okay here's the customary post about the aceh earthquakes and resulting tsunamis.

first of all, do not mistake what i am about to write as callousness or insensitivity, because it is most certainly is not. i am reacting exactly the same way as i did towards the iraq beheadings; it is horrid and terrible, and i feel near-distraught about the rising death tolls but that doesn't mean i want my face rubbed in with the videos of endless destruction and other such depressing news.

it's become a warped and sick freakshow the way people are glued to updates of the destruction and horror. of course, we're concerned and worried too, but i think there must be another factor that causes people to have a twisted fascination with the scenes of complete ruination.

i think the victims of the disaster deserve more respect and dignity than being made into a horror video/graphic montage for the fascination of others.

its terrible to see the twisted bodies among the rubble, and worse of all, the faces of the distraught and distressed. i feel guilty because i'm here, safe and unbruised. and that's possibly one of the reasons why i cannot bear to watch. i visited my doctor ex-neighbours today, they were taking turns to fly off to northern malaysia to lend a hand. they say the Red Cross is asking for money donations, and also need lots of fresh water, clothes and blankets. so yeah, keep a look out for donation drives, Mercy Relief included. at least i think its a better way to react than just sitting in front of the tv going oh gawd oh gawd.

sorry if i sound preachy.

all right all right i refoooose to think about not-so-cheery things. i will remain upbeat, even if it means repressing an actual part of me because it is just the plain truth that i consist of a good portion of melancholy. but NO, i will push it down and keep it down with my new chunky brown 'leather' sneakers! i shall overcome any growing pooey-ness with the point of a pointy object, in this case, my mother's rather nice mechanical pencil. that she will never give me, darn!

like the 406 class chalet.

i am occupying my time with marinade recipe ideas, and by the roses of the spring by truth honour and everything (heheh), i swear that it will TASTE good. call out the butter herbs honey and soy sauce! ..and nadya, you are coming over on the 30th to help me clean the chicken.

i was watching tv the other day and was piqued, then horrified when i heard Beck's everybody's gotta learn sometime from the Eternal Sunshine OST in an advertisment filled with painfully melodramatic faux crying, advertizing for the upcoming season of american idol. it was so cheesy so cringey and oh just so bad - its sacrilege! *snarls*

i am bored. i can't wait for school to start. i've already ironed several sets of my school uniform, got my shoes, found my socks, and have already written a list of what to pack into my schoolbag because to actually pack it in now might uh, actually push it too far ahead into Geek-dom. when i was younger, i got reaaally excited about school, and used to pack my bag 2 weeks before school started and oh gosh it was (is) so fun! the fresh new smell of schoolbooks, fresh new stationery neatly organized into the bag in an order that only makes sense to my neurotic inclinations. i would even hang up my entire uniform on a single hanger in the order that i put it on; the the outer-most layer would be the underwear, the blouse, the pinafore, then the belt, and then the socks. it was a whole ritual that i thoroughly thoroughly enjoyed.

of course, now i have no time to indulge in this idiosyncrasy because the last days of the holiday are spent panicking (note panicking, not doing) over holiday homework. but now, yes i can revert back to my usual over-excited over school Inner Geek - hahahahahaha. i am actually genuinely happy.

first week would be only orientation though.

which brings me back to four years back during my secondary 1 orientation. maybe you noticed my slight unenthusiasm for the orientation thingamajig; this was exactly how i felt back then too. i remember the councillors talking to us ickle things during the orientation, briefing us about all the fun games and awesome activities we had in store, and i raised my hand and asked,

when do the lessons start?

and they just stared at me like the huge uber-geek that i was.

huh. and i was still disappointed when the lessons started slooow with all those stupid introductions and all i wanted to do was to start LEARNING. this might turn out to be a rather embarrassing entry, now the whole world shall know that beneath all my apparent laziness, i am an Enthusiatic Student! what ho, engulf me with books of Knowledge, quench my thirst with the fountain of Learning and all the other schooling cliches~

like omg, bring it on!

i am sick of the rather gloom and doom entries i have been posting. there is no reason for them because, well, what's there to be gloomy and doomy about anyway? things are going Good, not perfect but enough.

so, no more.

first thing to be happy about is that my appeal into cjc has gone through. before i yabber on though, i must must must remember to thank nadalala because it was her who dragged me down to cj for the appeal because i did not want to bother then. without her um, dragging, i might have missed out from the very appealing(!) new art programme there - so THANK YOU. also, thanks to charmaine and matthew who accompanied me to the very unexpected interview with the principal.

i'm listening to the spice girls' first album! i still like it! oh i hail thee perfectly engineered music for mass consumption - they just don't do it as well anymore. like c'mon, no one else can compare to the global phenomenon of success-without-much-talent of the spice girls. not even britney can compare, she who had to resort to slut sex appeal (that word again!) and who's kitsch was just not as entertaining as the spice girls' girrrrrrrrrl poweR! i salute them. admit it, they rocked, and still do rock my socks.

and nowadays, they just don't make mass consumption music the way they used to anymore pish-posh! or maybe the reason for my disdain is probably because the new airwave hoggers are those crap pseudo-punk and hip-hop crappers(!).





this is a very short entry. hmm. what else do i have to say filler filler come on think of something remotely interesting to commit on this temporary web space.

all right let's talk about movies.

AFI MOVIES OF THE YEAR-OFFICIAL SELECTIONS

the aviator
collateral
ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND
friday night lights.
THE INCREDIBLES
kinsey
maria full of grace
million dollar baby
sideways
SPIDER-MAN 2

in caps, the ones i have watched and in bold, the only one out of the three that i think ought to win. come on! S2 and the incredibles, you have got to be kidding me. maybe i have not heard the latest news bulletin about hollywood not making enough movies, so they have to pick filler movies to complete the list of 10. spidey2 was no big deal, ALSO, toby maguire looked fugly in the sequel i do not know why.

thinking about it now, i think there are 2 american movies missing from that list; namely, finding nemo and mean girls. okay okay due to my not very dependable memory, finding nemo was not from 2004 but mean girls should be there! verily, it is the definitive adolescent social dissection movie ever. for managing to do that, while keeping it hilarious and chock full of memorable lines and characters, i think it ought to be up there. pooey.

so here's my list of my favourite movies.

1. eternal sunshine of the spotless mind
2. fight club
3. moulin rouge
4. saw
5. mean girls
6. finding nemo
7. devdas
8. girl, interrupted
9. a.i
10. love, actually

omg omg their showing the *nsync celebrity concernt on the disney channel - teenybopper regression! see, before i turned to credible music around late sec 2, i was a shameless boyband/mainstream sugar junkie fan. oh the shaaame the shaaaame! but still, even now, i like their music. like mentioned earlier, i dont like the new junk, but i still hold my old junk very dearly. my spice girls oldbritney backstreet boys nsync wonderful wonderful memories. okay okay im going to go watch now hahahahaha buh-byeeeee

my name is izyanti asaari, and i was a boyband junkie.

"Understanding is a luxury you should not expect."

found this in a blog. possibly, Lesson No. 1 for life post-secondary school.

i miss secondary school. nothing profound to say today; except that maybe despite my efforts to make sure that i did not take anything for granted during my time in there (especially the last 2 years, of course), i think i still managed to. little things that i only just realized may not be so easily found out There.

i hate the idea of going around and people telling me that i'm not good enough. and i hate the idea that all this while, i've been saying im an under-achiever (AND tried to improve the situation) but maybe, this is what i am anyhoo.

but whatever. i am NOT going to be all gloom and doom. in the situation that i do end up in the jc that i've been posted too for pae, i will be all right. i will make the best of things, cue cake's 'i will survive'! things will be okay, i will handle things gaaaaaaah bring it on!!

at least, that what i keep telling myself haha. maybe it's better to be delusioned after all, if that's the only way to keep plodding on. it seems to be quite a good plan.

next thing on the list: rent furry easter bunny suit, wear it and run down orchard road past all the santas and going AHAHAHAHAHAHA - waaaait, who messed up my calander?? i think it will hilarious, and i need a dosage of hilarity to keep myself sane.

editted:

wow i really do seem to be blogging a lot recently.

at first i wanted to blog about my sister. am worried about her, she's almost constantly cranky and sulky, and well, she's pissing kinda everyone at home. i suppose it's just a phase, but nevertheless it could be a long-term phase HAH. and what if she ends up in a crap school? this is not good.

i dunno. i talked it out with my mum, so maybe things will work out. anyhoo my conscience is niggling that i should not be as they say, airing our dirty laundry.

maybe it is paranoid as well, but i do worry that maybe she might not respect me; she might now, but what about later when she's older and angstier? i don't know how i will be able to you know, steer her in the right direction if she does not respect me. it seems quite comical now, hilarious even, but an hour ago, i hypothesized that maybe she might not respect me because *drumroll* i do not/have not had a boyfriend. IT IS POSSIBLE. she could think me pathetic, especially when she goes to secondary school and is surrounded by people with thriving lovelives. she will think i am not 'cool'. not only is this intensely embarassing, it brings up the whole she-wont-listen-to-me issue! and honestly, pushing her to 'Uncool' things like listening to the parents, stopping the angst will really not help.

augh. in print, this whole thing sounds silly and blown out of proportion, but it's very real. i am worried. i don't want her to end up in monkey crap.

on another note, and another person, i worry that this person does not need me anymore. i try to be there for her, but it's not like she opens up much on this matter to me. i sense something wrong, but i can't do anything. i can't, and i don't know how to. so she gets the advice from someone else. i suppose she feels more natural asking her, and it makes sense . like hey, what do i know about relantionships right? all i do is give hazy advice based on my equally hazy hypothesis based on theories observation and yes, magazine articles. i have no /actual/ experience. not thinking about the whole pathetic-ness of my situation, it also feels horrid. even when i do give advice, it feels empty hollow and false because despite everything, i know nothing! its nuts i know, but i do feel like a silly naive child at times like these.

i know nothing.

also, i realized i've never actually been presented with a situation that tested my self-control. there have always been external factors, mainly parental - omg no i can't i'll be grounded oh naaah can't i gotta go home, or i'll get a massive yelling etc. never have i been faced with an oppurtunity for me to go all right. this is where i must stop, and will stop. and i suppose only then when i learn this will i have properly grown up.

maybe, i've been failing all this while, and have not noticed it.

so many things to worry about. the annoying thing of course, is the fact that it is needless. self-inflicted! really, how silly can you get? very, apparently. i worry about flailing friendships, my sister, PAE results, PAE itself, the fact that i'm doing nothing, my Os papers, the handwriting that was on it, whether i was detailed enough during the bio, how many careless mistakes did i do for e.math, omg omfg english, augh augh my lit essays.

i feel thoroughly stupid because of the above.

a short moment of bitterness, that spurred a moment of bitchiness last night (yes so i ended up sleeping at 0330):

Izyanti,
This NOT the type of essay you were taught to write! It is more like a dialogue, but not even a normal dialogue.

What kind of story is it, anyway??

How can you simply try out a new and untested text type in an exam?!!
You're simply commiting academic suicide!

And look at your handwriting! How can you expect any examiner to be able to read it without squinting his eyes and tearing his hair off in frustration?! I'm truly saddend by what you have done.

- S.Lee













i hated her so much. this was what she wrote at the bottom of my Cartoons exponential thing (see archives). if i ever ever publish a book, i'm dedicating it to her with an exact quote of the above. i hate her i hate her.

soon, one day, i will get over this. one day, i will choose to get over it. possibly i might forgive her. for now though, you're getting coal in your saggy pantyhose suzie!

i am supposed to be sleeping now, because i will be waking up fairly early tomorrow. but i am not. why.

you know how people have a bedtime glass of milk or a read before they sleep, well for me it is mindless activities like blog-hopping or playing that good old archaic game - tetris. and sometimes in the process of such mindless activities, said mind gets bored and starts a-wandering. it rewinds the happenings of the day, scrutinizing every inane detail and conversation. like how chilly it was when i was in the comaparatively looong bus ride, and how wonderful it was to be back out in the sun when i finally got to my stop. and the shophouses i passed, possibly one of my favourite singaporean architectural works. and the slight nausea i felt because i was reading. and the thankfully short msn conversation i had with a friend who possibly has a completely dead personality. maybe it is just me, maybe we do not click as they say. maybe HE thinks that I'M the boring dead fish, but i just think he has no sense of humour whatsoever and has a one-dimensional perception of the world.

also, i remember the parents convincing me to go for this three day motivational seminar organized by some religious uh, organization. the fact that it was religious-y (i think) does not make me as wary as the fact that it will be in malay (i think). but the whole pointy point here is that it is THREE days. listen, i have THINGS to do in three days! they may think that all i do is aimless wandering and pondering in my room and sporadic jaunts out with friends but they are WRONG. i am *melodrama* an artist! i am working here - what you see as stoning slacking and daydreaming is in fact, me pleading for the muses to possess me! oh these artless creatures, they will nevah understand me! i am a poor misunderstood artist!

whine whine sob sob.

but, the truth is, im kinda intimidated by the length of it. in a sense, it's a commitment. three days, you know. what if i hate it, and i'll still have to come back for another miserable two days? i've never been for prolonged misery. cut it short and brutally, i say! i suppose there is a good chance that i might actually enjoy it. so i might actually go, since despite my insistence that i have Important Things To Do, this is in fact, a falsehood.

i do not.

oh i digress. the reason why i brought up the topic of this seminar thing was because of what my dad said to me when i went --ehhhhh i dowana go-- (yes very sad i know. i am not very eloquent when being pressured by parents). he told me there was going to be wonderful speakers, they'll be giving speeches about teenage responsibity and leadership and don't you always talk about being a leader

waaaaaaaait, hold on there, said i.

for these past adolescent years, i have never said anything about wanting to be a leader of any sort. those inclinations died when i left primary school and i realized with much then-bitterness that Authoritian Figures did not like me. fine so there were those little group projects when the *melodrama again* the heavy heavy burden of omg that R-word, yes responsibilty fell on to me. but that hardly matters i think, because the majority of my efforts flopped pathetically. no do not deny this, i remember everything with much cringiness.

and so, despite (still) thinking that i would make an awesome president of the student's council, prior experience and general social labelling, i am quite willing to accept that me, leader - ehh. not going to happen.

well, at least in secondary school. which i have since left, a few weeks ago. jc/poly, who knows? it might be in the cards. why why why do i keep setting myself up for situations for me to crash and burn?? i do not know, colour me stubborn.

maybe it's overly cynical, but i think i have lost a good portion of my faith in journalism. this is a big deal because the idea of journalism as a career has ALWAYS lurked around since i was a kid. that is how much journalism has played a part in my life.

journalism is about conveying the truth isn't it, and me, being terribly idealistic and stubbornly
so - i can't accept the paradox of censorship and commercialism co-habiting with journalism. it's not only not right, it cancels out everything! how can they peacefully exist, when the concepts will inevitably interfere?

i cannot see how a journalist can make a cuttingly honest political analysis when there's censorship to consider. even the mundane things like movie reviews - notice how movies distributed by gigantahumoungous companies who have splashed out full-page ads hardly hardly ever get poor reviews? and i am still very much pissed by the co-incidental placing of the full-page Mango ad adjacent to the page 2 news of the beheading in iraq. no prizes for guessing the carefully calculated positioning and the extra money paid to get that attention-grabbing spot. maybe im just paranoid, but pbbt.

sensationalism sensationalism ignore the black and white you can only see in grey write what the paying readers want to hear write what the government tells you to shut up shut up red tape write what we tell you to write well here i am back in secondary school with suzanna lee.

when i told mother dearest about my *drum roll* disillusionment, she said i was being narrow-minded because she thought i was talking only about being a normal print journalist. but oh no mother, i corrected her. in fact, i have thought this very well out. it is one of the things that occupy my mind during Bathroom Time. i cannot be a political analyst though it is very fascinating, because i am not brilliant enough. being a mother, she of course denied my claim - said she, how do you know, you've never tried it! oh ho-hum, would you like to see 2 years worth of history essays? wait, lemme try find it in the pile of papers that i was planning to make a bonfire with.

then she said, well, what about being a magazine writer? and i choked.

to be honest, it did use to sound appealing to me. magazines here refer to women and fashion magazines.

oh whot fun! i don't buy them anymore because long ago, i realized they were telling me the same things over and over again and thank you, i've learnt why its very very important to use toner and i know how to put on my eyeliner smudged or in a dead-straight line and how to match those awful pair of white boots with virtually anything in my wardrobe! i am now all set to face the world, watch out everybody! i am armed with chockloads of trivial information!

so nowadays, i just flip through copies of 'high-fashion' mags because hurhur i like the pretty pictures. and i will stab myself in the eye before becoming a writer in one of those trashy teeny-bopper magazines like Teens. augh augh augh.

but now, i seem to be striking out more and more of my options in my List until i have nothing left and so, know not what to do with my life.

and so. i am back from my quick sojourn into our more-malay neighbour. what is there to blog about?

1. i stayed in a very pretty chalet
2. i liked it a lot because it had a 4 poster bed with a white organza canopy
3. it was nice staying in the 'stilts, on water' chalet because even though water was only sentosa-quality, the view was still pretty nice, and yay what a novelty.
4. the toilet was very gorgeous (important!). it had an open-air shower area - very liberating to be taking a shower and look up to see the sky. fortunately, all birds were toilet trained.
5. food was good.
6. sibling bonding.
7. harry potter and the chamber of secrets was playing, so i had a nice time complaining about daniel radcliffe once more.
8. met some very nice cats.
9. the beach which was otherwise mediocre, was awesome during low tide (as i expected). swarms of little crabs and other forms of sealife! it was quite freaky deaky, looked like the crabs and hermit crabs were planning on an invasion. but HAH, we ensured that them little critters knew their place in the heirachy! scutter away from our gigantahumongous feet O little ones!
10. resort actually had a small aviary, and in the mornings, they would let a couple of them wander free. had the oppurtunity to come across a really truly crazy bird. i was talking to a pair of chickens, telling them that it's okay i'm safe i really like cows better when quite SUDDENLY, this huge emu-like blue spotted bird came running towards me from a corner! it really ran quite fast, considering its skinny legs atop its bulk. and then a bout a 4 metres away from me, it would abruptly STOP, run away behind the corner, then run back towards me again! several times.
11. mosquitos feasted on my face on my second night while i was sleeping. i covered everything up except my face, because i couldnt bear the suffocation. woke up with several swollen facial bits. monster mosquitos.
12. vistied kampungs and long lost, not-so-distant, practically strangers, i-never-knew-they-exited relatives. in retrospect, the fact that i knew nothing about them is both amazing and alarming. I HAVE KAMPUNG ORIGINS!
13. had an unexpectedly enjoyable time being lost in the maze that is the kampung's roadwork.
14. came across two rather gorgey, european backpackers on motorcycles in weird rubber biker armour. they looked a bit like armadillos. one looked better with his helmet on, and the other disappointed me when he took off his bandanna because then we found out he had boyband floppy hair.
15. i am back in singapore. i like being back, even though i wasn't really away. and in a sporadic moment of patriotism, am glad to be a singaporean because a) we don't live in kampungs without proper electricity, plumbing and most importantly INTERNET. b) i have pleasantly discovered that the majority of the singaporean audience are not as immature as i thought to vote for sylvester instead of taufik. hey hey this is significant and it's NOT because the latter has a very cute smile, but because it proves that generally, we recognize talent. i apologize for general remarks of disdain made in the not so distant past.

now that condensed listing is over, i shall move on to today's Rant. it had started to seriously irk me, the presence of women in recent music videos. it is irritating to see, slammed into my face, these videos with scantily clad women hanging around like spare-whotsits!

we have merely become trophies in these silly videos, a symbol of how desirable this man is. as if we have no better purpose, where is your dignity?! i am angry because i think of all the bra-burners who worked hard for women's liberation and here we are, back to square one. and this time, verily it seems that these women are subjecting themselves to it quite voluntarily.

and please, do not give me the crap that you are exercising your right, your FREEDOM to behave anyway you want. that it is your choice to blatantly exihibit your sexuality, that you WANT to hang on to their arms, because they make you look good, you make him look good so really what is the problem? it's an effing paradox. he looks good because of the women, and the woman looks good hanging on to him because he looks good, which is brought by the tagging harem.

argh.

the funny and interesting is, this occurence transcends genres. it happens in rock, hip-hop, pop. which only goes to show that this situation is universal, and if this is so, there is a huge possibility that it has always been in us humans. the ease in which women are objectified into symbols of sex and power acquired, and the willingness for women to do so because it's the easiest way to give them a sense of worth. and if it's in us, well that is very sad and maybe that's why i'm so worked up. because then it will mean that despite efforts to do good and change things, we are naturally 'bad' and will revert back into this state given the chance.

and to think those women burned their bras for nothing.

i had planned for myself a rather calm day today. shopping with an unexpectedly stubborn person ("let's do it the girl way") and the usual starbucks trip with buddies.

but oh no.

to cap(!) it all off, we had to watch a flick. and since the squinting-at-subtitles french movie wasn't out yet, and i kinda only like jim carrey slapstick, we did not watch that no paddle seth green thing or hurrah shark tale.

saw was a fabbity fab fab flick that was freaky-deaky sick twisted morbid psychotic unexpected and really, just OMF. on the "WHOA Scale", i would rate it 5 times better than the 6th Sense; which comparatively is absolutely tame when taking all the gore into consideration.

gore izyanti?, you ask, but i thought you usually don't like all that fake blood.

well yes i still don't like it when its senseless. it gets tiring when blood is splattered and spewed over and over again with the same old usual boring cheesy tacky male-driven gun fight. can i say, yawn? it's redundant, unneccesary and on the whole just sensationalism to get the testosterone driven to buy over-priced tickets, and over-priced poofed corn kernals and an over-priced tank of soda that will corrode your innards.

but this movie however, the gore i thought complemented the flick. it wasn't just a marketing tool or a way to spend millions of dollars in movie production. it was carefully calculated to heighten the terror felt as the plot twists turns and entangles until you feel like you're going to die.

which is why, in a sick way and i honestly never thought i would hear myself saying this, i actually appreciated the gore. it was not silly, nor excessive - it was part of the story-telling. it did freak me out, and i will probably have a few shadows of it in my dreams to come but well, it's also really handle-ble. c'mon it's OUR censorship board!

sadly, i have this tendency to overlook the director but this flick was really a notable one. the pace and tension was built up with such precision, that it kinda just grabs you and holds you and you don't even realize that you're actually in a very near semblance to terror or at the least, intense fear.and the level of confusion that the director managed to maintain was just right so that it didn't become predictable or 'uh, whaaaat?' - just enough so that when added to the fear, it became this heady potent mix that made the adrenaline feel so much more colder. i could taste mine.

the plot is so layered, it's like jennifer aniston's old hair cut oh haha.

but most of all, i like the way the uber intense plot handles the voyeurism theme so effingly well. it goes beyond the first or secondary character, it's in the minor characters as well which i realized while i was delving through the scenes on the bus trip home. its honestly a wonderfully wriiten, VERY original screenplay.

so go on, watch it. i don't say this often, but it was worth my $8.50.












(whaaaat, that's half a cd you know!)

i realized today that in moments of tension anxiety and mild unsettlement, my face becomes contorted into that patented 'constipated rupert grint as Ron Weasley look'.





















hmm.

something i want more than the Zen micro, something that i will want forever and ever and ever and ever and ever:

i want to be brilliant.





it would be wonderful i think, to be that enthrallingly intelligent. and not for the reason that mugging would automatically become redundant, but for the simple reason that when you're brilliant, everything is more or less easier. you can do anything at all, the world is at your feet. and if you're not the world-domination sort, it is at the least you're very own stage. to be that uber talented in that one thing that you adore, nothing else would matter even if you were damn fugly.

the exception to this of course, would be to be unloved. that possibly is much much worse than being un-brilliant.

the beauty of brilliance is success, and by this, i do not mean sheer monetary or career success. what i want is the ease and assurance that whatever you do does not suck. although thinking about it now, being brilliant does not mean a lack of self-conscious perfectionism. i want to be brilliant because then i will never have to worry about sounding stupid as i am wont to do, or producing works that at first i find pretty decent then in retrospect, find that it belongs in the damned grime of the trash.

for example, i read through one of the prose pieces i did, furiously editted and re-printed it out. i then took the old copy, stuck my gum in it and is now awaiting trash removal. i hate the way that in the end, i always hate what i have done. and really, hate is NOT too strong a word to describe this.

what makes this want for brilliance worse is being surrounded by the brilliant. i suppose 'surrounded' would be an exaggeration (whaaaaat? don't kill me!), but it is enough to have a few friends or acquaintences (i can't even spell this!) who are truly of above-average intelligence. It is enough for me to make sufficient comparison and thereby making a conclusion that i could never be like them. i do not think brilliance is something that can be acquired really, you either have it or you don't. talent is another thing of course, likewise maturity and insight that is gained through normal living. this would mean then, that brilliance is absolutely unattainable and therefore, I MUST HAVE IT. oh haha.

i suppose i am just being wistful.

i am worried by my need to seek approval.

think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts

can't fly without the fairy dust. ho hum pig's bum i feel a spurtt of incoherence coming on, i should run off before this incoherence is converted into a tangible form. ah too late. i want to write, i really do but every time i try i can't. the first block is the habit i have of dismissing a lot of ideas because i think their immature or cliched. the second one that i face is more scary.

it is like the principal compared to someone who actually makes sense like ms tay. the principal yabbers on and on and really you've heard it before and you wish you could throw it into those old rubber boots that always surface on bad fishing days, but you can't because unfortunately what she says applies to life. so you nod and hmm and aah just to pass the time, because this phase does not matter much since it is expected and well, more dismiss-able.

the second roadblock is the scarier one because what is being said actually makes sense. and you can see no way out of it, because it is all True. there is no loophole to wiggle your way through! and this block is the mere fact that i have no experience. i have not lived nor seen the world, not really. what have i been doing this past few years?

child, daughter, student and teenager.

which honestly, is not much. and you know, you write what you know. and when you don't know much, well that's a very small box i'm stuck in! how exactly am i supposed to venture out of the genres when i know nuts? and i do not think i could write a discourse on the merits of pistachios instead of walnuts and macadamia nuts and why chestnuts are not nuts, they are CORMS.

a solution would be to write fantasy, but i am very horrid with plotlines, and so it would most probably result in a one-track page filler. which i suppose is a start. except that I don't take fantasy seriously. it's a good example of fiction i agree, but i find it difficult to put it under literature. i do not know why, i just find realistic prose resonates more for me. it could also be why i really like B&W photos more than coloured ones.

and you know, i don't actually mind speaking malay. i just hate speaking it in the company of people who know how rare such a moment is. because it makes me uncomfortable when it is pointed out, and when it brings laughter even when i know its friendly. ah yes, i know why. i hate having this weakness being pointed out. because god knows i hate being seen as weak.

which brings to mind this cassandra claire Dravo Veritas quote:
"i can't use sex to get what i want, sex is what i want!"

oops wrong one.

mmkay, found it; ginny says this to him
"You despise weakness, and that means you're capable of real cruelty towards the helpless, and you despise your own weakness most of all"

which i find true of me as well, cassandra claire has managed to articulate why i loathe some people with such a vengeance. oh bravo! this is why i love her dearly.

past few days have been fun. two very very fruitful shopping trips to town.

items bought

• a really nice viridian green kint top.
• this oh so funkay bangle.
• does my spongebob tee count?
• a very very nice sky/grass print zipped bag thing
• mystery gift for someone (i)
• mystery gift for someone (ii)
• canvas-es for painting!
• ribbon and lace from spotlight for this-and-that
• brother's birthday present.
• photo album for myself (plain black cloth bound!)
• 2005 calendar organizer.

hmm. a uncomfortably long list.

more things that i have to get

• mystery gift for someone (iii)
• mystery gift for someone (iv)
• smaller mystery x'mas tokens for close buddies (vi)
• bits and pieces to complete above-mentioned mystery gifts.
• good black pinstripe pants.
• a funkay tote bag.
• a hair cut.
• The Creative Zen Micro.

i however do take comfort in the fact that at least i'm not buying things ALL for myself. but anyway, PLEASE fund my chronic shopping spree-ing, i do not think my NETS card can take it any longer, even though considering i had deposited all current Hari Raya Funds inside said bank account. oh no, i cannot afford this lifestyle. and maybe it'snot so bad because even though i buy a lot (for me anyway), i reaaaally try not to get overly expensive stuff.

i was at funan today with gennie, and we ran into a model of the Zen Micro. of course, i have already wanted it since it first came out. but holding it in my palm (yes, only my palm), it fit so beautifully and perfectly that i think i was actually experiencing momentary lust for that beautiful thing. granted design-wise, it is not quite as gorgeous as the iPod, but then again i am getting sick of the latter's persistent advertizing and now rather annoying VERY simple capabilities. and now i am reading online reviews of the Zen Micro, and it is generally..how do you say? WONDERFUL. in fact, they rate it better than the iPod Mini! *swoons* http://www6.head-fi.org/forums/showthread.php?t=93151

I MUST HAVE IT.

cue momentary (hopefully) period of angst:

a few weeks ago, i was sure what i wanted to do, my plans post-Os and post-secondary school were cemented in concrete. haha kill me somebody. i suppose this only confirms it once again that concrete is not that permanent after all.

then i put aside the ? that ended everything by telling myself that it doesnt matter, we shall get through the Os first, and then we'll settle it. except now, it IS after the Os - and in a few days i'll need to have made my decision and pray that it's not a mistake. it worries me the most, making a mistake. and my plans for this-and-that after the Os feel strange because suddenly, I HAVE A LOT OF TIME. i can do what i want, and this sudden onslaught of 'freedom' is just strange. it thrilled me yesterday, realizing that i could go out the next day, and the next, and the next, and the next. but now it just daunts me, because i am not having a schedule of mugging and school-based activities imposed on me.

for the first time, i can actually do what i want (well, kinda. but enough).

oh and i ran into kass today in town! so, is the mrt busking thingamajig still on? ho hum, pig's bum. ENTERTAIN ME so i won't have to think. oh wow the moon looks positively creepy tonight. the partially clud covered, eerily yellow-orange glowing kind from B-grade horror flicks.

i will not allow myself to devolve into a non-active blob of a thing during the holidays.

yes this is all i have to say about the OVER-NESS OF MY O LEVELS.

ugh the people at tag-board are all doofi. its down, yet again. i think someone must have spilled coffee over their server. or maybe donut crumb got into the machine and did funny electrical things that messed everything up. or maybe a wild orgy was held the night before and in all the heaving and um, squirming, someone knocked a very Important Wire loose.

oh i don't know. but it is very annoying, am almost tempted to get it changed. fortunately for the blokes at tag-board, my chemistry exam starts in a few hours, so i really should not be here. and, i have a general tummy ache and its not a good situation to go twiddling around with html code.

why do i have a tummy ache? this does not make any sense, i did not eat any dairy products -wait, there was that slice of cheese, but that's usually quite okay. and i was having quite a healthy diet yesterday ow ow okay i IREALLY have to go shit there, much better. so anyway! what i ate yesterday included very little of those yummy red chips that i usually gorge on and LOTS of raisins. raisins, i tell you! its the snack that all health books talk about, the snack that mother's tell their blonde blue-eyed children to eat in prettily illustrated kiddie books.

i do not understand the workings of my bowel system. other than the fact that it may be more temperemental than me im woken up half way from a muchly needed nap, hungry and the person who woke me up is my very annoying brother.

i am picky about the raisins i eat. yesterday, i found a bit of raisin-fied leaf in the box, in addition to all the disturbingly dark and rottish looking raisins. they are small, discoloured and squishier than usual and i REFUSE to eat them. so i only eat those that are a nice unblemished yellow or golden. its just that the spotty ones look really..unedible.

this idiosyncratic behaviour got me thinking about all the other weird habits that we have. like when i iron my uniform, i strictly strictly iron the collar first, then the sleeves, the shoulder bits, then the left front panel, back, and then finally the right front panel. i do not know why. same for the way i get dressed. always bottoms first, and any other way just seems weird. which is why i was left disturbed watching my sister dress for school. she, like everybody normal, put on her blouse first - it was the pinafore bit that was strange. she put it on from the bottom, and who does that? not only is it weird, but it is also against logic because well, the blouse will get crumpled under the pinafore, which is uncomfy.

maybe it's because she's a lefty.

in accordance to my theory that fungus, fungi and doofus, doofi - is anus, ani? sounds even too strange for me. and i can't think of any other -us words, such is the limit of my sad brain.

I can't sleep tonight
Everybody saying everything's alright
Still I can't close my eyes
I'm seeing a tunnel at the end of all these lights
Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong

Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I can't avoid the lightning

I can't stand myself
I'm being held up by invisible men
Still life on a shelf whenI got my mind on something else

Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong

Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I can't avoid the lightning

Oh, where did the blue skies go?
And why is it raining so?
It's so cold
I can't sleep tonight

Everybody saying everything's alright
Still I can't close my eyes
I'm seeing a tunnel at the end of all these lights
Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong

Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I can't avoid the lightning

Oh, where did the blue skies go?
And why is it raining so?
It's so cold
Why does it always rain on me?

- Travis.

i have always loved this song, although its very embarassing to admit that i only realized it's by travis while scouring through limewire. its one of those songs that automatically come to mind when you're wondering around alone, it's plaintive tune fitting those moods when you're just simply taking an observatory role in the world.

yes, my limewire is back up and running. i am happy, because i have a chock load of new songs. which i swear, is the reason why i'm online so often, i'm listening to all the sparkling brand-new songs. why not burn them into a cd, you ask. well, because among the songs, i'm sure some of them suck or are damaged, and its such a waste to burn a spoiler into a cd. i'm not as neurotic as charmaine in this area, but it does leave me considerably annoyed. feed my music junkie; send me songs when you see me online!

sometimes i fear that i have not been taking my O's seriously enough. which admittedly, is quite a belated admission, since mine ends in a day or so. i feel quite calm about it, and no..passion in mugging. i see people adrenaline-charged in their mugging spree, powered by panic. and me, there simply is no panic. but this is not to say im nonchalent.

i'm taking it as if it's just another exam but it's not, is it?

Things to Do After the O's

• movie marathons
• beach picnic at sentosa
• plan class chalet
• take up pottery classes
• AsiaMediaFestival
• work on writing/art portfolio
• shopping in 'town'
• shopping not in 'town'
• madCAP outing
• gallery thing with gennie (come with us!)

i think i am just bored.

ENTERTAIN ME.

even having a crush doesn't keep me amoosed anymore, because i know myself so well so i know exactly how it will turn out. musings and imaginary conversations get tiring because between the happy daze is the simple and bare truth that it will never happen because i will never do anything.

and i would rather risk death by boredom than tell.

on another note, is it possible to feel tired by a friendship? it gets..difficult, because of the constant effort to accomodate each other. because both try so hard to keep it going despite everything and the constant non-contact. i am not used to working at something, friendships have always been spontaneous. i have fun with those who are there, and those who aren't - i usually accept it and let it go. except in this case, of course it can't be just let go. it would be ridiculous to. but it has come to a point that we both hardly know anything about each other's current going-ons, and i feel the strong inclination to point a very angry finger at the bloody exams. IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT THAT THIS FRIENDSHIP IS WITHERING AWAY. and what makes this situation even worse is that friends who are not as close, now know more about me than said friend. which goes against logic, although it is logical.

it is an un-fun situation. i hate socially difficult moments, and i think its safe to say that this is a long drawn out one.

hello all. i shall amaze you lot with the extent of my scattered brain as succintly proved by today's art exam.

half an hour into the exam, i looked at the clock and swiftly decided all right, i shall start the painting now and looked calmly around my desk for my paint set. peering under the debrus consisting of numerous sheets of A3 paper and other art junk, i realized with equal calmness that said paint box is not with me. how strange, i muttered and proceeded to raise my hand. with a very apologetic smile, i told the invigilator that i think i left it in my bag, may i please go get it?

and so i did.

the bag was opened, and all i saw was the usual bag detritus; loose papers, the occasional pen cap, sweet wrappers and biscuit crumbs. and no paint. by this time, i had of course lost all coherent thought. flashing red lights that morse coded PANIC.

considering that what i was doing consisted largely of acrylic, and that i had only a measly set of colour pencils (which i hate), it was a very very very very bad situation. this i'm telling you, karmic retribution. i'm not sure what i did wrong, but it must have been something bad! how incredibly doofus-y can you get?? i brought everything, especially all the inane and unneccesary stuff like said loathed colour pencils and tracing paper BUT I FORGOT TO BRING THE PAINT. i had actually stopped halfway down the stairs from the car park to re-check whether i had brought the SINGLE bottle of matte black poster paint, but i forgot to bring the entire BOX of paints.

d'oh!

but i suppose i have not been that eville, because i managed to convince the invigilator to scurry down to my art teacher to get me a box from the art room. seriously, that was too close a call for my liking.

i might be turning into angeline wong.

also, i realize with much regret that i should have bothered to study for only less than 2 hours (and not even that because most of the time was spent giggling chortling hysterically laughing - but more on that anon) for social studies because HEY I DID WELL FOR HISTORY TODAY. although i have to specify that here we're talking about my standard of 'well' which by ordinary and expected standards, is not actually 'well' at all. in fact, it is quite ill.

wait - i have to stab myself in the eye for that last line.

and nadalala (yes nadya huang yanyan of 406) kissed the Principal today. a historic and um, frightful event indeed. mark it down in all your calanders, kiddies! hopefully, this event shall remain a thing of the past, and will not occur in the unforeseen future. i fear that her lips might be severely damaged by the scrubbing with industrial handsoap detergent (euchy stuff!) that ensued afterwards. but then again, damaged lips could keep her quiet. is it worth it, do you think?

according to charmaine lee yun hua, when i blush, it starts with my nose before spreading to my cheeks, other facial regions before finally conquering my ears. O what i would do to be a delicate blushing english rose - but no, i am more of rudolf the red-nosed reindeer. tis very sad, and more importantly, very ugly. even more disturbingly, why do i have reindeer DNA? such are the things that will keep me awake tonight.

events that are described in the following may not be very accurate due to dilute emotions of euphoria that enveloped the writer. think of her poor brain addled by endorphins: for a moment in the library today, i think someone might have figured it out. it is a hunch, but a scary one - like the hunchback of Notre Dame's deformity. i do not think i shall elaborate, because the the little details that i have are already very fuzzy. But the point here is, i think if anyone finds out, i will
a) be mortified at my ineffective disguise of affection. the thought of me being unknowingly obvious is the peak of utter embarrassment.
b) and from such onslaught of severe emotions, i shall die.

i am hyperventilating.

few things get me into this state, and it usually involves an overwhelming onslaught of emotions. and she has managed to do so, once again, better than ever. i don't quite know how she does it, but she does every single time, and this hit is the worst yet.

CASSANDRA CLAIRE, I LOVE YOU!

how i adore thee so, love's night is noon! thank you for draco thank you thank you thank you. DV 15 is out! it could very well be my unstable hormones, but this half-chapter is possibly the most heart-wrenching yet. i could ramble on and on, but i think a single word would suffice

beautiful.

Has been a long time since I blogged. Which is already a surprise – what makes it a bigger shocker is the fact that it’s not as if I have not been online. I have, unfortunately, numerous times. Several times a day, at times! The point is, I have nothing that I want to blog about.

I hope this does not mean a dry spell induced by the 0’s.

The funny thing is, there is of course a LOT to write about. The whole examination process, for example. Lots and lots of stress and drama there. It is just that after blog-hopping, I start feeling whatever I have to say will either be
- redundant/pointless/waste of space
- verily incoherent, lacking eloquence and basically, sounding very immature compared to the better blogs out there.

Which is why I refuse to comment on the american elections.

But anyway, its making me wonder, what exactly is the point of me blogging? Though I am thankfully, not a complete waste of space like the blogs that painfully go over inane details of their day, mine is nothing particularly outstanding either. Its presence means nothing, its absence would mean nothing either. To be honest, I am starting to feel very silly when blogging. I suppose it is rather presumptuous to think that people actually are interested with what I have to stay. I could stop, I don’t feel the urge to blog anymore (read: novelty has faded). Currently, there is nothing in my life that is particularly interesting and I would rather stab myself in the eye than spill details of too often moments of angst.

I might have out-grown my blog.

This has nothing to do with the privacy issue, of feeling your blog isn’t what it used to be because of the guaranteed readership. Even if I were to start a anonymous and private blog, it would serve no purpose because the main point being ranted here is..what?

Ah yes. I am not sure why I blog.

If it could be more prolific as a 'writer', I suppose that would be a purpose. If I could produce mature in-depth witty scathing commentary on the world around us, I suppose that would be serve as a purpse too. So once again, mediocrity has become the issue of the day.