Creepy Hollow

(nostalgic) Merry Christmas

Went esplanade library to listen to RVAC carol...
Realised that all these years, I've always been a participant and was never in the audience. Was nice.
Some unexpected old friends like Wendy and Huiwen joined in this year, was really glad to see them =)
Many old friends, however, are missed, absence felt.
No more Paul, no more hui, no hua hua, no MM, no XJ, no JM, no ZH, no ZD, no Eric...
no more strong basses, no more nice "heedless of the wind or weathER" which is XJ's speciality...
No more mahjong sessions before we rush down for caroling...
Really miss all those times...
But glad that RVAC still is singing, and I have someone to root for every X'mas.

Listening to our concert CD as I am typing all these... We sounded so damn good, and all those close familiar friends all in the video.
I can't help but keep thinking ... Man, we were good! *APPLAUSE*

We were once students, able to commit to preparing for the concert... but now, everyone is doing something different, things have changed, priorities have shifted...

To all dear friends, no matter where you are, what you are doing, you are sorely missed...
MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Confidence misplaced

Constantly worried what others' reactions will be when they realised that their confidence is misplaced, how wrong they've been and how rotten that subject is.

What goes up must come down.

I wished it all began from down.
Too late
I'm sorry.

Ouch..

In the midst of cleaning my room. Its really a major project with so many things in my room...

Threw out chunks of my history notes that day. Heartbroken to dump my work and memories and sift out those that can be used as rough paper...
Years and semesters of education that drip out of the brain and chucked into bins.
Surprising, it hurts.

List of Sevens

Like XJ's list of sevens.

hoho.

Interesting read.

Know not how.

Not hiding.
Know not how.

Talk, how?
Ask, how?
Start, how?
To care, how?
Show concern, how?
Be interesting, how?

Nuisance? Bingo.
Dig dig dig.

Un- like

Ugly. Inside out.

Fear, inside, not out.

Lonely, inside, not out.

Corwardly, inside not out.

Discouraged, inside, not out.

Low self-concept, inside not out.

Plunging self-esteem, inside, not out.

Only ugly. The ugliness, only this, inside out.

Super Size Me

Supposed to be having holidays.
But after noting down the things I have to do...
Not much holidays to speak of.
And I have been procrastinating! Darn...
Have been playing zuma, which i have completed umpteen times. Just been trying to up my high scores. *yawn*
If only I am as persistent when it comes to doing my work.

And I have been sizing people up. Every single person from my lecturer to the person next to me on the bus. Silly comments and evil thoughts just flooded my brain with every move, every word...
Better stop being so critical and start reflecting about me-self...

GOD NO! YIKES!!!

Still fat. Sigh.

Yes.
And I'm still fat!
Grrr!

MAJOR SIGH>

Nichts.

Fluffy. Springy.
The brain is light.

So stuffed with info, yet nothing flows.
Cotton wool filled the entire brain,
yet dry, it remains.
No juices seeped, no linkling reached.

Poems? Out of league.

Air-head.

Weeeeeeeeeee!

Stuffed.

Stuffed I am. Literally and figuratively.

Food:
-Mos Burger for dinner (yummy!)
-papaya and apple
-part of durian puff
-soup
-tea
Well... that explains why my pants and tops seem to have grew fonder of my fleshy flesh. Cling cling cling.

Life nowadays seem as filled as my growing stomach, as packed as bus 199 every morning.

Resumed life as a student for barely a week and I'm already feeling the stress.
Actual Lost:
-up to $70 on books
-up to $60 on cab
-up to 2 hours of sleep per day
-up to 2 hours of tv per day
-up to 2 hours of CCA

Actual Gain: -Weight.

How to juggle both work and studies... I really have NO clue.
Monday to Thursday, study from 0830 to 1130, work from 1230 to 1715...
Reach home at 1900. Eat. Bathe. Rest. TV!
Hmm... when am I gonna read notes, do assignments, write essays, and at the same find time write lesson plans, do resources, handle extra duties?
HMMMmmm...
Why is it that mainstream school teachers with MOE get $$$ just for studying, while special education teachers have to study to continue getting $$$?
Is the work special education teachers do any easier or less meaningful than mainstream school teachers?
Why the great disparity in income... why can mainstream teachers study full-time while special ed teachers part-time... What The Hell.
Just feel like complaining.

How to do work wholeheartedly when one's mind is down?
How to study in depth when one is labouring physically?

Have utmost respect for those who work and study at the same time.

Changes

Tiring week. New developments in my gauzy life...
Just went for orientation at NIE.
Can't believe that I'll soon have to start this dual life- student and teacher.
How did my colleagues cope.
Everything just felt so surreal...
So unprepared for TP, for lectures, for exams etc...
Well. Not good.

Just read blogs of friends...
Feel the hurt and the gladness...
Changes...
Everyday unfolds something new.. new emotions, new thoughts, new doubts.
Remembered what my sis used to say "The only thing that is constant is change itself"
Indeed. Every day screams changes.

Just like what my students like to do each day.
Today, he likes to tear papers. One hour later, he wants bite through toys. He might be toppling chairs soon, or making wreck out of the radio.
Today, he likes to spit into people's hair. Later, he wants to pinch your arms, grab your legs, smack your face. He might be making the smooching sound next.
Today, he wants to pluck the plants. Soon, he wants to put his ears on the vending machine. He might be throwing a tantrum and stamping his feet later.
How do we cope, how should we react...
Today, I might decide to be nice and let them off with a frown.
Later, I might wag my finger and issue a warning.
Next, I might scream their heads off and throttle them. Verbally.

The unknown
The unpredictable
The unexpected
The unforgettable.

Guess that's why I never really liked political science.
It is current. It changes fast. It requires constant follow-up.
That's why I love history.
Its the past. Its probably not gonna change. I don't need to follow new news everyday, every hour, every minute.
I could delve into the books.
And read whenever I want. Find what I want.
History is safe.

Hmm... Not sure what I'm driving at... no coherent train of thoughts.
Changing even through the course of writing a teeny blog.
What's more, one's life?

Saw changes in friends' lives and minds.
Witnessed changes in mine.
Watched changes in my students'.

Not sure I like changes...
But like so many things in this world- beyond our will and control,
it can't be helped.

Bored fat.

Its painfully obvious I'm bored.

Still considering whether I should jog.
Jog my flabs abit.

Its not my fault, it Was raining.
Well.
I only ate a teeny bit of that chocolate.
I only finished 98% of that oily packet of rice.
I only drank a small cup of tea. Plus a little cup of soya milk.
I only consumed a small portion of dessert.

Well.

A Blog on Blobs Part 1

BLOBS
Especially on my underarms.
They refuse to disappear, they refuse to leave.
No matter how desperately I beg.
I wish so much to pinch them into oblivion!
But its not as easy as that. Damn!

I hate blobs on my arms.
They are the hardest to rid of. Whats more, training them could be dangerous.
The next thing you know, you have become a Gladiator.
Scrawny men would appreciate these loads of flabs on my arms. Those skinny men who need the mass. Those stick insects who need to take supplements.
My arms require no extra protein.
Right. I don't want to be a female wrestler.
Neither do I need a piece of flab. 2 plops of flab.
How to tone them properly then?

WHAT COULD WE DO ABOUT BLOBS UNDER THE ARMS?!

Mediocre.

"Can do better than these mediocre results"

Mr Lim once said.
The pathetic thing is, I had to look up the dictionary then to decipher his comment in my report book.
I didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted.

Fleeting Trust

Light as a feather. Floating, flickering.
Thin as a thread. Fragile, so fine.

I have no trust.
No trust in myself. No trust in others. No trust.
I couldn't trust me to do things well.
I couldn't trust me to try someting new.
I couldn't trust me as a friend.
I couldn't trust me as someone worth it.
I couldn't trust I'm not an idiot.
I couldn't trust I'm not disgustingly flabby.
I couldn't trust I'm not an irritating being
I couldn't trust I'm not a piece of crap.
I look at myself,I snigger.
I listen to myself, I laugh.
I think of myself, I cringe.

It had been so hard. To convince myself that no matter how flawed I am, I deserve to be loved.

Yet it is so easy, to shatter that glass of trust over trivial matters.


Why.
Why is my trust so brittle.

New Samsung

I Like.

Kinda Uncanny

"Just thinking why I'm thinking." quoted from JM's blog

When I was walking home from the MRT station today, I was thinking of similar stuff.
Was wondering why I started to blog abit more regularly. Was wondering whether this exercise of blogging prompted me to think more. Uncanny.
I don't remember "reflecting" and thinking about issues and things in more concrete terms.
I don't remember trying to pin down fleeting doubts and mind-boggling matters.
Whatever bothered me will dissipate after a day or two.
I made no attempts to define nor understand what/how i felt.

Now is that good or bad?
I remember my advice to people would usually be "Try not to think too much... yadda yadda"
Cos previously I found it extremely useful and comfortable to disregard problems (minor) And usually, dwelling on something only serves to make life tortuous.
So why think... too much?
So is blogging causing me to think too much?
Is blogging a deliberate action to gather and harness the worrying stuff?

BUT. Somehow, blogging has become addictive.
It has become quite enjoyable to attempt to decipher certain thoughts and scurry for appropriate vocabulary to define that particular feeling.
AND. It is as intriguing to read friends' blogs and can update myself on what is happening in their lives. Remembered this was why QY encouraged me to blog.

Digressed.

So am I thinking so that I can fill this space?
Or am I writing so that I can stop and smell the roses? Or trash.

Stirrings

Doubts swam against gravity. Upwards.
Rising from the pit of the stomach to the throat.
Choking. By choice.
A bitter taste.
Nostrils flared, snottingly. defiantly. By choice.

When I was younger, I used to think that it would be marvellous to have the ability to read people's mind.
If there was one superpower I could possess, it would definitely be mind-reading.
Now that I think of it... was I stupid or was I stupid??

Why would anyone want to read another person's mind?
Isn't one's own thoughts horrifying enough?
The clashings, lashings, bashings. Vehement, cruel thoughts. Sinister, shameful secrets. Anger, jealousy, pain, fear, melancholy...
The heart is diseased. If we would avoid physical diseases, why attempt to uncover and pursue mental, emotional sickness?
Was I inane or was i senseless?

I also cringe to think how appalled and disgusted a mind-reader would be, if he/she stumbles upon my evil thoughts.
My thoughts are my own. My fears, shame, anger are for me and me alone.
Don't leak noxious poison and fumes

What you don't know can't hurt you.
Ignorance is an absolute bliss. It protects , defends , caresses and comforts this tumultuous, weak, pathetic little mind.

Wonders

IT wondered.
It was a mystery.
What was in that mind?

What had caused the change...
so drastic, so strong.
So intense, so wrong?

IT pondered.
What was wanted, exactly?
Why the need, the fiery desire to obtain?

This bulldozer
Running over everyone in its path
Denying all protests, ignoring all stares.

It trampled.
It evoked fires of confusion
Of fear, of worry.

It raged
And fanned twirls of doubts
Of utter disbelief.

IT sought hard
to truly understand
But the smoke remained. Thick.

It choked.
And stifled in its flaming glory
to strive for more

That bottomless pit
consumed everything in fury
then said "MORE!"

It was not ITs wish
Can't be helped.
Can't be curbed.

IT ached.
For the burning to end
For it to return.

IT wondered
when will these stop,
These sorrowful combustions.

Cookie Recipe, you said?

Ingredients for Almond Cookies
1. 2kg flour
2. 400 grams almond powder(almond ground blanched)
3. 4.5 bowls corn oil
4. 3 teaspoons baking powder
5. 3 teaspoons soda powder
6. 1 packet (500g) sugar powder (icing sugar)

Method
1. Sift flour, baking powder, soda powder together
2. Mix flour, baking powder, soda powder, almond powder and suga powder.
3. Add corn oil slowly until it becomes a dough


That's the recipe i'm given... its up to you to roll, flatten, shape the dough. Size up to you too...

Some recommendations:
-The ingredients as instructed can make LOADS of cookies.. will strain hands =p
Better to halve the portion...
-can bake at 170-180 degree celsius for about 10-15 mins.

That's all.
Have fun.

Not yet tired

Just baked some cookies and waiting for them to cool.




Just showered and waiting for hair to dry.

And since I'm quite awake... sigh, might as well talk about the new hot topic in town.

This recent scandal regarding a certain "charity" organisation incurred wrath in me.
And also a sense of triumph. To a certain extent. FINALLY people could see for themselves, that this organisation does not need money. NO! Stop milking money and sympathy! But there are actually some kind and naive souls who claim that the skyhigh salary of executives/misleading public/elusive handling of funds and donating are 2 separate issues??!! So that silly fellow is willing to donate, not knowing where the money will go to? The fact is that the money is enough to last 3 decades when properly used. They can wait another 10 years before I'll consider to donate. POOF!
And patients shouldn't worry that donations don't come in. Some people, even patients fear that they won't get support.. but how.. how could that happen? With so much reserves?? Unless some sly figures in the organisation lose the money in some major MAJOR robbery. *GasP!*
OH YES, we have to consider inflation, new equpiment, more patients, oh and rising OIL prices yadda yadda yaddaa.. they have LOTS of considerations and commitments you know?! Even if all those are counted into the total expenditure, Enough is ENOUGH. Talk to my hand for the next 10 years, ABC Organistation.

I've also heard appalling and disgusting stories which revealed that they threaten not to subsidise the patients if they refused to film those pitiful footages. (Shown on TV to appeal to donors)
I've also heard that someone's Mum is suffering because there are NO VACANCIES for her treatment.
Well. THought they have room for a few thousand patients? OpPs! An oversight. Minus 1000 please. Brainstorming how to raise funds probably cause them to neglect the insignificant detail, like the number of patients.
Oh, and heard from one of ABC's staff, a certain very wealthy executive knows all the patients by name. Hmm. Hasn't he stopped to wonder where the supposed 1000 more patients went? Perhaps he has forgotten to visit them? Silly him! *giggles*

WELL.
I don't know whether to laugh or to cry. To be angry or sad?
Maybe a mixture of all those.
I seriously think some people are so THICK in the head.
Yet they are just trying to be kind. But is that kindness misplaced? Abused? Manipulated?
Something should really be done. We are not making a big fuss.
That huge sum of money is not "almond". (I can't afford to hire a lawyer.. oooh)
Not to many people who have been faithfully donating.
That brings up another issue.
Are they appealing to greed?
Enticing people to donate by offering hefty rewards?
I myself wondered, if i were the one to have won the cash prize, would i donate EVERY single cent of the money i won? Afterall, i ONLY have the patients in mind. I wouldn't be donating for the prizes, would I?
HA HA.

For now, I'm only grateful that I stopped donating 2 years ago.

Don't know what to feel.
*PLOP*
Just my heart sighing.

*No Cookies are harmed in the making of this entry.

Dry Spell. And Transport Woes.

Yes. Dry spell.
So I'm putting a photo of the view from my window.


A Misty morning.


Sometimes torrents of thoughts just flood over. But it always happens when I'm turning in, or when I'm outside. Stoning on the train.
Train...
That reminds me.
Recently spooked on a public bus.
Boarded 854 to work one morning.
In front of me is a lady, probably in her 30s or 40s.
Behind me is an old ah ma.
Bus was warm. Sigh. Think many bus drivers suffered under the hands of commuters and would love to get back at them whenever there is an opportunity.
Well. Then ah ma started to sing some.. Cantonese/Teochew/Hokkien Opera. Can't decipher dialects to save my live, unfortunately.
To add on to my bothered mind and simmering body, the lady in front of me started to pluck at something. In her hair.
Plucking real hard, like there's something stuck on her scalp.
Now I'm really starting to get sick.
She looked like she had just washed her curly locks... WHATS IN HER HAIR?! Stop plucking dirt/pimples.. whatever! in front of my face. I definitely mean it Literally. Her mysterious whatever and wet hair were near my face. I tried not to look. But i simply could not tear my eyes off her appalling act. I think she turned her head slightly once or twice. Perhaps to check if anyone had caught her in action.
YES mdm. I witnessed it. With my two horrified, traumatised eyes.

And the ah ma is still singing.(not that I have anything against people singing in public, we used to do that.. haha)combined with musty air, reluctant air-conditioners.
Odd atmosphere. And almost puke inducing. Especially the digging-at-her-hair lady.
Certain things should be done in private. Behind closed doors. PLEASE!

Sometimes, taking public transport can be so nightmarish.

I've seen cockroaches of various sizes, enjoying free bus rides. (the audacity! They should be made to purchase ezlink cards.With more profits, hopefully they'll stop having fare hikes)

I've seen a boy dig his nose on a bus and dabbing his conquests on the pole. People. Watch those poles.

I've seen a lady dig her nose in a cab. At least I didn't see her dab stuff on the seats. (that's cos my bus and her cab began to move at different pace)

I've seen a man dilligently remove oil from his face and smear it on the bus window.
Its nighttime sire, There's no need to tint your windows...

I've seen people cut their nails on the bus. JUST STOP IT.

And this one absolutely I love- my ex-colleague once saw a woman putting on lipstick on the bus. Nothing wrong. Until the bus jerked and the lipstick found its way into her nostrils. *guffaws* Classic.

Besides the hygiene problem.
I personally was haunted by loads of frustrations. Meanwhile I'm trying very hard not to burst any vessels. Not too bad lately. I have to accept the fact that I can only afford public transport. So i'll have to accept that its a public sphere, subjected to public use/abuse. I have to accept that others have different habits from myself. OH and of cos i'll have to accept the very reasonable fare hike.

So, moral of the story.
If you think that you need to go Shaolin temple or some nunnery to train and cultivate yourself, think again.
Just take the public transport everyday.

Well, seems like I do have something to complain about afterall.

I'm not selective.

Mr JM thought that I din wanna let P know that i have a blog.
*GASP*
THAT is ridiculous.
Fact is started the blog ages ago, and i never updated it.
Makes sense no one reads it.

I'm not selective.
I'm probably ... shy. Socially awkward. Yes.
Yeah. It sucks to admit it.
But... after all these years, confidence and self-esteem not exactly my forte.

Like today. I made brownies and brought them to school... wanted to show my appreciation to all those who have helped me since I've started out.. wanted to express my gratitude.. the school is really a friendly, warm place...
Unfortunately. I couldn't get the words out. I couldn't even bring myself to tell them that I've made brownies, pls help themselves.
I'm afraid that they'll think i keep publicising my own brownies.. i'm afraid the brownies aren't that nice afterall.. doubts, worries...etc etc etc etc etc...

The school has a common network. Teachers are free to share resources.
I never did. My resources, not worth sharing.

Ever since i stopped volunteering at yck on saturdays... i didn't offer help too.
Not unless i was asked.
My help. Not worth much surely.

Started to blog more. Still afraid.
What is there to read?

I believe I can look like crap but still go out to mar the cityscape.
But can I live life believe that every little effort I make is worth something ,no matter how minute?
I can't.

A Procrastinator's Magic

The papers should be in the basket. The packet of sweets don't belong there. The bottle needed to be placed at a corner. The clothes longed to be away from the dust. The clutter, the clutter!!!
With a slight movement in the brain fluids,like a magic wand working its mysterious powers, the magical hands worked.
Papers back in basket. Sweets tucked in a bag. Bottle bottled at a corner. Clothes tucked in the wadrobe.

The brain worked hard.
The mind strived.
Imagination twirled and danced.
The Procrastintor worked its magic.
The heart smiled.
In her mind, things are where they should be. Perfect. Excellent. Simply Ideal.
So, in reality, its time for the Procrastinator to rest her eyes.

She was transported back, yet again.
The papers were not in the basket!
The sweets, the bottle! More clothes?! The clutter, the clutter!!!

Like Cinderella's fairy godmother, the spell couldn't last.
The Procrastintor's magic faded. The Procrastinator's hands decided it was time to get to work. Reluctantly.
Yet her bum remained stubborn. Stubborn fixture to the mattress she called home.
Home Sweet Home.

No choice. The heart smiled. Pleadingly.
The Procrastinator waved its magic hands once again.
Imagination flitted and flirted.
No clutter. No clutter?

IT

IT fumbled. Rummaged. Searched and delved into ITs vague memories. What was happening really?
What was the hollowness? And did it really matter?
No man is an island?
Or like a friend had once commented- "We're borne alone, we'll die alone"
There was no way to know.
Tomorrow would be a new day.
In tomorrow lay hope and all the forgotten hits and misses.

Tomorrow unveiled.
The sun still rises in the east.
No one would wait for IT. Nature would continue its usual cycle, its natural miracle.
Its tragedy would only be bore by ITself.
Do not ask for more. Restrain- wish for no more. Never beg for more.
Tomorrow would be a new day.
Do not be left behind.

Tomorrow continued to unveil itself.
The sun rises in the east.
Sometimes it hides behind those white fluffy cotton.
Sometimes it is beaten by dark ominous husk.
The sun is still in the east.
Did IT see the sun?
Did it matter that IT did not see the sun?
Did it matter that only IT did not see anything at all?
Did it matter that IT remained hidden in the safe cocoon. Huddling, cuddling to the familiar soft shell?

IT looked to the sky.
IT wanted to feel the warmth and sense the yellow.
Where?
and How?
Did it really matter?
How to make it not matter, IT wondered.

IT banished all thoughts- it did not matter whether IT should be alone or whether IT could survive.
IT could not try. IT should not need a chance.
IT should not compel, IT should not torture.
Never torture.

With a wary yawn. It was time to retreat. Stretch and curl.
Into the soft cocoon IT went.
Slumber. Security.

July. Here it comes

My computer is down. Present Tense. Think the devil is the video card. I'm just grateful that its not the LCD monitor which wil cost me much more $$$ to replace.

First week of school is over. Reasonable. But appallingly and oddly tiring. Couldn't seem to wake up after the first day of school...Kids are not too bad. Just that one did not come to school for the whole week. According to his Mom, he is not able to sit properly on the chair for long and needs to lie down. According to the PT, for his condition,he is already living beyond his years. Although its more tedious when he comes, i really hope to see him next week... hope that he can survive this year... more years.. Miss his cheerfulness. He is the only one in class who never throws tantrums, never bullies teachers or classmates... just a sweet, wide-eyed boy.. or rather teenager...

Read JM and QY and Momo's blog, just to catch up. Can't rem P and XJ's blog address cos its not in my list of favourites here... It bugs me that I don't seem to be around when all those despairing things are happeneing in their lives...
And its always weird to ask them about how they felt or whether they are fine after the matter(s) is/are over... Guess when the incident or bout of unhappiness is over, its over. Fullstop. Perhaps I'm socially-awkward. Even at this ripe old age. Really dunno how to reach out to people... though my good friends would probably forgive me for my tactlessness or carelessness. Still lack courage to try. Lack courage to fail.
How i wish.
Let my greatest wish be for the well-being of my family and friends.

Anyway, just finished a book- Angels and Demons by Dan Brown. VERY intriguing and exhilarating. What an intelligent and knowlegable author. The tension between Science and religion is so intense, yet he is absolved from taking sides. What's more, the "religous speech" made by one of the priest in the book is more compelling than any other church services i've attended. Not that I'm now a believer of God. I just felt slightly ashamed for not having faith in any heavenly bodies after that speech.. whatever HE/SHE might be.

Recently. I realised that one of my tuition kid is able to express certain words better than myself. I'm fumbling. Losing it. Losing my touch. If there was any to begin with.
Aiyoh uh, time to UPGLADE liao lah.

School reopens. Soon

That is the picture of one of my students, obsessed with a puppy during one of our outings. COuld still remember that he cried when we wanted to leave.
Time to fit all of them into my mind and heart and brain once again. Cos school is gonna start! HELP.

After one whole month of bumming around, i wonder how i'm gonna psych myself for the new school term...
Sometimes i wonder whether i chose to be in this line cos i'm just not adventurous..
and
When some people commented how NOBLE this job is.. i always feel ... not up to it.
and
someimtes i feel that i'm not good enough. In fact, many times.
But still try to tell myself that i can't possibly be a brilliant teacher instantly. Maybe a few more years down the road... maybe

I just hope that i'll love them enough to be willing to go an extra mile, more miles

FOr now, maybe i should remember how adorable they are and get my butt moving to finish my admin work

Remember N, who will cling on to me on the way to toilet, on the van
Remeber N, who will poke me for the fun of it.

Remember YT, who can laugh the whole day long when he's in a good mood
Remember YT, who can make my day when he reaches his hand out to touch an apple or orange.

Remember YnT, who cries (faking it) when he doesn't get his toys.
Remember YnT, who will pat soap on his face when washing hands.

Remember WY, who giggles whenever some1 else is being scolded
Remember WY, who likes to listen to teachers gossiping

Remember H, who washes his hands clean by rubbing them against the sink. (it works, surprisingly)
Remember H, who sometimes go "oOOOH" when he sees pretty teachers or ladies

Remember WZ, who can manipulate any ball of any size
Remember WZ, who ... arghhh!!

Remember JW, who laughs so cheerfully and complains so painfully
Remember JW, whose health and life i fear for...

Please don't rebel when school starts!

Shopping!

Trying out:


Went shopping today. Or rather yesterday.
Bought a pair of shoes and a jacket. I like!
Retail therapy is simply GREAT. =)
And bumped into XJ at Topshop...in green sweater, ooh!
Enthusiasm to blog faded.
Late. Time to sleep.

Don't Know Why

Upset.
Cos i just heard news that I've got accepted by NIE. But my colleague- NO
Don't know why.
He has taught there for a longer period than me.
He is a caring, good teacher who does his best.
Don't know why.
Unless its really that piece of paper which says i have a Degree and he a Diploma
But whether one is a brilliant teacher really doesn't depend on a piece of lousy paper... Damn
Man.
If its because the cohort is smaller, i rather be the one to wait.

Have I taken anything away from him cos i joined the school?
Don't know why...

Not depressing

JM said my blog is not depressing.

oops

But i'm not ill...

elephant

I'm developing elephant thighs...
THat is definitely NOT something i am pleased about..
yet being the time-dwindler i am... i'm not really doing anything about it...
Let's not forget that I'm growing old and has less energy to do what i'd like to
I was huffing and puffing and struggling and risking bursting my lungs just to finish... 2km?
gosh
I'm developing elephant thighs
oh.. no.. actually. the elephant thighs are already in existence

Shop and (not) Save

Developed a new hobby lately- shopping at Shop n Save Supermarket at Khatib Mrt Station. Can just pop in for5 minutes on my way to work, which is enough.
I must that this spot is a tremendous improvement. There used to be only 2 small shops selling stuff at ahem... prices.

Noticed that on Tv there's some award/recognition for the top few commercials.. and SHOP n SAVE (featuring Xiang Yun and her "mother") came in second *gasp* Appalling. I can't see any merit in that commercial... though it is better than M1 any day. Well...

And by the way, I can't say that the prices offered there are the cheapest... its frustrating how some stores claim to offer discounts but prices are still more expensive.. For instance, i bought a pack of instant tea at 4plus 2 weeks ago. Yesterday, i popped into the store again- for fun- and saw that the same pack of instant tea cost $5.70. *gasp!* Good thing i bought it earlier... And the irritating thing is... the prices are never stated on the shelves. There, the price tags often state- "temporarily out of stock" when the items are obviously there. Miss those trusty, old-fashioned white/yellow price tags which don't lie...

And yes i can't guarantee that i can save at Shop n SAVE... since the prices can only magically appear through scanning the barcode at the cashier ( temporarily out of stock?) Its really up to your luck most of the time. ALSO... i tend to succumb to the temptations of the delicious display of stuff.. which i may not need. How to save huh?!
Well. Retail therapy applies to groceries and toiletries. Absolutely.

Despite the cons of shopping there, it does offer some sort of relaxation, especially on a hot day! (i salute the air-conditioning!)
So while my paycheck forbid a tai-tai lifestyle, i shall be contented to be an auntie. For the time being.

Responsibilty I

RESPONSIBLITY
what a heavy-weight word it is... and how it swells with age. Mental age that is.
Responsibility eludes me despite the passing of time...
"New" resolution- stop procrastinating (what's new???) and assume more responsibilities. yuck.
But there's really no room for choice, is there?
Sigh
Major Sigh
must change, must change...