hi! meet oz, the purple hedgehog. no i detest barney the dinosaur, and i hv no basis whatsoever for his name. it just sounds small and compact, like him (yes it's a male, but all spayed and neutered thank you very much). click him once, and he twitches. twice, he leaps into the air. three times, and you're officially a person with too much time on your hands. enjoy!
a couple of months back, veen jokingly rolled her eyes and said that i was going through a second childhood/ finally getting my rebellious streak. (read: up till recently, i was an extremely good girl k? never gotten coal for christmas before, and never been threatened with nasal lengthening by the blue fairy either. always listened to everyone, did anything you'd ask w/o a second thought. it seemed like the only thing to do; i mean, if someone scheduled a meeting, you'd go if you could. people said that i was sweet, thoughtful and.. well, rather uneventful.)
and then i developed an opinion. i realised that i had a life too, and that i wanted to live. which opened up possibilities such as giving up something for another, and making hitherto unheard-of decisions. such as not going for lectures because it would be boring. such as suddenly calling up the office to inform them that i was feeling sick (at the thought of seeing them). such as wanting to get a tattoo. such as abandoning calls, messages, emails and everything else and pretending to be a hermit free of all societal bindings.
in vain, i was. but cease such childish behaviour, i have not.
it's funny, having a second childhood at this time. i'm old enough to chide myself for such irresponsibility, yet young enough to crave this sinful freedom.
i'm truly sorry to all those who've been affected by this new personality; sorry, but sweet unthinking michele has gone on a short holiday, we don't know if she'll be back soon. oh she visits sometimes, but sometimes it isn't who you think it is.
the shell only carries echoes of the sea it was once part of.
ah yes.. school has started again. as i embark on yet another nerve-wrecking, breathless rush against time (and my limited quantity of grey matter), i must say that the vacation past was quite.. interesting. earned a couple of bucks, turned 21, screwed up one or two (million) things, went on a trip with friends. in no particular order.
went back to school the other day to do some inane stuff and get my hostel keys. and of all the freshies i could've bumped into, it had to be him. yep, my one irrational, childish indulgence in jc. everytime i saw him, that pesky thumping organ would skip a beat. i knew everything was wrong, and that nothing would ever happen, and that i wouldn't want anything to happen anyway; but still he became my walking, breathing prozac.
don't jump to conclusions; i'd rather things stay as they were. to me, he's more a symbol of everything that once was, than an actual person. it was a time when all was innocent and naive and well, happy. i had a little grin on my face that day, tempered with the jaded glazed look of knowing that all that was past, that things would never be the same again. oh you can try, but you know it'll never be quite the same.
i think i've uncovered an extremely sneaky marketing ploy at junction 8's thai express: step 1: lower air-conditioning temperature to frigid conditions. step 2: serve ice- cold water to guests while they wait for their food.
result: customers are so cold that they (a) immediately order curry, (b) practically inhale the life-restoring meal, (c) don't linger around with after-dinner conversation, (d) thereby ensuring quick turnover and higher profits.
okay, so they're valuable.. assets (each implant costs abt US$400). they're in high demand (peak period for boob jobs- impending bikini season). but how the heck does one come up with the idea to steal a vanful of jellied mounds? and since they're individually numbered (!), they can only be sold on the black market, and even then the buyers might be wary.
as such, they might have difficulty selling off all the implants. kind (and bo liao) me has come up with a few suggestions what they can do with these poor unwanted bags of silicone: - market the smaller ones as really expensive five-stones (you know, that childhood game?) - use as paperweight - stick a few together and sneak it into an art musuem, entitling it "objects of desire" or whatever - play catch with them - lightweight training for shot put - create a lighter version of those gross pebbly "acupuncture" paths ah peks love to walk barefoot on in parks - give it back to the company
1. well alright at least kids are reading nowadays. but look at what they're reading! tome (n) : a (usually) large and scholarly book in my time (ok fine i'm elderly liao ok? i admit!) we read comics, or novels if we were feeling intellectual. but now they're reading tomes!! *conjures images of dusty crypts and powerful spells wielded by wrinkly men in hoods* wonder what kind of people kids who grow up reading tomes will become. able to see the big picture, yet pick out the little, important details? people with continuity? well-defined, muscular forearms?
2. the boy's name is Sylum Mastropaolo. what kind of name is that? add an A in front, and the boy is stuck with an IMH stigma all his life.
3. all this hype, it's scary. security guards, affidavits, vows of secrecy.. you'd think some new secret of the Bible was being held. but i guess the more hype, the more interest, the more sales.. and fewer trees. to those who're getting their hands on a copy at 7.01am tmr.. hv fun! =)
warning: photo flood! first bunch are of the bioscience foc last wk. here're the programmers on day 1, all fresh and happy. without eyebags and sunburns.
presenting the tau-huay sellers: highly skilled in the fine, deft art of making the perfect water bomb. we must have made >1000 water bombs throughout the entire 5 day camp..
went with bro and cuz (look at his cute shirt!) to some club after my bday a couple of wks ago. he's a personal trainer i think. really big shoulders! oh btw did you know that when you carry weights, your bones are compressed so your height actually decreases? what's that you say? no i didn't say anything.. *whistles innocently*
finally met up with my dearest bunch for a belated bday celebration on sat. as per tradition, the bday recipient is sabo-ed. et moi? presenting ox tongue with wasabe sauce. i already said i DIDN'T LIKE wasabe *sob* but at least they didn't get the turtle in wine sauce.. poor turtle..
sorry to all those who presumed i was dead/ kidnapped during the past one wk.. was at camp, AND my phone died *sob*.. it simply refuses to switch on. no i wasn't trying to avoid y'all (not this time anyway =P)
two words: bloody tanned. looking at my arms now, it's a lovely glowing burnt caramel. and i also have white stripes on my feet and left wrist (read: sandals and watch) and of course swimsuit string tan lines. i feel like a damned zebra.
camp was great, i ban4 gui3 for fright night, complete with scarlet halterneck dress, long hair and dark candlelit room at a changi chalet. i sincerely apologize to the following 2 groups of people:
1. those poor civilians staying in the chalet next to ours. who had to listen to us scream stuff like "what are you doing here?!", "get out!!!", "but WHY??" and other assorted shrieks and howls about 30 times, all till the wee hours of the morning. heh.
2. the freshies who were truly terrified. wo3 bu4 shi4 gu4 yi4 de1!! esp that malay guy who, when i asked "what are you doing here", mumbled "i don't know, can we go now.."
one thing i notice, whenever i'm stuck with a group of people for >1 day, i lapse into a chinese version of michele. i use mandarin so frequently i scare myself.
but yeah everything else was fun too, will post pix as soon as i get them. now if you don't mind i'll go tend to my sunburns now.. cheerios!