Ever get that feeling that you're writing utter rubbish in the middle of an exam? I'm glad that most of my chinese papers are over and I can now forget about speaking in mandarin because frankly my head is about to burst. On a traumatizing ride back home, I was subjected to a painful speech that Lee Hsien Long made in mandarin and it sounded remotely like a cross between German (if one could close one's ears to avoid the temporary impairments it would make) and a pig in heat. But of course, it isn't easy for someone more fluent in English to fake fluency in mandarin, and I can sympathise, for obvious reasons. I have yet to find someone who can speak English and mandarin without sounding like a cholera victim halfway through. Perhaps it can be the holy grail of the linguistic world, I don't know.
Sister's friends are over in my kitchen making their onde onde. Their giggly noisies and incessant squealing reminds one of the embarrassing sec 1 days, when wearing socks barely visible above the shoes was considered cool and everyone was spiking their hair even though it was supposed to be centre-parting-straight-cut. Gross!
Anyway she owes me $10 and I fear that I may forget her ever increasing debts one day, some day. Probably when I reach thirty, I'll suddenly remember, while staring blankly at the mirror a la Harry Whatshisname in Spiderman 2, and go berserk, wild with impatience accumulated over the years.
I hear their strange contorted noises from the kitchen as I type and I cannot help but feel a little envious of their fellowship, or something.
I hate my new blogskin but I can't seem to find a better one :(
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