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is currently an undergraduate student, and coping with her overwhelming commitments. I like long walks in solitude, cosy chats, usually sleep like a log, and beg your patience in tolerating my versatile humour

A heavy purse makes a light heart. Well, what I obviously found out this week was that a lack of purse makes a heavy heart.
I just had to lose my freaking wallet when we are this close to the As.
I really honestly remember putting it into my bag when I came to school. Before I went to the canteen ex, talked to Kathy, socialised with Fripp Jas and ML at the library, got told off by Bob the Slacker for slacking, then met Cheryl in the library to study and came out for lunch -then
realising it wasn't there.
I was pretty upset over it -I mean I know I'm really careless and irresponsible when it comes to my belongings. My parents always complain that I'm carrying too many things in my hand when I leave the house in a rush in the morning, plus the fact that I did lose my phone in the climax of Finale Evening of Orientation 1 doesn't and misplacing my watch during dragon boating in my first intake doesn't really help my cause.
But I suppose it was a lesson to be learnt, for me -that made me really thankful for my wonderful amazing friends (: Seeing me distraught, whiny, anxious and distracted outside at the foyer, they totally rushed to my rescue:
-Frippiat, who helped me pray to St Anthony (after Mr Yeow's advice "if all else fails, I suppose there's still St Jude) albeit the many interruptions
-ML who was super helpful and kept asking me to retrace my steps
-Toon Jin who had just arrived, and heard from Fripps, and decided to ask the librarians
-Jason who generously loaned me 10 bucks
-Audrey, Jas, Grace, Carmen, Bob, Justin, and the many many canteen ex people who were concerned
-not forgetting my classmates who were having GP consultation when they saw my flustered self walking around the school aimlessly
-Cheryl, for her ez link card
This incident reminded me how I am, contrary to popular belief, actually ruled more by emotions than by reason, how a simple irreponsible act can totally thwart my momentum, that I couldn't even study for that whole day.
I'm actually freaking out now, and not just becuse of the wallet, because we are how close to the As. Oh my tian oh my tian oh MY TIAN ): And I think I might want to pick up conversational Malay/Chinese after my As just so I can eavesdrop on all the heartland aunties and uncles who whisper around. Like today I ordered 4 packets of chicken rice before heading for school (and hello it wasn't JUST for me) and the uncle gave me this I-know-teenagers-have-a-ravenous appetite-but-this-is-ridiculous look before smiling to his collegue the chicken meat chopper > : (
Deepavali is in 10 minutes and I am veh the excited. I don't celebrate but STILL. When you have Indian cable TV plus the new Vasantham blaring programmes that scream watch me!watch me! with all the uber cool new songs and pretty actresses well,

resistance is futile.

If you noticed the Indian Tamil population in Singapore, they will be looking quite tired and drained out today.

The reason being, they were probably watching Sivaji on the new Vasantham last night.

Mock exams are a consipiracy by the management to, yes you guessed it, mock and ridicule our academic incompetency. Econ was manageable, lit was a hour of stoning, geog was a no-show and math today was deeesgusting. Not only do they disrupt your normal revision time, you start panicking because there's a whole load of content you need to re-cover again (post prelim knowlege rusts like a moist iron bar). This week can be akin to refrigerator time- chill in library, freeze in library, frozen, come out to thaw, defrost. Repeat cycle.

Class girl time have been dominating the week - been seeing the girls almost daily, whether to chit chat, get distracted, or just studying furiously. Speaking of furious, I have yet to come to terms with the fact that I have in some sense risen in the eyes of some because of my diplomatic ability to tell people off. Don't get me wrong; I detest to be seen as someone who picks at your faults, albeit the fact that I grudingly have to agree that I can be capable of being frank about it. But as Frippiat and Fishy the best buddies in the world put it,

"It's like you hardly get angry. So like, when you do become mad, people tend to take you seriously."

Annoyance and indignance aside, have you ever considered sacrifices in general? It usually involves some form of giving up, so that another party benefits - maybe at your personal detriment. But someone once told me that sometimes sacrifices are made without expecting anything in return - that's the harder kind to make. Like how Christ died so that we could be saved, even though he was never at fault to begin with. Maybe that's why the greatest thing that anyone could do would be to die for a friend. With respect to sacrifices, why is that we can make other people happier by denying ourselves in some way? It's almost sadistic how you need to experience pain/loss/denial just so another person can be made happier/content. Which brings us to the economic concept of "You are not better off until you made someone else worse off". That would similarly link to the idea of the pursuit of beauty by women throughout the ages. Most of the beauty-enhancing devices such as your famous Victorian corsets, or the tiny bound feet women of China, right down to the extreme cases of some people who amputate their biggie toes just to fit into some designer heels, often cause intense pain, and YET, we still do it.

Is there pain in beauty, then? Poe would have answered my question with his perfect example of the bereaved lover. Sorry readers, I was just thinking aloud. I have such a windy, meandering way of linking things -it's like macro econs in my head, with Mr Billy saying "okay, discusion now...what can go wrong?"

This is such a incoherent post without any linkages, I would attribute it to the caffeine that just kicked in.

It's not what they tend to classify as love. No passionate feelings, that uneasy flutter of the butterfly, or the little jump/flush/hesitant peek/look away quickly flurry of feelings, whipping out of the phone. No racing heartbeat approaching the staircase, no furtive glances at the sprawling field.

So why do I feel it is?

You, on the other hand, are the biggest regret about CJ that I will probably have. Maybe I should have said something, anything at all. Then it would have been out in the open, once and for all. I'm sorry I didn't. Such a wimp yes I know. I couldn't even try. I hope that I won't see you again in the distant future, when we incidentely bump into each other along a supermarket aisle, or along a road. Because - I wouldn't know how to respond.

Friday was such a heart warming, enjoyable and simply beautiful day - albeit the horrible choice of movie ( we really thought we were going to watch HB) - with every single member of 2T11. Never before have we had such a turnout for any of our class outings (full attendance). Gossip session at Swensen's was the bomb, really really (: I hope that we will always meet up on the 11th of November every year. Listening to HW's entertaining stories or Hello Kathy tearing alot, or even Thrishna's random outbursts and Ruben's squabbles- this will be memories echoing in the chambers of my heart (apart from the steady dumdum dumdum), bringing a silly grin to my face.

Studied with the PW girls in school - okay we weren't v productive but at least I verified the Liquidity Trap and X inefficiency. Quality > Quantity!

Tomorrow marks a week of mock exams - I know it doesn't affect the As but somehow I still feel quite overwhelmed by the schedule and the content coverage ): I MUST NOT GIVE UP AT THIS CRUCIAL PERIOD, GOD!

Friends, if you see me in school, all emo and angsty, please feed the Moss guavas. Thank you.

Tomorrow will be Graduation Day - the day when we are no longer officially 18 year old toilet-blue uniform clad CJCians who are well known for their friendly hospitalibility and lack of urgency. Instead we will be A level Candidates, our identities boiled down to a mere index number, our lives judged by a grade, a 3 hour paper which requires the finest of thought, best of concentration and fluently articulated answers.

I'm not sure I can learn to accept this.

As though God was aiming for me to have some closure to my life that was currently, as a Tamil idiom describes it, a boat without an oar, today was filled with little symbolisms, lessons, and sinceity of deeds that made me thankful for what I have. My mom exclaimed at the sunrise today, which was ala Great Expectations mist-style( as Natalie put it), complete with the dewy effect and the diffused rays of orange sunlight. I wasn't late for school, after my late encounter yesterday - and the classroom was open. I feel very guilty for misplacing the tag, much more when I heard from Arthur that Ruben's had suffered an equal fate - no wonder so much of confusion and aggravated tension.

Morning assembly prayer was symbolically on Forgiveness by the docile Shan and dead pan Matthias which seemed to be rather, a direct call from God. I know not everyone is at the best of attention during assembly, but the prayer just seemed to speak volumes to me. I guess because of the very fact that I had been disappointed in the people whom I had considered my friends. Instead of brooding and being self-destructive because of issues related to them, maybe it's more sensible to accept them for their mistakes, and at best, master tact and honestly in talking to them. This term I learnt that you actually help a friend when you tell him/her the things that they don't want to hear. And if you have no courage, then get another friends to do so.

Felt rather pensive and distracted during lessons today, influx of messages coming in regarding birthdays and ponning of lessons/school and night study. Lit lecture was rather a spectable (pun pun) with Mr Glasgow donning geek specs for the amusement of T13, who dared him to please the students.

Then after school, our class rushed to complete the box. And Frippiat and I rushed for tuition. Which was rather CJ dominated today yayyay - and we laughed alot over the most ridiculous absurd things today. Which got us looks and stares :/ Then chionged back to school to shower 10 minutes before night study started. This marked the start of the drama:

You finally knew why I was angry. And you were really apologetic about it, having found out from ____ (whom omg, security breach of trust) and you knew you acted like a ___. I was completely flabbergasted and at a total loss for words -because uh I guess I wasn't that mad anymore so it was totally unexpected.

Hao Wen's hilarious reply to my initial "What's the plan for tmr?"
"I DON'T KNOW THAT WHY I KEEP SHOUTING IN CLASS TODAY. You know that everytime you shout you burst a few blood vessels and lose a few minutes of you life!"
But then again, by not shouting and bottling up your emotions, don't you also lose your years - because of the stress of the represssed feelings that you never voiced out?

Last Night Study Break today - Brother personally came down to thank them and presented them with the card before we attacked the banquet: noodles, egg tarts, nuggets, homemade pizza slices, fruits and Milo (: Sitting with the councillor/facil group is heart warmingly noisy and hilarious, yet today sitting with the class peeps was just as cosy as well.

Justin took an unglam photo of me in the final moments leading up to 10pm - with Kathy in it I suppose. Completely unaware until I had a creeping suspicion as to why Gab was very unusally angled away from her seat at the table in front of us. I was poring over the thesaurus so I suppose my only consolation was that I must have carried an intellectual poise (I HOPE).

When I finally got home, I ended up on the phone with Miss HahaLady for half an hour talking, giggling and suanning each other. And just got peer pressured into attending Joel's rosary sessoion tomorrow. Right after class outing, which I pray will be a success.

I think I should thank God today, that despite the fact that I've been neglecting him and losing my faith these days because of the helpnessness of my situation, he blesses me with the most inspirational of friendships that seek to empower me. I thank him for the countless night study sessions that I've attended and the buddies who always help me in Math/Econ - Meil Ling, Kathy, Frippiat, Andrew(once), Guin, Jacq and many many people -and the acquaintances whose mere presence alone is simply enough to be motivation. Thank you parents for the food, that I do not go hungry on the day I skip dinner and the warm Milo. The compound's tabby cat which amused me. The grumpy security guard who thinks that I "make life difficult for him". The intimidating presence of Brother in his towering frame and white robes who stares you into productivity. And of course the enjoyable walks back home - Carmen the Tarantula!

I'm afraid that I will be a complete bawling mess tomorrow, lettting the damwaters break at corny sentimental memories. I must be strong, I must presevere, knowing that this is not the end but another start, I must believe in myself and in others, I must live up to expectations mostly mine,

I must, most unfortunately graduate, with a heavy heart.

It was one of those mundane days at the community centre on a lazy afternoon when he walked in. I was busy with the administrative work, piled up to my nose ( mind you, I have a super sensitive one) sorting out the application forms for the social welfare scheme. Uma had very conveniently self-entitled herself to an early lunch break - I had my reservations about that woman ever since she had sniggered at my unfasionable hairdo. Like as though she was very fashionable - aiyoh, her cropped haircut reminiscent of Victoria Beckham just made her look very fashionable. Like a mushroom. And why would anyone want to look like her? So skinny the girl. I mean Victoria.

Hi aunty, can you help me or not?

Ya ya, what you want?
I couldn't be bothered to be those smiley-face receptionists you see on the posters, there was more presing matters at hand. Some hasty citizen had scribbled his name on the form, and I was busy deciphering whether it was Tan or Tam.

Er, I need some help applying for the financial assistance scheme.

Okay, give me a minute ar, it's the yellow form on the right of the counter, what's your name?

Hut.

I looked up sharply. There, dressed in a black tee shirt and equally grim jeans, was a lanky teenager. Male. Tanned. With a slouch.

"Hut" I echo him, unsure whether this boy was pulling my leg, anklets and goodness knows what else.

Yeah.

As in Pizza Hut?

No, just Hut.

Arre Krishna, I groaned inwardly, please don't let it be one of those kind. Kids these days, they are just like durian - you either hate them or love them. But of course, I didn't say it out loud. I had undergone enough customer service workshops on how to maintain my cool in mentally demanding situations. It's probably one of those wayward kids, with nothing better to do. As though they aren't enough trouble, they loiter around the community centre disturbing the stray cats and upsetting the dustbins. What they need, I always told my husband, is a good spanking with a chappati roller. Yes. That would teach them. Knock some sense into their dense heads.

So, er, Hut, please sit down here. Your full name, please?

Sorry this is for my grandma actually.

Oh?
I did a doubletake. So not those kind after all.

She can't come here, because the centre is too far away from her flat. And she can't converse in English either. So I'm here to help her apply.

Name?

Fatimah.

Age?

67.

Race?

Malay.

As I wrote out the form for him, I started feeling a little...guilty. A wave of sympathy rose within me, the kind that you get from watching the channel 28 drama serial at 10pm when Seetha's business partner backstabs her, leaving her bankrupt, stranded and with an ailing mother on the street. Also the same sense of pity I experienced in my community centre organised visits to the
Muslim orphanage, where children come from dysfuncational families or are abandoned by unwed mothers.

Have you eaten, boy?

He looked at me curiously.
Erm, yeah.

I busy myself rummaging through the drawers for the community stamp, despite the fact that Uma had initially cleared the entire stationary and immacutely arranged it very relucatantly after my constant nagging. I thought about the impoverished conditions that the villagers in some war-torn Muslim country resided in, taking up any available job, just to put some bread (or in their case, ketupat) on the table.

Your parents didn't come to register your grandmother?

No, they are busy at work.

Oh of course, I reply, truly convinced that his mother/father must be some blue-collar factory worker slogging away long hours.

What do they do for a living, boy?

My dad? He's currently away on a business trip. Some financial transaction with a client from the Middle East.

I am stunned beyond words. And your mom?

She's a school teacher. Chemistry.

I see.

So can I go now?

Oh. Right. Sure, I say, scanning through the yellow paper once more.
We'd get back to you on whether the application is successful or not, through mail.

Thanks, he replied, and even grins. And strolled out, whistling to the unheard melody of his Ipod.

I mutter and shake my head in disbelief, going back to my relatively high mountain of fluttering forms. When Uma sauntered inside after her break, I tried to interest her with my encounter with this boy who had came in earlier.

"And what was his name again you say?"

"Hut"

She looked long at me, expecting me to laugh out loud. I didn't.

"Is he Malay?"

Aiming
Beans
Carmen
Cereal Tossers
Deborah Faith
Hao Wen
Jacq
Joel
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T Lo

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