius is nurtured. let me show you.

    it started when he was raisin hell
    all throughout that one Sundae;
    we’ve beancurd since then, and after awhile
    we went on our seperate wheys.

    “things will get butter from here”, they said
    “you have to let the mango.”
    still, i mustard-mit his absence bread
    a sweet-and-sour sorrow.

    i know, i know. bow down to me if you wish.

     

    thing is, everyone assumes i’m bored. and in a way i am – because i have nothing i NEED to do (besides uni apps which, yknw, i pretend do not exist).

    but there’s so much i WANT to do, it’s like i don’t have enough time every day to finish them all. there’s never a moment where i go: damn i wish i had something to do. there’s just always something to keep my occupied.

    …like Hitler genealogy. which (frankly) is what i would much rather do than attend a party.

    this is also why i think i’m destined to live as an unemployed friendless gypsy hobo.

    AND AND AND!

    HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEBBIE! YOU ARE FINALLY NINE(TEEN)!

    ~

    :-)

    March 13, 2012

  • azn hair being azn & kuo pao kun

    today, finally, after nightmares (serious) and consults and rumination, i decided to get a hair cut. this is the first time since a year ago. and hair cuts have a nasty way of not ending well for me unless i do it myself.

    Image

    as you can tell, it is like when i get Magikarp to use splash.

    nothing happened.

    i’m not sure whether to feel relief, or annoyed that i spent dessert money to look absolutely no different. and no, this is not an excuse to post up boob shots. there’s nothing much to show.

    Gloria is working at The Theatre Practice, and was a guide for TTP’s Kuo Pao Kun Festival. So the bunch of us went to watch last week.

    we did KPK’s Silly Little Girl & the Funny Old Tree (fondly initialized to SLGFOT) for our O Level Drama piece, and hell that process makes up about half of our mugger’s mine of inside jokes. (i inexplicably typed indian jokes)

    our group decided to do site-specific, at the outdoors playground/gym of the SN basketball courtyard, with a huge tree and all.

    we spent most of our time sleeping on the grass/monkey bars like hobokids actually, because the group was basically the chillest (read: lazy) people of the class put together (Lorraine, Xin, Rei and Cat), and also because it being in the courtyard meant no Mr Wong supervision/pressure from other groups.

    so it was month long drowsy afternoons under the sun feeding the mosquitoes and occasional bursts of energy which we invested in — puddling. i actually have photographic evidence:

    YES. complete with bad haircuts and white sports shoes (besides those, we’re pretty much the same – t-shirts and shorts for rehearsals and being-hyper/not-doing-work). couldn’t find the one where we were actually on the site though. :-(

    we finished about ten scenes in the last week, then retreated back to lethargy and dozed under the sun right before the filming, to the utter horror of the other groups as they spied on us from the MPR level. GOOD TIMES, M’FRIENDS. <3

    so i was pretty excited when i got to watch a professional site-specific inspired by KPK.

    it was at the Stamford Arts Center (or rather, TAMFORD Arts Center. it’s over a 100 years old and the S fell off). beautiful place, really. old, rustic, quaint structure, and it has a very occident-orient hybrid feel to it.

    we were brought all over the area and i loved that (mostly because i hate sitting still) – the roof, corridors, rooms, backyards.

    i liked the spatial-visual/audio usage: sometimes we got to watch a scene taking place in a balcony some floors down, with the cast’s voices echoing all over the building. sometimes we looked up and a someone’s just there teetering on the building’s beam. sometimes they mingled right among us.

    it was inevitable that transitions (moving around) and the dispersed space took away some of the performance impact though. i could tell they were strong actors, but it’s impractical to expect that full-on energy and focus you get from the other contained-space theater spaces. given that constraint, it was otherwise great.

    sublime moments used the element of surprise. a suitcase front-center, a scene going on behind. when the scene behind finishes, someone stretches out of the case. man dreaming of giving birth had his water bag burst. you get sent into a live demonstration of prostitution in a brothel with low-q music in the background. i liked the surreal.

    but my favorites were the unplanned and spontaneous. one part had a character straddling a gate, yelling absurd questions out of the SAC compound a la KPK style: “YOU MEI YOU KAN JIAN DA NIAO?”. a random man on a bike actually yelled back an answer “DA NIAO MEI YOU, XIAO NIAO JIU YOU!”, it was just brilliant.

    also the SAC cat roving around (it was very tame and had a strange majestic air about it, like it knew it was the actual boss of the area). it got caught right at the start of a scene: red lights on, incense, a door with steps leading down to the corridor where we were at, and there standing a woman about to begin her monologue – and the cat just there at the steps. it was so simple and meaningless and random, but it was the image that stuck with me after the play.

    oh and YES, all in Chinese! the language may be slightly hard to follow, but my advice is to just stop trying to follow and go along with whatever you get – it’s enough. just listen to intonation, the pitch, the tone, they way they are said.

    the site-specific work is over but there’s a whole series of other shows by TTP and they should be checked out, regardless of Chinese Language proficiency level.

    March 11, 2012

  • reads

    i confess i’ve been a slubberdegullion (yes, i just had to use an recently learnt archaic word because i am annoying) with fiction recently. after a month of heavy non-fic and a few carelessly chosen novels, there came an insane need for good fiction. therefore: prowling about dusty second-hand bookstores.

    it’s quite a good haul.. but i was very select with what i got, after disappointing half-reads that are strewn all over the house at this very moment. i hate not finishing what i start out reading.. but i hate having to trudge through bad fiction more than, so.

    ANYWAY.

    three picks in the fiction haul.

    i read a chunk of this in the book store and got a terrible neck ache. slick narrative (which i slipped in so easily i forgot to stop). there were none of those bright moments of word/idea lust YET, i can’t be too quick in my judgement. i suspect it will go into post-colonialism (dislike) and hit a dry patch near middle. then again, i have a penchant for African waif-child with special abilities after Life of Pi so maybe this won’t disappoint.

    by God, HER FEARFUL SYMMETRY. guilt wants me to tell you i picked this one out purely because its title is so sublime. so on the cover we have the Hilton sisters decked out in the hot threads of Christmas ’99. despite that, instincts tell me it’ll be good. twins unnaturally codependent (i love weird twin stories), neighbor with OCD, gothic house and the cemetery (symmetry.. geddit?). i’m very excited about this. although i wish i got the plain cover instead of the Christmas Hilton ’99 one for selfish aesthetic reasons.

    oh right, and yes. same author as The Time Traveler’s Wife which made me cry, but this one seems stranger and less ideal a la Nicholas Sparks (meh) – YAY. next on the to-get list: Three Incestuous Sisters by her, illustrated!

    Real to reel by Lidia Yuknavitch

    i’m not sure what this is yet, read the first page and immediately knew i had to have it. it’s in a multiple column format, each a tiny excerpt that seemed more like a poem-monologue hybrid. it’s strangely reminiscent of those monologues we did back in Sec 4, and they are really, really pretty. i felt, slightly, that it’s so good i need to stop for a while thing. flipped through a little and there’s something about Keanu Reeves, and it uses a lot of gimmicks a la Jonathan Safran Foer.. i’m betting it’s good but not consistently. we’ll see.

    and also got The Lovely Bones which i’ve read half of in the school library once so thought i’d finish it.

    okay that’s all. non-fiction includes Douglas Adam’s really old works, some Mao Ze Dong nonsense (this bookstore is dedicated to Mao, i swear. this woman came in complaining about being sold over-priced Mao propaganda paintings and wanted a refund [yes i was eavesdropping]. apparently she paid a thousand for three pieces. the hell, woman!?) history nonsense that i probably will never read, economics nonsense that looks interesting but i probably will never read because it reminds me of my ungotten A, a Stephen Fry collection of his nonsense, and one about crime.

    although nothing will beat John E. Douglas’ works on profiling (HIS WORKS ARE SO ELUSIVE. only ever available in reference libraries and pop-up heartland book carts). the only one i’ve got from him is Obsession, which i’ve read twice over and also referenced for my..

    (okay this is where it gets freaky)

    …notes on rapist. yeah, okay. i’m trying to keep records of rapists under the four major rapist-types (as propounded by Douglas). so far i’ve categorized the types and their victimology, personality, modus operandi and motive, but haven’t been weird/determined/free enough to catalogue known offenders. also, if i did – my web history will likely lead to my arrest on grounds of potential sex crime.

    …potential sex criminal AND possible attempts to overthrow the incumbent cabinet to establish a dictatorship, because of my one-evening madness where i charted out Hitler’s genealogy as far back as autobiographies/the net would allow. it’s nothing that we don’t already know, but Hitler is so full of incest. as was his best buddy Nicholas II of Russia, a fellow anti-Semite. and look where it landed them – art-school rejection angst and suicide for one, an always bleeding son and Rasputin for another (well at least they got to be a Disney movie trolol).

    INCEST AND JEW-HATING AIN’T GOOD, PEOPLE.

    OH AND ALSO – would you guys be interested in buying metal Pokemon gym badge (Indigo League [Kanto region]) pins if i got them produced? how much are you willing to pay (single/full set)? this is the rough draft – it will be way more symmetrical and with more accurate/vibrant colors. wqingtan@gmail.com.

    March 10, 2012

  • there is no such thing as

    – overpriced ice cream.

    because that connotes it’s worth does not level or surpass it’s price.

    worth is what you expect the commodity to give you – in this case pleasure (i mean – c’mon. ice cream, people.) ICE CREAM (except in the case of a foul tasting shitpile of Wasabi ice cream Celine forced me to buy [$3!]) HAS NEVER LET ME DOWN. the pleasure i derive from ice cream is roughly equivalent to $9.75/reasonably sized scoop sans topping/other wonderful edible accessories. and since ice cream in Singapore is mostly below that, i’ve always been eating cheap ice-cream. YES, hotdamn.

    i just really want ice cream waffles now, so.

    and yes i have been eating ice cream every day. without waffles.

    there was Soft serve in plastic cups, mini-Magnums on stick, Venezia on cones, Baskin-Robbins in recyclables, Haagen-Dazs in tubs. BUT WAFFLES. WAFFLES. the ultimate combination.

    yeah ok.

    so if you’re one of those people, you’re here to check for mentions of my results. unfortunately i don’t and won’t post them up in full, but here are some tantalizing hints you nosy thing:

    1. i’m grateful for them, because they make the cut for the few courses i’ve had in mind all along. all local.

    2. they’re not fantastic though. not straight As if that’s what you’re thinking about.

    3. they were better than i expected. although my expectations were warped after the nightmare i had of getting three Cs, one A, a B and a couple Us. it was very strange.

    4. in fact i’m happy for everything except Econs. i really, really wanted that A. not for Lit, not for History, (and we can skip Math) but Econs. and after prelims i thought i could. i hate it when people get upset over a decent grade, but now i sort of-ish get why they feel that.

    5. thank you God. no, really. not good enough to worry about the insane range of options, not bad enough to be limited in any way.

    also i found that i don’t care much about grades as grades. it’s more of where i can go from here. so anyway, i’ll be going around to all University food places for taste tests.. i’ll have a good time with the one in town.

    if i had no filial duties or expectations to fulfill, i will. WILL. drop school now, rent a caravan and travel everywhere doing just enough freelance to feed myself. this is a completely true story. but, you know. life.

    oh! starting work at RWS in a few, with Rei and Celine. free entry to USS, wootz. kindly be torn up with jealousy.

    March 3, 2012

  • Transience.

    So. We did it.

    Everything is still incredibly surreal.

    From three days to show with all our barang, to backstage, to right now.

    WE DID IT, GUYS.

    Where do I even start?

    Some of us have known each other since we were 7, most since we were 13. Have gone through Drama classes for four years together, if not at least watched each other grow in our performances.
    Had dreams like any other group of friends – ambitious ones: “Let’s put up a play! A musical! Self-directed! Self-written!” Did I believe we’ll actually do it one day? I did. Did I expect it to be anything like this? No.

    I’m sorry if at any point I get over indulgent with self-lauding, but right now, i’m just incredibly proud of us all.

    To Gloria and Cleo, for their insane courage and amazing ideals. Without which this play would either a) not have taken place or b) taken place in a void deck. For their leadership and vision and sometimes unbearable workouts.

    To Naddy, whom half of us only just met a couple months ago but now love so incredibly much. Thank you for being so strong – physically, emotionally, holding the (often crazyass and uncontrollable) group together with your calm and your insight.

    To Celine, for your broken tooth and fractured foot, but also for bringing what is an important sense of realness into the play.

    To Xinyi, our baby – director turned actor for your ability to be carried around and manipulated like a rag doll. Also for your house, your food, your witty asides.

    To Becky, for being such a powerful performer (and I don’t think you even realize how much so).

    To Cathleen, Rei-En and Dhimas – the best three-man crew anyone can ask for: for their nimble fingers and fleet feet, and basically doing everything for us.

    And to me, for being a bright spark of brilliance as always.

    How many teenagers (and thank God, this is my last year as a -teen) can say they self-devised and performed in a play they can truly call their own? Every scene is so much a product of everyone’s that when someone asks, Oh, who came up with this? I truly cannot answer them. It’s that extreme sense of accomplishment, of having DONE something you’re always always be proud of, and it being fully yours – some people spend their lives waiting for this. We’re very lucky.

    Better yet, how many of us can say we’ve done this not just alone – but with people you have already known and loved for years? And who share your passion strongly, and are capable and driven enough to take action? We’re lucky also because we have each other.

    People. People. We put up a show. In a real theater. Left to our own devices entirely.

    None of us are trained dancers, or have had much experience with physical theater. But we did it.

    Two sold-out shows.

    Happy audience.

    Happy us.

    Two months. (And now it’s over. The withdrawal symptoms will be terrifying.)

    I’ll briefly describe our rehearsal process right up to the play, with lots of people to thanks throughout!

    For this we have our producers G and Cleo to thank – they organized all the logistics before roping us in (a cast of seven: G, Cleo, Celine, Me, Becky, Cathleen, Naddy. And Xin as our director). About mid-December we met up to discuss, it’s still crazy thinking back. At Pastamania where we were literally directionless, had no idea what we’d be putting up.)

    Our time at Hong Wen School’s dance studio (courtesy of Xinyi’s VP mom THANK YOU SO MUCH). In the beginning we were all track pants and seriousness, but later it degenerated to (honestly) pajamas and slippers. Hours and hours we spent in there devising, scraping, experimenting.

    Xinyi was roped in after (and we all became directors), but Cathleen unfortunately had golf commitments and dropped out (but came often to shower us with food). Later on we also bumped into the Goodman Arts Center (with a FRIDGE – we were ecstatic).

    The play went through so many stages, and had grown so much in just a month.

    Come to think of it, some may see these past two months as tough. Rehearsals every other day for long hours, and rehearsals are non stop experimenting and practicing (which means we are constantly moving – by that I mean running, jumping, lifting). But I don’t think I’ve ever felt grudging or reluctant. Sure, there’s always that few seconds where you wake up at 8am and think “What the hell. I could have been sleeping.” But once we’re in it, it’s actually… fun.

    It helps that we’ve been friends for awhile.

    All the inside jokes, all the falling on the ground laughing until we’ve exhausted ourselves, the hobo-ing on the ground eating tuna crackers, appreciating each other’s ideas and that exhilaration where together we find a sequence which works. And of course our neh neh exercises involving lots of HTHT and tears (and fries. and farts).

    It wasn’t without obstacles though.

    Towards the last week (where we had one entire scene un-finished.. YES. scary), things happened. We were over-budget (by quite a bit) for unexpected costs and ticket sales were slow for 3pm (which meant more losses). To be frank I’m quite the worriers so I internally panicked about all the money and was thinking “Why the hell are we doing this WE ARE UNPAID UNEMPLOYED STARVING ARTISTS NOW. IN DEBT.” For this, we have people to thank, and I cannot stop thanking them.

    Most of all – the St. Nicholas community. Six of us were from SNGS, and we’ve always felt that whatever we are capable of now and who we are comes mostly from our time in St. Nicks. And we trusted that St. Nicks will be there for us when we needed them. It’s just a SN thing. We were not let down – in fact the response was astounding. We sent an email to the SN alumni describing our position, and in no time and all, many SN Jiejies had raised funds for us (from their own pockets) to partly sponsor our play. It’s with utmost willingness, without any doubt or expectation of returns, just with that distinctive St. Nicholas spirit to instinctively help each other.

    The response we got from our donations jar and the spike in ticket sales after we sought help from friends (3PM SOLD OUT TOO), we credit wholly to the audience. Thanks to you guys we are NOT IN DEBT!

    And then there was the problem of cast. Celine’s tooth got chipped for one of our later rehearsals during a particularly bad fall, and there was the fear of her leaving. A week before show. Imagine the angst. After we have calmed down (from bubble tea and stress-laughter and good news, tragedy struck again (the next day), where Celine slipped after rehearsals and apparently fractured her foot. Thank God it was a false report and it was just a tissue tear.

    We also have to thank God, because I truly believe He helped us through all our obstacles. As a cast we were all pretty strong in our faith, and had prayed and prayed for everything that had gone wrong – and in the end everything was smoothed out for us in ways that’s nothing less of a miracle.

    Bump in was surreal. The last time I had performed at the Black Box (with fancy bulb mirrors and dressing rooms and sign-in tags) was under Temple, where we were masked crocodile cheerleaders and part of an ensemble for a piece much greater than ourselves. This time, the play was ours. We were it.

    Thank you G’s mom for the fantastic food and G’s uncle for the brillz photos (G BETTER UPLOAD SOON) throughout tech-run and recording.

    AND THEN IT WAS SHOW DAY.

    We met early at Xin’s house in varying shades of lethargy actually. Again I’m thankful for the dynamics of our friendship, because it calmed me down like nothing else. I KNEW we’ll always have each other’s back and until then we had our usual mocking thing going on to bring me back to the familiar. Make-up, taxi.

    Stand-by. Warm-ups.

    Neh neh exercises.
    (One particularly got to me. I had trouble dealing with understanding loneliness to a deeper extent. The exercise required us to think of a moment where you felt a very real human connection. To hold on to it, want it forever. Naturally I thought of the Mugs, where we just loll around and be completely ourselves. Then G says, imagine you never, in your whole life, experienced this. How would life be for you. That was the part that broke me down really bad.)

    So and then.

    Show.

    It’s a 50 minutes play but it feels like 10 when you’re doing it, seriously. Maybe because there is no backstage and you’re literally performing every freaking single second so there’s no time to stop and think: HELL. THIS IS IT.

    The 3pm crowd was great in that they really GAVE energy. They were very tense (“Cannot breathe.”) in a good way and responded amazingly. 8pm crowd had many, many crying – that one was slightly more heartfelt than intense energy.

    While some of us were concerned more with what important theater veteran guests thought about it, I was way more worried about whether my friends would enjoy it. My perspective is that we’re doing a show not only for ourselves, but to give the audience (my friends and family) a message in a way that’s extraordinary.

    8pm for me had the greatest impact. Maybe because it was the last show, maybe because we’ve rid of nervous energy at the matinee, maybe because we had good feedback from theater people and kept in mind the minute details that called for a more nuanced performance.

    The craziest thing is this: we actually had a few technical screw ups – basically sequences we’ve drilled for ages. Strangely, I’m happy they happened. The group dynamics was so strong, so focused, we picked ourselves up immediately and convincingly, no one could tell. I felt that made me grow so much more as a performer than a thoroughly perfect run could have.

    The audience were too nice, really.

    Even the ones we thought would be critical thought it was “damn good”. Friends I didn’t think would appreciate it, did. We had constructive feedback from professionals about theater techniques of course, which I learnt a lot from. Maybe they were being nice because after all we’re a fresh new group of young people, but they gave a lot more compliments than we deserve.

    My greatest fear was that people wouldn’t understand or enjoy it because it’s slightly less explicit (thus less accessible), but I under estimated the audience – they didn’t need to fully understand to enjoy it, they just needed to feel. Understanding comes later. In fact, by making it less explicit, many had original interpretations that applied to them personally, which probably makes it more relate-able than text-based. You can say we aimed to incite feelings/thoughts (viscerally), not to entertain.

    Every time an audience tells me they could relate, they could feel, or that something made them cry (8pm had lots, for some reason), it makes me feel like everything, EVERYTHING is so worth it. THAT’S what I’ve been performing for.

    My parents/relatives: “Now we know why you lost weight! Cause it’s like exercise the whole time! Climb here run there!” Which is their way of saying they liked it and that my time away from home was worth it.

    Probably the most unexpected but common comment we’ve got from many, both professional and not: They want to see another show by us. Nad’s friend: “Please don’t let Pedestrian Productions die.” We were not planning to have another (didn’t even know if we could survive this one), so this came as quite a surprise.

    Back in the dressing room Gee asked us seriously, Are you guys happy just letting this end here?

    It was a unanimous no.

    So, friends, we’ll see you again in the future. Maybe when we’re 60 and Celine with dentures and osteoporosis. But we’ll be there, and when we are please come back and show us the same support you have this time round.

    To do something you love so much, with people you love so much. And for others to love the product so much (ok or at least not hate it).

    I’m blessed.

    February 12, 2012

  • the one where i talk about stuff and how i’m always lost

    YES. i have been trying to post. the past three hundred in my wordpress account are drafts, i just couldn’t get myself to complete them. (usually this means i have a life, as i am always very eager to reiterate.)

    also i have lost all ability to write linearly. have been glossing over this with lists (see: past few posts) – an ill-disguised attempt to seem coherent and logical. i fail. this wouldn’t go on for long, i promise. i’ve sustained this place for seven years so it’s another three to hit a nice number. OCD asserts that i’ll not stop till 2016. so anyway, sporadic thoughts that are too long for twitter.

    1.

    rehearsals, rehearsals.

    it’s been going pretty well actually, until last week where we stagnated slightly (slightly!). and then DUMDUMDUM tragedy struck: one of us fell while doing circus stunts and broke half her front tooth. if you know most of us you’d guess by now that it’s Celine. you’re right! so anyway, we were really lucky and Celine got fillings done and was dandy enough to go for rehearsals the very next day.

    this very next day i mentioned? well yeah. someone fractured her foot. so by now you’re probably reorganizing other cast members in order of accident-proneness. save it, it was Celine again. YES, FOOL. it wasn’t even for rehearsals: i was waltzing with my bag across the corridor and she thought mimicry was witty. nein, she slipped on a puddle and fell. and you thought that only happened in cartoons (and you wouldn’t believe how incredibly fast i typed that last sentence wow?).

    praise the Lord though, she’s fine (despite fracture scare, etc.)

    2.

    SAFRA for Beni and my birthday.

    this year the plan was to kidnap (or abduct now that we’re no longer kids), blindfold, and somehow ferry Benita and I to SAFRA. SAFRA, by the way, a multi-storey hugeass jungle gym for all ages.. although mostly populated by kids and their atrophied parents. AND NOW US.

    surprise of the day is: we didn’t get a single parental complain.

    so we did the hugeass slides and screamed like babies and played hide and seek. AND THEN THE REAL FUN BEGAN: while hiding, Cel and I wandered into a whole column which Xaver and Amelia (sibling duo of everything Caucasian and adorable) had claimed as their dominion. we got them to be our lookouts against the other catchers. being politically incorrect, i kept yelling at them to find the big Chinese things and keep them as Asian slaves.

    SO THEY DID.

    but seriously, those kids were amazing. SAFRA wouldn’t have been half as fun without them. Amelia climbed over everyone and will grow up to be a diva.. who climbs around everyone. Xaver, on the other hand – is like Eminem but a lot less annoying. and also he loves shouting and fighting which is just hot.

    Xaver’s rap: ‘i.. wenttothestore to buy some peanutbutter but they had NO peanutbutter so i wenttothestore and bought some JAMandBUTTER and i had it with toast and itwasgood.. OOHYEAH!’ meanwhile, Amelia just belly flops on everyone with complete confidence that someone would catch her and also tried to lick all of us (in a cute way).

    after a couple hours of play, they got really high. and when kids get high.. Xaver went insanely aggressive and started to banish everyone out of his base and ordering everyone to salute him while shouting I HATE YOU!!! Amelia meanwhile started shooting the foam balls all around yelling BOOBS! BOOBS! (not instigated by any of us, swear).

    they calmed down, being the great kids they are. Xaver went to us all charming and ang moh and said ‘anyway.. everything i said just now. i didn’t mean it.’ (WE DIED. stupid ang moh charm lol.)

    before they went home, both Amelia and Xaver went to everyone THREE TIMES. one round of hugs, one round of kisses, and then they went around KISSING OUR HANDS. like we were freaking ladies in 18th century England. seriously, those kids.

    and it was Amelia’s birthday the next day, so she very gleefully made all of us hold hands in a circle to sing a birthday song. so we skipped around her while she DANCED LIKE A TOTAL DIVA.

    i know it’s slightly dumb to say this, but i really really miss them. i felt like i was five and had to part with friends i made throughout the day. why is it so easy to make friends as kids. ..well.. anyway.

    …i’m actually kinda upset now thinking those two.

    3.

    i shall master this. will. for Brutal Demon Sex Maniacs, our band of ocarinas, maracas, ukes, and possibly a jew’s harp if we can find it.

    4.

    Firefly. is an amazing show.

    5.

    rush hour MRT poles are like pinoy portkeys, i thought.

    then was struck by how good a simile that actually is. since they all hang on for dear life while waiting to actually get somewhere.

    and if you don’t know what portkeys are, you probably don’t know what rictusempra is either. Google, or perhaps: http://www.amazon.com/Harry-Potter-Hardcover-Boxed-Set/dp/0545044251

    6.

    finished Kirino’s Out. again, the brilliantly crafted characters. again, the nothing much ending – which i point out not as a downside, more of a Kirino trademark (his books aren’t about the ending. it’s about the characters throughout the book). i prefer Grotesque, though.

    and also the Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. basically, three-hundred-thirty-five pages about an obese colored geek who seeks love and fears dying a virgin – and how he eventually (SPOILERS!) lost his virginity. and promptly died thereafter. it’s not bad, actually. i found his geekiness under explored though. the author kept mixing up nerd with otaku and tended to name drop geektastic terms, only ever going into detail with Lord of the Rings.

    also the whole book made me find Oscar incredibly un-shaggable, they didn’t even attempt to make him neater before (SPOILERS!) he got some ass.

    it’s good because of the narrative, which works.

    OHAI. so now we get to the best part: AMELIE NOTHOMB. remember how i was all over Hygiene and the Assassin? while yeah i wanted to finish everything she’s ever written and i’ve just started on my second: Loving Sabotage. usually second books of first books which were great usually disappoint. THANK GOD, NOT FOR THE FRENCH, NO PEOPLE, NO. Nothomb was so, so skilled, i actually had to dramatically close the page and regulate my breathing because i was hyperventilating from good writing.

    what can i say about her writing? she’s bold. arrogant. and anything but pretentious. she says things you wouldn’t have thought, not even subconsciously, and brings them up with such dry wit you find yourself reeling.

    I AM VERY, VERY EXCITED.

    7.

    i have been walking.. kind of a lot.

    firstly, public transport is shit. secondly, ADULT FARE – i didn’t get the extent of it despite the Twitter bitching until a couple of weeks later when my fully topped up thirty dollar card ran out. thirdly, i’ve always loved walking. i just never really had the luxury of time to.

    so now, with time, youth, willingness, and a legitimate reason, i’m walking EVERYWHERE. alright not everywhere, but everywhere unless it’s really dumb and would take my half the day.

    i’m not sure why i like walking so much – maybe it’s self-induced since my inner compass is absolute crap and i end up having to walk thrice the usual distance (lost). when i was young and homework-less i used to walk home from St. Nicks, which is about twenty odd stops. and i also love circling around Holland V estates like a creeper.

    recently i’ve taken to walking to the MRT. if i’ve got to Serangoon and have the time, i’d walk there. that’s like two MRT stops. i’m badass. strangely i’m very fast. sometimes i don’t even notice how much i’ve walked and i’m home. it’s just a thing.

    8.

    WHICH MAKES ME THINK. MY SENSE OF DIRECTION. it really IS all out shit.

    SO IT’S TIME FOR A LIST!

    list! list! list!

    Five Strangest Incidents My Crap Direction Sense Had Landed Me In

    The Crane Miscalculation

    this one remains, forever, a Mugger’s classic.

    it was Shereen’s and Becky’s birthday surprise, so we all went early to Gloria’s to prepare. when Shereen arrived, i was sent to escort her back to G’s (pretending i’ve only just reached too) (WHY ME? i don’t know why me).

    i thought i was really smart too, when i figured the only way i’ll get back alive was if i took note of landmarks. the most obvious and all-encompassing thing being this huge crane (construction going on). so fetch Shereen, etc. all was going well and i was for once aware of directions and was LEADING HER SOMEWHERE.

    which turned out to be wrongwhere. because, Weiqing, CRANES. MOVE. (albeit slowly and sneakily.)

    Shereen was the one who at last navigated the way to her surprise party, so once again i fail at life. this may also be more telling of my stupidity than lack of compass. ah, well.

    The Night-goggles Disorientation

    i’ve been having tuition there for awhile. it’s a few minutes walk from a train station, and while i always walk to get there, my mom would pick me up from. once my mom couldn’t make it. the combined force of it being an inverse path AND it being 9pm instead of 7pm was so daunting, i panicked and got lost. yes. I GOT LOST. A ROUTE I TAKE EVERY WEEK. because it was a different sky-color and the other way around.

    as you can see, it’s not that my sense of direction sucks, it just does not exist. i get to places through conditioning.

    The Epic Mall Escapade

    i could NEVER find my way to Xin’s house alone despite leeching around there all the time (much to the wrath/bemusement/annoyance of the rest). so at long last i got myself orientated to the direction (with lots of help from Prata Place, about that – later). AND THEN THEY HAD TO BUILD THE MALL. actually, when they were building,  it was fine. i was confident, i was alright, finally i could get to Xin’s house without having to call everyone up.

    AND THEN. it finished building and Nex was there in all it’s heartland glory – all silver and shiny and obnoxiously large and disorientating.

    so disorientating in fact, that i lost whatever conditioning or inner compass i’ve been carefully nurturing. had to call Xin up for directions after wandering about like a mentally-challenged cat yanked away from it’s mother. and got yelled at “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NEX CONFUSES YOU? IT HAS BEEN BUILDING THERE FOR THE PAST MONTHS. YOU FOOL.”

    The Canteen Confusion

    i may have mentioned that St. Nicks (AMK compound) is so big, i’ve got lost in it.

    maybe you thought i meant that as a hyperbole. i didn’t. by lost i mean, yes. regularly, i hit dead-ends and find myself in strange roof exits and have to retrace my steps all the way back to where i started and pretend i didn’t need to go wherever i needed to go.

    the staff room and the MPRs were the most confusing, because the staff room is literally in the heart of a maze (everywhere is a maze to me), while the extension block is just a freaking megabot-transformers-third-arm of a maze i could not figure out. i guess you can forgive me for those.

    but the canteen? yes, the canteen. where we go every. freaking. day.

    one thing i rely on very much for direction (also why my sense of- has always been crippled) is company. i just let everyone lead me around without noticing the route. so you can lure me down a street in Ulu Pandan (speaking off, i once got so lost i ended up in Ulu Pandan. for serious.) to sell me as shoe factory labour in Nicaragua and i would gladly follow. anyway: everyday, the happy St Nicks friends and i would go canteen together to eat eat.

    so what happens when i’m to go to the canteen alone? lose my way. like a loser. haha. haha.

    i actually ended up in the top floor of the Primary Block (St. Nicholas compound used by both secondary and primary), it was incredibly weird and i’ve never been there before. it was like Harry with the Room of Requirement, except i didn’t need anything there. and i tried my very best to walk all the way back to my classroom.

    also had a hard time finding excuses as to why i didn’t get all the food i was supposed to get for my classmates. “i couldn’t find the canteen.” now you know.

    The Misplaced Food-place

    i have ONE redeeming quality when it comes to directions:

    if this said route has many food places of my immediate gastronomical interest, it is a route easily navigated.

    often, it is ‘Old Chang Kee should be on my left, that’s good… right turn at Frolick, uh huh. now face Starbucks and continue until Sizzler’s is in view.’ this is probably the only reason why i even get ANYWHERE. except, of course, food places sometimes change.

    one of the most mind-raping routes i can almost never grasp despite going there about twice a week in my studying days – AMK library. for some reason it’s like hell’s labyrinth and i’m destined to never get it right (even now i’m kind of just walking in a general direction to get there, i.e. closing my eyes and walking straight holding Google maps with fear and prayer).

    my aim after awhile wasn’t to find my way there, but just to be on a right enough track so i don’t end up in Bishan or Novena or something. banking on my strengths, i created a List of Food Places I Should See That Ascertains I’m On The Right Track.

    FOOD PLACES, however, LIKE CRANES, DISAPPOINT. LIKE PEOPLE, THEY CHANGE. and sneakier, even, because they change unsuspectingly when you’ve gotten yourself somewhat familiar and am starting to gather confidence from all the lost faith, dignity, and direction. it is all very upsetting.

    very upsetting.

    February 4, 2012

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