needing inspiration

(Yesterday)



Since neither my parents nor grandparents were home, I had to prepare dinner for my sister and myself, which would have been fun had I only realised we were mysteriously out of aioli sooner, which would have allowed us to have dinner before 8.30. (This was because I had already prepared crudites for dipping before realising we were out of the dip.) The main deal was the tomato soup because we weren't exactly famished and dying to have dinner.

Anyway I'm really happy with how the soup's turned out so I'll share this very rough and arbitrary recipe with you (that would be extremely unhelpful if you prefer following recipes with religious word-for-word precision and use calipers to measure ingredients for size).

Ingredients: (In arbitrary units)
3 units tomatoes
2 units onions
1 unit of garlic cloves (leave unpeeled)
1.67 units ground paprika, basil, thyme and oregano (fresh, dried, whatever.)
0.01 units salt and pepper (preferably freshly ground) (to taste)
0.5 units olive oil
4 units chicken stock (you may also use water but I have this idiosyncratic repulsion towards adding water to anything I'm cooking, apart from boiling)

Pre-heat oven to 180 degrees C. You have to do this early, or face a seemingly eternal wait for the oven to heat up as your tomatoes languish in the heat and humidity.
Quarter onions and tomatoes. You will end up with chunky wedges. Place them on a baking dish with sides that can hold the juices in. Spread out onions and tomatoes on the dish. Place your unpeeled garlic cloves inside. Splash olive oil all over, trying to cover every surface with as little oil as possible. It is certain that one will fail. Do not worry too much about this. Sprinkle/scatter ground paprika, basil, thyme and oregano, and make a mental note of where you left the garlic, because you have to squeeze out the golden mush later.

Place in oven, and grill for about 30-40 minutes. The longer you grill, the more the sugars in the food caramelise, and then you get this really rich and robust flavour. (Okay, so I cheated and sprinkled some granulated sugar after 20 minutes in hope of enhancing that sweetness in such a short amount of time. But anything goes, really. There's no need to go postal over little things like that.)

Later, once you've found the courage to handle the very hot tray/dish thingy, you can start scooping out the hopefully lightly-browned tomatoes and onions. You should, at this point, realise that the garlic is still in there. At this stage, the insides would have softened and you can squeeze it out easily, much like a whitehead. If you want a chunkier soup as opposed to a smoothly pureed one which may evoke instant-soup nightmares for the very sensitive, separate some pieces of tomatoes and onion and leave aside.

Note: there may be brown bits stuck at the bottom of the pan. This is gold. Put the pan over some heat, splash some chicken stock/red wine and scrape up the brown bits. There is a more glamorous term for this, and it's called "deglazing". Add this to the rest of the ingredients.

Dump everything in a pot that's big enough for soup (so that the liquids don't bubble out when it starts simmering and boiling), and throw in your chicken stock. It should seem watery enough to worry you. This is normal. Remember to turn on the heat and simmer, half-covered, for about 15 minutes.

Once you're satisfied, puree the contents of the pot to death. (I'm kidding. You can pick your preferred consistency.) Add the other tomato and onion chunks if you did reserve any, and serve.

Randomly, I went to the living room to watch the news. I happened to catch a story about an event called "Seductive Stories at Suppertime", which was a storytelling session for adults only.

Then, on the stage, I saw the vocal coach from the Multi-Voice Magic choral speaking days of yore, where my sec 1 class was subjected to hours of torture and rehearsals that we had no interest in whatsoever. (Yes, we may have been only 13 then, but that did not imply that we had no dignity.)

And as the camera panned out, I felt my innocence cave in. (Well, not exactly.)

stand up, your father's passing

Help, I am currently suffering clutter angst and it is turning me into a neat-freak. There are snapped and broken 30 cm rulers that I will never use for graphs ever again, my sister's failed and forgotten design and technology projects, a tangle of wires—some of which, I discovered, leads to relatively obsolete equipment, and used, crumpled plastic bags strewn randomly around that are officially the bane of my existence. Clutter Angst has hit me right smack in the face again after the initial discontent felt when looking at Apartment Therapy with the annoyingly perfect slightly-messy feel of decorative clutter done "just right" and Martha Stewart-esque home organisation ideas that I will never consider because (i) few know the claustrophobic feeling of living in a small space with two guitars, (ii) I live with people still stuck in the 1940s and (iii) there are regular dust storms in my house. I could go on enumerating, but I'll have to condense my grievances into a parenthetical aside for now.

Earlier, I went to see Ruimin off at the airport. She's going to HK to study dance, and there were throngs of friends/adoring fans who went to say goodbye. I only knew about the latest flight plans yesterday while at the southern ridges walk (in the pouring rain) and it was all very sudden. I spent the night doing up a stationary set for her while half-conscious! Anyway, I'm really proud of her! I guess it's really scary to leave one's family and friends behind and be alone in a foreign land, not knowing quite sure how to speak their language fluently. But still I'm sure it's going to be a great experience and opportunity for her.

And I'm trying to save up to get an iPod nano (because the current hard drive-based iPod that I have to share with esther can't go running with me and I've been dependent on the flimsy affairs that Sony Ericsson calls handphone headsets), but financial black holes keep syphoning off my funds! Hence I will NOT condescend to buy romance novels from secondhand bookstores for Zizhao because this goes against the entire notion of my dignity, and there are better things out there to read if one wants to maintain their level of English. Ha.

stars and butterflies

The holidays have started off with a bang! (This is within the same vein as Christabel's exuberance.) Teachers' Day celebration was a blast, my report book was finally not totally disappointing after the year-long drought of pleasant results, and I'm feeling so aligned with myself, for once.

Also, I received a call today! At first I thought it was Andrea because it was a private number, but when I answered, I heard a voice that did not seem familiar. It sounded as if the person on the other side was blonde with blue eyes and freckled cheeks, and I struggled to pinpoint her identity.

Then, she hinted, rather coyly, that she was overseas and this was an international call (at which point I died inside because of overseas dialing charges and the like), and she's been to the US and China. In that instant, I nearly screamed her full name in the phone out of disbelief because OMG, I SWEAR IT SOUNDED NOTHING LIKE HER and she was like hahaha and I was absolutely TAKEN ABACK. I thought someone had dialed the wrong number and was, in actuality, looking for a friend in Sierra Leone or Slovenia instead. And here I was minding my own business, only to have someone from the not-so-distant past come screaming back to you.

Oh, can you guess who? It is blindingly obvious, yet totally out of the blue.

snippet

I revisited the toa payoh polyclinic today (I last went there 10 years ago) to check my back. I think I smell like sarsi because of the sarsaparilla-scented ointment that I have to rub on the affected area. Also, I have painkillers (that I probably will not be touching unless very severely depressed), a new tongue scraper and the most delicious pack of caramel apple chips that I've had in a very long while. Shopping in pharmacies are strangely more interesting now.

They've changed a lot. The familiar latticework grills in the waiting hall are now replaced with sleek wood-and-glass paneling, and the sliding plastic signs inset in metal cases that once hung precariously on their hooks are now bigger, bolder and glossier. But before I start to sound like a piece of Unseen Prose , I must say that the people have not changed, or, if you will, seem replaced by a brand-new set of old people, languishing in their creaking wheelchairs as the wrinkles formed by their loose and hanging jowls undulate to create waves in synchrony with the movement of their wheels across the grouting in the floor.

Ugh, am so disgusted with myself. I ate like 5 tablespoons of aioli while studying in the kitchen, as if that has ever been a great idea. :(

Sit on a potato pan, Otis

I sprained my back AGAIN, TWICE. I was carrying a bench when it started to slip from my grip, and as I tried to stabilise that behemoth that it felt at that time, I ended up arching my back because I couldn't bend my knees and I ended up standing still, horrified at the pain that had come back to haunt me once more.

That was a few days ago. Today, there were these post-secondary education talks and we were made to sit in the hall with the sec 3s for 2 hours. As I wondered whether this was punishment for lackluster prelim results, my back started to act up again and now I am cringing as I type because a wrong move can send shots of pain that will spread out radially from the left side of my lower back.

Anyway I saw a tag by someone and it sent me into a laughing/gagging/choking fit. It teetered on that fine line between disgust and hilarity that paralyses people as they begin their descent into insanity and spiral into temporal madness.

Also, I made aioli.

buzzing:

1. Will be seeing off Lucas and Ruimin on two consecutive days next week! Changi airport here I come.
2. I love this wet weather because I can make myself a mug of hot vegetable soup and study in the kitchen without feeling uncomfortably warm. Also, I managed to wake up to the sound of rain hitting hardly on closed windows and shortly thereafter, experiencing the bliss of realising it's a saturday morning and I can continue sleeping in. Now all I need is a cat and a fireplace and a time machine.
3. Dad has collected the iPhone and I am currently drooling myself silly over its high-gloss and aesthetically-pleasing contours. I hate its lame-o camera, but I guess trade-offs have to be made, even though it may mean lugging around another camera or face greater discontent.
4. The olympics closing ceremony was stunning. Am starting to worry slightly about preparations for the youth olympics. Will there be as many fireworks? Will I end up parachuting off some tower to light up a torch? Will I be caught on international television wearing red face paint and then filled with remorse when the truth of that few milliseconds of fame starts sinking in? The possible scenarios are so zany and bizarre, though possible, that the reality of it all now eludes me with my currently volatile emotions in my fragile state etcetera etcetera.
5. Sakae sushi has so many new buffet options, it now confuses me.

dispatches from the daily grind

I DID get an A1 for literature *\O/*
And yes I screwed up the TKAM section and it nearly pulled me down to A2, how very most frightful. Fortunately, I did pretty okay for unseen poetry because unseen poetry is The Reason for me taking literature. (Okay, among many other things as well.)

(Here I am filled with a rush of dread and ennui because it's only tuesday and I still have, like, so many more days to go till the weekend. I am now starting to live for the weekends, that sole respite from the mechanical routine of memorising and route-learning and languishing in my tired old chair, propping myself up on my tired old table, smiling wanly and nodding faintly to reassure tired old teachers that Yes, I do hear your cries and Yes, I will be reminded for the nth time that I have to use a black or dark blue pen to do my exams, etc., etc., etc., as if their presence was enough to capture my very being in a suspended state of panic and anxiety.)

I am also currently enjoying listening to This American Life, which is a popular radio show in guess-where, via podcasts. I find it funny and sometimes find myself smiling and nodding mid-listen, as if I could relate to their topics. Is this odd?

Also today: english teacher was seriously absolutely killing with the narrative-writing comments/stand-up comedy act, our projection screen finally gave up on us, we expressed mild outrage after learning that we STILL have to return for chinese lessons despite the period being extra and how it's eating up into our lunch break, I've found a popsicle-product in 7-11 that is really really really worth my $1.20, and I have reconfirmed my distrust in SBS bus-timetabling during peak hours after waiting a record 20 minutes for 156 to arrive.

skittish

I'll be getting back my bio paper and lit paper 1 tomorrow. On hindsight, maybe I might not do so well for bio paper 2 and maybe I will do terribly for the TKAM question from lit paper 1 because my expectations for paper 2 were not met and I am now fretting over the quality of my essays. Worry worry worry.

Also, to add on to my anxiety, the table tennis finals are on now and I can't bear to be within earshot of the TV because the heightened anticipation and tension and excitement will kill me. This is, of course, highly uncalled for, with O levels drawing near and everything.

Will now try to quietly study for the chem quiz tomorrow and avoid splitting more infinitives in my agitated state. I think I need to invest in a good sensory deprivation chamber.

once more, with handclaps

I am not even using maths as part of my L1R5! I received my A maths papers today and my worst fears were confirmed because I was the only failure in 401, while others, in consolation, told me they didn't do very well either (mainly C5s and B4s). My chinese is better than E maths. By 2 grades. (By some freak accident, I did horribly for both Paper 1s.)

I won't be included in banding, just extra lessons with my maths teacher, where I will be distracted by his syntax errors to the point of my own eventual and inevitable frustration. I think I do better at subjects with teachers who speak well and are at least coherent, e.g. history and biology and literature. I also do better if my teacher is more dominant and resembles a nasty slave-driver, because I need a push factor to complement that pull factor which is as weak as a feeble Van der Waals force.

It's more of my own problem, I guess. But English is my L1, ergo, most important subject ever. Maths and science can go take a hike. It is such a waste that I cannot score in the two subjects that everyone gets their A1s in. Teachers tell us that it's easy to get A1 for the aforementioned subjects because everyone else screws them up anyway and the bell curve will shift in favour of us all, but sadly, perhaps I will be the one who is going to screw it all up and upset the bell curve, and then watch as people, in their euphoria, start thanking the heavens etc. when they do get an A1.

I will have to rely on the remote traces of "personal brilliance" that I have left.

Anyway, if all goes well and if I squeeze my eyes real tight and hope for miracles to happen (A1 for Lit and Bio), and if I cheat a little and include chinese, I will get a 9. But I'm doubtful of getting A1 for Bio, of all things. And I'm dangerously borderline A1 for Lit currently.

And my situational writing lately has been truly utterly sucky. Hello! I want my writing exercises back please.

the atlantic was born today and I'll tell you how

Am currently very uninspired and channelling Studious Study Freak using my body as a vessel, so if you look closely you may discover that I no longer have irises. (kidding)

Anyway, I've learnt to settle for mediocrity and accept the average, but perhaps The P won't allow it to happen. This may be due to the fact that in her eyes, I am only a statistic (that will be totally rockin' awesome for school KPIs and brighter career prospects). But it's good to move on, in a sense, because I can now occupy my time practising maths during chinese lessons, now as if of yore.

Over yakult and the olympics, my sister asked me whether I felt guilty about getting a B3 for chinese. I said no. (And was extremely offended, if I might add. Not by my sister but by you-know-what.) Evidently, P has impressed on the entire school that we are terrible, terrible individuals and deserve to be hung, drawn and quartered, or at least have our decapitated heads stuck on poles outside the G.O. to serve as a deterrence and timely reminder to the school that We Have To Study Now. Yes We Have To Study Now. Now.

There is a stabbing pain at the back of my head But I Have To Study Now.

Hey I got an A1 for comb. humans. (43+41 — I felt light-headed and floaty.) Now I Have To Study Harder. For English, I scored 27 for my descriptive essay (which was accompanied by a "28" that was scribbled-out as if to jibe at lost potential) that caused me to be berated earlier for being an evil child and refusing to conform by doing expository writing, So I'll Have To Study That More. (And that "virtuoso!" comment was a little... uh... And yes I cannot believe it came with an exclamation mark.) I do not know how to feel about paper 2.

A and E Maths was The Suckage. I am not even going to include them in my L1R5 for prelims. I failed E maths paper 1 by a mark and my A2 plummeted to C5. I failed E Maths Paper 1. This is unreal. (There is also no banding for my class. Will I be a victim of generalised brilliance taken for-granted?)

I got an A2 for chemistry which was like, my first distinction for a pure science subject, ever. I was so overwhelmed but I'll Need To Study Even Harder For This. I'll Spend My Entire Weekends On The Sciences Now Yes I'll Spend My Entire Weekends On The Sciences Now.

So hopefully I can secure a 1 for literature, then I can finally attain the lowest L1R5 score of my upper secondary career And Then See How I Can Improve Further And Then Study.

And Yes I Cannot Rely On Individual Brilliance So I've Got To Study Now.

Am totally bummed.

I scored B3 for chinese, and everyone is congratulating me but I don't feel really joyful but it's supposed to be a good thing and I am so dazed and confused and frustrated I no longer know how to feel. It's only chinese but it feels like the entire world to me right now. That and dsa, that I now have no chance of entering anymore, and geez since when was I so affected by the whole system? Am feeling dumb and no longer able to function academically. But whatever. I will emerge battle-scarred but stronger and braver etc. etc.
And I think I need a long-overdue hug right now and a cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows and don't tell me to hug myself because I have a pair of industrial standard scissors and am not afraid to use it.

!@#$%^

Happy accidents

I will now vow to only make dinner for people who can respond to their food, instead of watching them passively slurping and chewing on the victuals only to remind them firmly, making veiled references to a suppressed enragement, that I had spent the last few hours roasting eggplant and tomatoes, combining eggs and oil into mayonnaise, and tossing pasta, while everyone else was watching the olympics, and MY HOW ROBUST THE FLAVOURS ARE OH YES IT'S PROBABLY BECAUSE I'VE BEEN WATCHING THE OVEN FOR AN HOUR so why don't you take a damn sip and say something?

Will rule out "charity soup kitchen staff" from List of Potential Holiday/Gap-Year Jobs. Will also realise that career as chef will never take off unless one has kindness and patience.

Anyway, having used guesstimation and agaration throughout most of the entire process, I am happy—no, ecstatic—to report that I've made the most wonderful vegetable-based soup that I've ever had, ever. It's a roasted tomato and eggplant kinda affair. You toss them in oil, roast them and then sweat them. After that, I took out my new immersion blender and made the soup smoother but still yielding some chunkiness from the vegetables. Of course, you have to add other herbs along the way as well.

I've also made some mayonnaise, using the recipe that came with the blender, translated into all the languages of the EU. The mayonnaise was alright; you are supposed to add in your own seasonings and stuff. I added dill and wasabi, because it was supposed to go with the tonkatsu I was reheating in the oven. Washing up was terrible.

I am not free tomorrow. I have a photo shoot (those family portrait things), which people usually do after they graduate (er, I think). The last one I took was in P4 and I wore my band uniform and it would be severely humiliating for me if it was hanging on the wall right now. We are required to wear something colourful tomorrow and I am hoping that there will not be, but totally anticipating, the cheesy themes and poses that they sometimes order you to do. Like I'll probably be holding a psp and my sister, a handbag, and we'll be wearing expressions that could end the world by nuclear fallout if each frown line was a little explosion.

National Day Weekend

Video of Nigella Lawson making an ice cream cake:


I wish I had nigella for my home economics teacher!!

Anyway I watched the NDP today! I survived the remixed songs and cheesy get-ups! I like this national day weekend. It's rainy and breezy and I have the olympics to distract me and extra egg whites to make meringues out of. And perhaps I'll do some studying, on the side. I am the worst student yet; you may start scorning and shielding your children from being influenced by me now.

Go to the New Yorker fiction podcast on iTunes and get the episode "Sign Language"! I have been more than enamoured by this story and its narration since listening to it a while back, and am now ready to openly declare my undying love and commitment to this. (I am too lazy to post a link.)

Going to my sister's concert at vch now! Hope it'll be worth the hours of torment that I've endured from her practising at home.

Enjoying the silence

We took a class photograph for the yearbook today, and as we assembled under the white tents at the outdoor terrace (really, it's just a glorified rooftop spruced up with random miniature landscaping articles), it started to rain very heavily. It poured, in fact. At this inconvenience, I wondered why no one had thought of taking the photographs in the hall, a drier and much more spacious venue.

We squished ourselves into neat stepped rows, much like agricultural terracing, while pondering how we were ever going to do an informal shot when our bodies were so tightly compressed together. With what seemed like a deluge outside the tent with puddles of water rapidly pooling around our feet, threatening to ruin our futures when our children would go "Look Daddy/Mummy! You're all wet!" when peeking at yearbooks, I felt Saran-wrapped in a claustrophobic bubble designed for posterity's sake.

I can very vividly remember each class photo I've taken. There's something about the gathering of individuals and sharing a common identity that takes on the form of a common space and manifests into a moment immortalised and a memory seemingly tangible and indestructible, you know that sort of thing. Almost like an opening into a higher consciousness.

Anyway, on a less cryptic note, I'll be reading out the National Day message tomorrow! (Am lovin' the subtext.) And surprisingly, I was the last one to know. I happened to be enjoying the last few morsels of milk chocolate during recess that jeremy bought from marks & spencer when a teacher came up and called my name, and at that moment in time I realised that I was done-for and my academic life will be over etc., but he handed me this script and spoke as if assuming I was expecting this. Later on, people started telling me they had already known yesterday (probably during rehearsal or something). Hm. "First Knowing". Hmph.

But reading from a script is fun! And I can adopt the persona of the minister of education and act all higher-than-thou and have uppity pretentious elocution and enunciation! Cool.

1. The person who last tagged you is:
Angeline

2. Your relationship with him/her is:
Fellow chorister, member of CTITW, and part of the groaning chorus during literature classes when encountering youth and beauty as subject matter/themes in texts.

3. Your five impressions of him/her:
Pet person who likes rearing small animals, draconian and mercenary treasurer, person to rant and rage with, caring and grandmotherly figure, cheerleaderish (see below), and someone who will grow up to have well-behaved and disciplined children,

4. The most memorable thing he/she has done for you:
Wrote little encouragement notes during competitions that I really appreciate. Thanks Angeline!

5. The most memorable thing he/she said to you:
(it wasn't to me but I was in the presence of her rebuking of a certain someone in the choir room, ahem.)

6. If he/she becomes your lover you will:
Realise that she has high expectations and start to worry.

7. If he/she becomes your lover, one thing he/she needs to improve will be:
Has to like cats more than dogs. In fact, I will deliberately borrow other people's cats and purchase cat-related paraphernalia just to emphasise that point.

8. If he/she becomes your enemy you will:
Be sad and try to reconcile our differences in non-violent communication. (Also bearing in mind scary verbal aggression.)

9. The reason he/she becomes your enemy:
Probably due to arguing over animals.

10. The most desired thing you want to do for him/her:
To step in a time machine and relive Melizo again!

11. Your overall impression of him/her is:
Person who is strong-willed and iron-fisted but still has mercy and grace! And will definitely grow up to have well-behaved, disciplined children. Definitely.

I am teething. I have two new molars at the back of my mouth and with them, flaps of gum that have yet to be shed. I am cranky and irritable because I can't help but chew on them when eating, and it is mildly painful but extremely annoying to constantly feel as if there are pieces of flesh that are about to fall off and one wrong move could cause massive hemorrhaging and hence disaster.

Anyway, I have found a great way to eventually fall into a deep sleep. I downloaded this astrophysics video lecture on cosmic waves from itunes U and slowly fell asleep to the lulling voice of the old professor as he was giving his introduction and enumerating about SI units and other terms. And I hadn't even got to the part where he was actually TALKING about cosmic waves.

Results for science subjects will be out around this week and I know that I haven't done really terribly badly and poorly for my paper 1s, only that my scores pale in comparison to the sciencier people, and I, by a massive freak accident, scored B3 for paper 1 alone for Chemistry which is extremely worrying and somewhat upsetting. I am not digging this mediocrity or the triple science combination in any way whatsoever.

At Suki Sushi, after binging on sashimi

Yesterday, CTITW threw a farewell gathering for Lucas! (Why, the CCITW, of course.) We went to Shiyun's house to prep, we brainstormed ideas, I did some clearing up of housekeeping issues to the present (an arty scrapbook), then we had a crossfire (of poker cards) and Mingting and I finally grasped the concept of Bridge. Later on, we left to meet Lucas at Suki Sushi in Hougang Plaza for its sushi buffet. At $17.90 for students, it includes a free flow of juices and sushi. Some premium items are included too, which is perhaps the main draw for us as the promise of a free flow of sashimi and hotate made it a more attractive and economical dinner venue for cash-strapped students like us.

And, as usual, Shiyun wowed us with her amazing distensible stomach as she wolfed down more plates of sashimi and fried, impaled baby octopi and korokke than anyone else. After reaching breaking point, we had to resort to playing games to finish off the rest of the unagi sushi that was declared unworthy since there were only mere traces of unagi in the rolls. However, as if the adrenaline rush gave us slightly more room in our then-depleted appetites, the profiteroles with frozen cream inside were quickly deemed worthy of our consumption during the last few minutes of our meal after someone declared it "nice". This proclamation was then followed by snatching two plates of dessert off the conveyor belt that were completely eaten in rapid succession. In the end, we hobbled out of the restaurant bloated but content. We were in no condition to cam-whore.

And hey people, grab your photos!




And I have breathed new life into my old school shorts. Not in a literal sense, of course; it's more of a "hey I can now include it in my regular wardrobe" kind of discovery. That last picture does not do justice to the sartorial, fashion-forward merits of these bermudas! (OK maybe to a lesser extent.)

Licking beaters

I made mushroom soup using the immersion blender today! It was so convenient! Usually, I have to pour the unblended soup into the blender in annoying watery-chunky batches, which did not help with the cleaning-up at all. Now I just stick the thing in and it purees right it in my pot! While it continues to simmer! And there's no splattering even! It is so amazing and I shall make a tomato-based soup the next time I actually have inspiration to do a soup. Also, for today's soup, I grilled slivers of fresh button mushrooms with sea salt and black pepper in attempt to do a pretentious take on the truffles that people put on cream/puree/confit/reduction-of-so-and-so type soupy dishes just to be fancy-schmancy. I then added the slices on top of each bowl as a garnish, and to provide added flavour.

And I've made more cookie dough. Will bake them tomorrow morning! (there's no school!)

I have been using too many exclamation marks these few days. I don't want to come across as those irritating shouty-types who get worked up over small things and have tendencies to squeal/yell/bellow.

And if you're bored;
Net Disaster!
This is fun! You get to type in a website's URL (preferably of one you particularly dislike), and then choose your mode of destruction from the extensive list of options available! I'd recommend the vomit one. A guy walks along the webpage and vomits, but continues walking and leaves gross trails of stepped-on vomit around your target! (If you're into that sort of thing.) There are also choices like mold, dog poop, mars attacks... the Works.

Almost forgot... I have finally got my immersion blender!! *\O/*

I can now purée to my heart's delight,
with utmost diligence and trembling pride.

:D Rhyming couplet in iambic pentameter!

1. The person who last tagged you is:
Shiyun

2. Your relationship with him/her is:
Debate buddy, member of CTITW, fellow physics-hater, sharer of triple-science stream remorse

3. Your five impressions of him/her:
Has a mind of her own, might just become a career woman leaving her well-behaved husband and two well-behaved girls at home while jet-setting off to Beijing to strike a corporate deal, will be known for turning down popular guys in jc, is the voice of reason, dispenses valuable advice to peers, and has amazing time-management.

4. The most memorable thing he/she has done for you:
By helping me with the stubborn-sugar-that-will-never-dissolve-fully-in-the-whipped-cream episode. And also by being extremely patient with my selective amnesia (the juniors' cards!)

5. The most memorable thing he/she said to you:
Well, it wasn't to me, but it was hearing the magic disappearing reply for the last time in XD. (that is not a smiley!)

6. If he/she becomes your lover you will:
Anticipate harsh reprimanding for forgetting anniversaries, valentine's day etc. etc.

7. If he/she becomes your lover, one thing he/she needs to improve will be:
(See Andrea's one, har de har.)

8. If he/she becomes your enemy you will:
(Once again, see below)

9. The reason he/she becomes your enemy:
(ditto.)

10. The most desired thing you want to do for him/her:
Have a bake-off! :D

11. Your overall impression of him/her is:
Frank, but empathising and sincere nonetheless.

1. The person who last tagged you is:
Andrea

2. Your relationship with him/her is:
Best Friend!

3. Your five impressions of him/her:
Highly logical individual: might work in the EDB or the IMF, will never bake a cake unless absolutely necessary, is pragmatic but compassionate, will get married before hitting 26, and will attend class reunions faithfully till around retirement age. (Oh whoops that's more than five.) Is also loyal, charmingly surprising sometimes, and will be the kind of husband that spouse's girlfriends/bitch posse/clique would not mind having around.

4. The most memorable thing he/she has done for you:
By passing me his jacket during the morning of vj invites because I wasn't feeling so good. And also keeping me company on the phone when I was walking through Bishan Park (from some other place) in its deserted and foreboding state at 10 PM. And also randomly smsing sometimes to congratulate/encourage/cheer me. And remembering that it's a chocolate FONDANT! (off-topic: everyone initially thinks it's a chocolate fonda. What's it with "fonda"? It certainly doesn't resemble Jane Fonda in any possible way, right? So. odd.)

5. The most memorable thing he/she said to you:
Oh many things... actually, many conversations. :D

6. If he/she becomes your lover you will:
Start questioning my sanity.

7. If he/she becomes your lover, one thing he/she needs to improve will be:
I require "lovers" to be able to find Phoebe Buffay from Friends hilarious, share the same taste in music, hold a PhD in quantum mechanics, and be a professor of something obscure but brilliant-sounding. Should also hold michelin stars, and have experience in German expressionist film criticism. (this is optional)

8. If he/she becomes your enemy you will:
Be sad and try to reconcile our differences in non-violent communication.

9. The reason he/she becomes your enemy:
Because he was exposed to alien, mind-altering radiation and starts to become too bent on world-domination / making smelly vegetable sculptures / wants to hunt me down to kill me. And none of which are quite possible realities, anyway. Phew!

10. The most desired thing you want to do for him/her:
Make us some coffee so we can have decent conversation (which is such a rarity now with our busy lives in the maddening crowd!)

11. Your overall impression of him/her is:
Person who keeps calling me a fuzzy bear even though I am not. But besides that, an awesome person to talk, laugh and mope with.

12. How you think people around you will feel about you:
That I am strangely quiet and sometimes lively. I also appear deep in thought when in actuality I am merely stoning. I also can never make up my mind when presented with too many alluring choices.

13. Some characteristics you love about yourself are:
I am patient, understanding, and have the heart to correct the grammar mistakes in the questions before posting. :)

14. On the contrary, the characteristics you hate about yourself:
I spout silly and embarrassing things sometimes in an effort to appear friendly.

15. The most ideal person you wanna be:
Hmm. Hard to say now. But I don't mind being myself, as per normal.

16. For people who care and like you, say something to them:
I'm a terrible friend sometimes and I can make incredibly mean and insensitive remarks, but I hope that if you've been offended, you'll understand that this is only in jest of our human condition and sometimes meant to be taken with a pinch of salt. And I love spending time with you.

17. Pass on this quiz to 10 people whose feelings about you you wished you knew. Those who have done the quiz before may ignore this, but for those have are named and have not, it is my sincerest wish that you take some time off to complete it:
(Hey actually I've done this part for close to like, a few hundred thousand times now and you've also probably done this for me enough times to drive you nuts, so I'm going to fill in other people! [Not that I don't care about what you think about me or anything...])

1. A, the boy who cried because he couldn't sit with me, supposedly his only friend, during tuition when we were in kindergarten
2. The checkout counter staff at 7-11 who sees me nearly every morning when I go in to buy chocolate.
3. Phoebe Buffay (had I met her in real life)
4. My neighbour whom I barely talk to, but often notice carrying a tin of coffee walking placidly underneath the block
5. Toshiki, my Japanese buddy from 2007!
6. My principal
7. The cat that I occasionally visit and play with 2 blocks away
8. Gore Vidal
9. My primary 1 form teacher
10. God

- FIN - (I still have to do one more for Shiyun!)

Full-circle! Full-circle!

I've just come back from Drama Night! (And I could count the number of sec 4s who attended WITH HALF MY LEFT HAND ALONE :O, not counting the drama seniors.) To put it somewhat briefly, they did a play about some toys in a shop that were preparing for their annual mid-year sale parade, only to discover the ritual dashed when piece by piece, they unravel the mysteries surrounding the box that lands into the store, and soon after, their eventual fates. I think there's an element of the macabre in it that underpins the whimsy that is created by the toy store setting, in that the damning hints that the more "informed", as it were, group of toys uncover give some of them a chance to peer into their grisly fates, which is that of their own condemnation and discard. Also of interest is the leitmotif of the toys swinging their arms and giving a cheesy grin whenever they mention the toy store. This becomes and indicator of their pride in the toy store when dissent and ideological differences split them up.

There's a strong sense of moralism on the surface, since the toys split regularly on opposing viewpoints, some choosing to lead a carefree, vain and ignorant existence, living only to celebrate their looks and fame, while others choose to go against the laws and draconian rule of "the minister" of Toysville society, intent on finding out the truth for themselves than to be content with the explanations that The Minister has to offer. (Or rather, imposes on them.) A range of characters is sketched, such as those that worry excessively about the Unknown, and those that are strongly non-conformist and individualistic, almost to the point of being anarchist.

Yet, the underlying theme that emerges is that of Truth, and also, the entire notion of the suppression of truth to maintain social order — sort of a political allusion to terrorism issues of the status quo.

OKAY THIS IS NO LONGER BRIEF SO I SHALL STOP HERE.

Oh but the ending was good. There was plenty of tension and pathos thrown in, and when the soundtrack playing out the destruction of the toy store played out and the lights faded to black, the ones who escaped questioned their futures, and those who returned and perished with stubborn loved ones gave rise to the question of whether fate is fair and just, and whether it was worth the escape. (Ya know, that sort of thing.)

I remember the first time I went for a performance in secondary school. It was Romeo and Juliet, and I was sec 1 then. It was staged in the hall. As I was looking back, I realised that things had indeed come full-circle again for me. I have just watched my last performance as a secondary school student, and I am back in the hall once again, taking photos, laughing with friends, complaining about the person in front blocking my view, walking back in the night, coughing due to the smoke. It feels strange to be graduating so soon!

And I will be deliberately vague, and say that I do not understand the youth of today and their strange social norms. (!)

Dulce et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! -- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under I green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, --
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Wilfred Owen 1893-1918

He was only 25 when he died!
But I am not seeing the link to chlorine gas, ahem.
(Okay, other "green light", "green sea" and "gas". Green light and green sea could be symbolism, rather than something taken literally, right? Huh? Huh?)

Day 10 of Prelim Exams

Prelims are over! :( Nothing to look forward to now — except the release of O level Chinese results!!! :O :O :O

And EVERYONE has watched the Dark Knight now. I have no time to watch it anymore anyway. But I don't want to catch it on DVD! Movies on DVD just aren't as magical as watching them in the cinema. I think the whole movie-theatre experience amplifies the emotional intensity and tension of the brooding characters, and the (usually) brilliant sound system often adds an aural element that enhances the drama unfolding in front of us. I'm a borderline audiophile, yeah!

I think I screwed up my chem!! It was only outside the exam hall that it dawned on me that many of my answers were wrong and I COULD have known the correct ones! The last question was so unconventional — we were given a war poem, and asked to infer what gas the poem was talking about, and then select one of the 4 given options which states the correct method to test for that gas. How was I supposed to know it was chlorine?! It could have been mustard gas, or ammonia, or tear gas or sarin — the point is, we had to infer from the poem which did not create a level playing field for other students who have never taken literature nor are well-versed in chemical warfare and hence this question is unfair I demand my marks back I want an explanation we can't be thrown multi-disciplinary stuff in our current fragile state etc. etc. etc. (OK, I thought it was a very fun and original question anyway.)

Biology was fun, as always. However, I have confirmed that I have already lost two marks which is such a bummer. The thing about biology is that you can spend less than a minute per question, because the only calculations I had to do for the entire thing was to calculate surface area-to-volume ratios. So when I had finished, and realized I still had 35 minutes left, I checked my paper TO DEATH and spotted so many careless mistakes it was insane. (It was only when I reclined in my seat as the papers were being collected that it dawned on me that one of my answers should have been something else and by then, it was already too late to change it. Gah.)




Interesting: Can you guess who the person in the photo is? I couldn't. I'll bake a cookie for anyone who can. :D