I'm All Alone!

I cannot believe. I really, fucking cannot believe it. I'm actually spending New Year's Eve alone. Ok, I'm at home with the 'renz (parents) but they don't count. I'm freaking alone. Alone, alone, alone. The darkness! The solitude! It's all closing in!

*sulk* Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why? *sulk* Super BLLLEAAAGGHHH mood right now. This just reeks of pathetic-ness. Ah, the grand downfall of a social life. So young, so bright! SO GONE.

Sobz, I'm freaking bored out of my mind. The last weekend before the new year and I'm at home. Want to hear something more pathetic? My dad bought me the ipod nano for Christmas and up till now, I still can't use it. I tried. Fadz tried. My dad tried. There's something wrong with the program. I must be the only person in the world who's that suay. Sigh.

(Not so) Happy New Year to all you assholes lucky people who have parties to go to tonight. What a Brilliant (not) start to the new year. *sulk*

The Christmas Orgy

I'm still recovering from all that fun and debauchery conducted over the Christmas period... oh my poor aching belly. Yup, I went on a massive food orgy and my expanded waistline speaks for it. Sigh, starvation city here I come.

The mad indulgence began on Thursday because my mum fanatically proclaimed it Winter Solstice Day and therefore any Chinese worth his Ba Kwa had to celebrate with good food. That meant a trip down to Holland V for some lovely La Mian and Xiao Long Bao. Slurpz!

Friday was rather uneventful due to me having volleyball. But breaking from tradition (i.e. no eating after training cos it's freaking 11pm and therefore bad), we went for drinks, which degenerated quickly into a mini food fest comprising of fries, rojak and fried carrot cake. Sigh...

Saturday morning brought about Christmas eve, and that meant time with the Fadz man! My poor baby has been stuck on freaking Jurong Island doing guard duty. Bless his darling soul; Singapore is safe because of boys dressed in military gear patrolling the island on machine-gun bound jeeps. Through rain, shine and sleet. We checked into Orchard Parade Hotel for some R & R and I must say, the hotel is... let's just say I preferred Gallery Hotel 2 to 1. The room smelt funny and the bath robes were HAPPY ROBES. They were lime green and had palm trees. Sheeesssshhh.

Didn't take many photos. We tried exploring Orchard Road while scavaging for a late dinner, but beat a hasty retreat into Wheelock Place because Orchard Road went mad. I mean it literally. People were engaging in faux snowwars. I saw this fat ah lian (and fat being used very objectively) suddenly attack this scrawny boy for no apparent reason other then to cause mayhem. He stood stunned for a moment, called his kakis over, and the 6 of them counter-attacked the ah lian with their cans. Well hahaha, that must have been fun. And of couse, the foreign workers were out in force. It did seem rather creepy the way they stood on the streets and randomly attacked girls with their spray cans.

We ate at Fish and Co and topped it off with Ben & Jerry's ice cream. More reason to hit the gym.... But it was damn, damn good.... sigh, if only food didn't come with all that calories... a lot of people would be so much happier.

Christmas morning was a blur because a) we slept late b) I had to rush down to Oriental Hotel for the family Christmas brunch, despite my belly groaning from all that food. But looking back, I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Oriental Hotel recently underwent renovation and the place is now very, very posh.

The plush rugs, the hushed, austere atmosphere, and the high, over-arching ceilings were a delightful way to spend the Christmas morning. Oh yeah, and the great food of course. There were lobsters and oysters, turkey and roasted baked ham, chocolate fountains and small, bite-size desserts in a myriad of flavours that left me breathless. Ok, part of the breathlessness came from overeating and me wanting to hurl.. but that's another story. I felt like a kid looking at all the desserts. Oh yeah, and I went a little crazy over the sashimi table. I swear I could almost taste sea water.

But the nicest surprise was the people. The waiters and maitre-d were so courteous and seemed genuinely happy to serve us. They played with the children, and there was even a Santa Claus and his Santarinas going around to give candy to the children. They were polite, attentive and helpful. Now, if only more of Singapore restaurants were like this.

But did the gluttony end there? NO. My sec school class was having a Christmas dinner celebration and I had to show face. And of all the stupid things, they had to choose a steamboat. I met up with Pei Wen and Jing Yi but when we got to Marina and found out who was present, the urge to meet up diminished in a poof. So we hotfooted over to Bugis for our own celebration. Surprise, surprise, they still wanted to eat steamboat and helplessly, I followed.

Really, we are such camera whores.

Meet Blacky and Tweety.

Stare into my eyes... you are getting sleepy, sleepy...

Food... oh god... so much food...

The stomach has a separate compartment for dessert, or so they claim. Even after taking a slow walk from Bugis to Raffles Place to calm our stomachs, I wanted to bend over the railing and dispose of everything in my stomach into the Singapore River. Wisely, I managed to hold it back in.

When I thought I could finally rest on Boxing Day, my mum decides that Boxing Day is equally important and therefore should be celebrated. With more food. After forcing me to play mahjong the whole afternoon when all I wanted to do was lie on my bed and groan, my mum and sis dragged me to Westmall for some Sakae Sushi. I swear, I must have turned slightly green.

Man, some weekend, eh?

12 Days of Christmas

On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

12 beaten children

11 drive-by shootings

10 frozen homeless

9 amputations

8 burn victims

7 strangled shoppers

6 random knifings

5 suicides

4 beaten wives

3 O.D.'s

2 shattered skulls

and a drunk who drove into a tree.

Merry Christmas people! Song courtesy of Scrubs. Hiak hiak hiak. Don't you think this version better reflects the nature of today's society?

Joanne On A War Path

Aargh, I've had it with that bloody bank. I'm going into an apoplectic fit. This experience has certainly been an eye-opener at how 2-faced, backstabbing, inefficient an organization can be. If you dunno which bank I'm talking about, well, I can't say. Later kana sued. But anyway...

I just feel so screwed over by them. From an exclusive program, this experience has degenerated into a simple internship. I've sold my soul and it is just another internship experience.

And the worse thing is, I only found out about it being confirmed as an internship (nothing was set; we've been badgering the bank forever to not label it as an internship and they said they'd try) by checking On-Trac. They didn't even have the courtesy to tell us that it has been confirmed. And they extended the dateline from the previously agreed upon date by another month. Which means I can't do a proper internship because no one would hire me for such a short period of time. Aargh, one year down the drain. And I would have to find some dreary temp job to finance my SEA trip.

The original grand vision was for the 4 of us (Jolly, Crotch, Salad and Me) to take on a managerial role. We had clearance from the President of the bank to be wholly involve from the ground up, everything from the framework to the marketing etc.

But employment in banks is incredibly fluid. The originator of this whole program was head-hunted to another bank, taking with her the grandiose vision. People joined and left due to a lack of interest. We were assigned this half-baked newbie who sees himself as the man in-charge and us really merely students on an internship. We weren't even informed of the budget until today. And the dateline for the product launch is coming ever closer. Bastard, I asked and reasked and he had always hemmed on the issue. Today, I finally forced it out of him, and the budget is TINY. FREAKING TINY. After all the marketing plans, I think we have to cut back on certain ideas. Great, all those hours of planning down the proverbial TAMADE drain.

Jolly is on a rampage. He feels that we have been screwed, but in some sense, I wonder if he is thinking logically. He always keeps reminding me to be logical and not emotional but in this scenario, I keep having this feeling that his pride has been bruised and he's on a personal vendetta.

In a small way, I do respect his "change the world" vision. Maybe he truly will be at the top of his game someday. Because he thinks that he can bend all rules.

But I'm a realist. I've learnt to accept certain facts such as old guards and immovable objects. But I also make the best of out it. You give me constraints, I do the best damn job possible. Yes, you may scoff at me for not trying to change the way things are, but sometimes, you just need to get over yourself and your damn ego, get things done, and move on. At the rate Jolly is going, taking 2 hours to argue about some bank practice and past casual conversations and devoting only 40 minutes to actual discussion about the project, I feel is stupid and unnecessary. Is it possible to admire someone while at the same time, think of that person as the biggest arsehole in the world?

At one point this year, I felt I could never work with men EVER AGAIN. I got screwed by this narcissistic fucker during my marketing project. He thought of all of us (the girls in the group) as fucked-up stupidoes and whatever work we did, he redid it to his pleasing. The entire project was his creation. And he had the guts to throw a tantrum at our perceive lack of involvement. Crotch and Salad have returned to India for the entire holidays. Yup, it's just me and Jolly doing the shit work. And now Jolly is turning into this avenging nightmare who sees me as secondary and holds secret phone calls with the bank's top people without my knowledge. Fuckers, fuckers, fuckers. Every last one of them. I wish some male would come along and restore my faith in the Neanderthal species.

On a side track, Jolly irritated the hell out of me today. We went for lunch and he claimed he wasn't hungry, only ordering a bottle of mineral water. When my fish and chips arrived, I did the polite thing and asked if he wanted any. He got another fork and DUG IN. He started to cut the fish up into messy pieces, dumped it all in tartar sauce and ignored the fact that in polite society, you usually don't touch the other person's food until that person has made the first move. He ate all my coleslaw and had no qualms about crossing forks with me over a french fry. Gawd, if I had people like him around whenever I was on a diet, I would be reed thin by now.

Like I said, fuckers, every last one of them.

Movie Ramblings

Went on a movie binge this weekend. Watched Perhaps Love and King Kong. Loved the first, indifferent to the second.

How can any living, breathing, heterosexual female be immuned to the utterly delectable and swoon-worthy Takeshi Kaneshiro? His beauty is so awe-inspiring that he puts most women to shame. Everytime his expressive eyes looked into the camera, I felt him gazing straight at my rapidly beating heart. *Sniff* I love love love love Jin Cheng Wu.

The movie was pretty good too. It's like 2046, just less ramblings and confusing imagery. A straight-forward love story. Jacky Cheung's singing was brilliant, as usual, but next to his operatic antics, Takeshi and Zhou Xun's wispy singing were a little disconcerting. Like mice next to a lion's roar.

Haha, at the end of the movie, I could see the women all looking a little wistful, and the men, just bored. Fadz slept through most of the show; he only woke up when Jacky Cheung started singing. Oh well.

Cut to King Kong, and you get the other end on the beauty spectrum. Dear old Kong was beautifully CGI-ed, but an ugly beast is an ugly beast.

The show was ok; nothing spectacular aside from the CGI and special effects. After the 9-minute fight between Kong and the 3 dinosaurs, it's pretty much just Naomi Campbell screaming her pretty little head off.

Sure, sure, there are the messages of how greed corrupts and how humans can be so cruel, but let's face it, how many people can really see past the roaring gorilla who crashes cars and whatnot and say hey, let's not kill that bugger.

But then again, I did get rather teary-eyed when Kong died. Must be all those shots of its emotive eyes looking at Naomi Campbell, as if saying It's Ok, Don't Cry Anymore.

Haha, spent my 3 1/2 year anniversary getting weepy over a CGI gorilla. I can hardly wait to see what I do on my next anniversary.

Oh yeah, as a side note, I think it's so bloody irritating that people keep asking me when I'm getting married to Fadz. Yes, haha, funny the 1st million times, but when random schoolmates I meet on the streets see me with Fadz and ask about marriage, NOT SO FUNNY ANYMORE. Yes, 3 1/2 years may seem like an eternity, but enough is enough. When we get married, I'd tell the whole world, ok? Or maybe, we'd just run off to Vegas and do a Britney Spears. Sheesh.

The results of your analysis say:

You plan ahead, and are interested in beauty, design, outward appearance, and symmetry.
You are a shy, idealistic person who does not find it easy to have relationships, especially intimate ones.
You are diplomatic, objective, and live in the present.
You are not very reserved, impatient, self-confident and fond of action.
You are self-confident and like to bring attention to yourself.

What does your handwriting say about YOU?

Yay, finally something that says I'm shy, shy shy! I really am ookkaaayyyyyyyy.... teeheehee...

But WTF, how can I be shy and self-confident at the same time? Sheesh.

Shopping Madness

Orchard Road is absolutely heinous. It is so crowded it even feels stuffy outdoors. So many people pushing, shoving, squeezing, rushing.... aarrgggghhh!!!! And people are seriously lacking in Christmas spirit. Sheesh, you would think that with year-end bonuses Singaporeans would stop being so uptight.

Anyway.

Walking Orchard both yesterday and today for a gazillion hours looking for presents, and I'm glad I'm finally done. I'm not really a materialistic person, but somehow, buying branded goods is such a thrill. Walking into Tiffany's (didn't buy), Kate Spade (bought!), Furla (bought!) and looking and running my hands over their beautiful bags and accessories is wonderful. Really, really wonderful. Pity such extravagance only comes once a year, but all the greater the appreciation. Hehehehehe....

Wah, my feet ache like hell. Off to rest my precious feet and watch some tv.

Oh yeah, trying to buy a nice pair of flat sandals. Anyone has good recommendations? No Charles and Keith or Far East, please.

Gallery Hotel Is Da Bomb!

Damn, but our stay was too short. The staff was so polite and friendly I wanted to wept. Everywhere we went, from the bellboy to the chambermaid, they greeted us with a smile and salutation. Ah, good service in Singapore, how lovely. Oh oh, and the best part was that "tipping is discouraged in Singapore". That's new to me. I wanted to tip the bellboy, but he came, he put down our bags, and hopped out so quickly I couldn't even reach for my wallet.

Chilling out in the hotel lobby. They're into the whole minimalist, clean deco.

Every moment is an opportunity for a photo!

Our room! Oh yeah, didn't photograph the pillow fight that erupted the moment we saw the cute and colourful cushions... Hehehe...

Smile for the camera!

The Infinity Pool. Very, very pretty when the sun is up. The glass catches the light and would reflect a rainbow of colours.

Me and Kristin in the pool! Stupid Sylvia is scared of pools... and it was only 1.4m deep....

All cosy and cute! There was this guy behind us who stared when we cuddled up! Aiyah, he's gay. I mean, why would 2 adult males check into a hotel, right? Yeah, there was quite a few gays hanging out.

Getting ready for a girls' night out

More photo whoring

Brewerkz for dinner. Freaking expensive, but the portions are huge and the food is great!

Mmmm, nachos!

Burp! Nothing like a good pint of beer

My Cowboy burger

Sylvia's Fish and Chips

Kristin's BBQ combo

Feeding frenzy time!

And all that unfinished food. How utterly sinful. But it really was too much... Don't believe? Look at my face...


And more pictures taken at a bridge along Clark Quay. It's really pretty with the lights at night and the restaurants that line the river.

We walked all the way to Chinatown(!!!!) in search of KTV. Yes, in heels. Women are strange, strange creatures.

The only photo I managed to snap before my camera ran out of battery. Oh well.

We wanted to go clubbing after ktv but we were just too tired and like old ladies, settled onto our bed and drifted off to sleep. No, it was not a pleasant experience. I was stuck in the middle and the 2 idiots were giving off so much heat I thought I was running a fever. So some time in the middle of the night, according to the two of them anyway, I pushed them to the edges of the bed. Hiak hiak.

So fun, so fun, so fun! We needed more time! Buutttt, it's back to reality... sigh....

Bye Bye Peasants!

Toodles people, for I am about to leave for my little R&R escapade with one Sylvia Huang and one Kristin Chan at The Gallery Hotel. Hehehehe... as Kristin says it, "it's one big orgy!". And yes, she's sleeping on the floor. Hah!

Will take incriminating photos and try to destroy the reputations of my dear friends. *Air kisses*

Happy Days Are Here Again! (Almost, Almost...)

Yay! Exams are officially oovvvveeerrrr bbbaaabbbyyyy! Ok, I still have one more psych paper to write... *Deep sigh* But I bought underwear today! Pretty underwear makes people happy, no?

The exams have been quite the bitch this semester. Finance was the shocker, seeing how all his previous tests and mid term were rather easy. When I saw the problem questions I did a silent prayer. *Deeper sigh*

Business Processes paper took place this morning. While people were probably trying to frantically remember formulas and shit, I was busy primping. Hey, if you have to face the execution squad, you might as well look good at it.

See, wake up early to put on make-up. I'm hopeless. And I didn't even have any plans to go out.

Oh, it's growing late, am I going to make it to school in time? Oh well, who cares, pose one more time first. (my sis sent me to school in a cab.. so anyway...)

The exam was ok lah... Probably made mistakes I shouldn't have, but what is new, right? Even the prof isn't foolproof. At the nth minute, one of my classmates discovered a mistake (ok, we all spotted the anormaly but couldn't care enough to ask about it) and he changed the content of the question, forcing everyone to redo. *asshole*

But the day got better because I got back my Mind, Brain and Society (a psych course) paper.

Yeah, topic close to my heart. *laughs*

But more importantly...

Handed in the paper late and got the marks deduction... *bleah* But still, considering how I was like "Screw it", that's a pretty decent grade... *happy dance*

Don't you just hate professors who can write properly to save your eyes? And that man was writing in CAPS! sheesh...

Why Oh Why...

This semester has been surreal. I almost feel like a 3rd part spectator, watching as Miss Joanne Chan falls into a pit of heck-care, don't give a fuck, self-wallowing despair. Really. I feel like I've learnt nothing and even more scarily, I don't seem to give a shit.

My grades stink. My projects were spastic. I hated some team mates and teachers probably thought of me as the proverbial airhead. If you were speaking to the Joanne of old, I would probably be hyperventilating. Ignomity in school is such a tragedy. But I've reached such a stage that I really, really, don't care.

My exams start tomorrow. This entire study week has been a farce; I slept away most of the time and my waking consciousness was spent in front of the tv or laptop. And on Friday, when normal people would be panicking, I was busy gorging myself silly on food and ktv-ing. Yup, I was supposed to go to school for a bonus, "optional" (ie last minute) lesson that my psych prof concocted. I woke up, got ready, and decided not to attend class.

More brilliantly, I psycho-ed Sylvia into not going as well and we ended up going to City Hall for a BK breakfast. After that, we swore we would go and study Finance. We spent the whole time in the library booking our short holiday. (FYI, we decided to go with Gallery Hotel instead cos it's cheaper... and Coco Latte is just downstairs!)

In the afternoon, I met the KB gang (after like 2-3 mths hiatus) for lunch at Kenny Rogers. Then we karaoked for 6 hours. Finished the utterly sinful day with dinner at Crystal Jade (xiao long baos! I could have wept with joy).

So you see, my academic life is falling apart and I just can't bring myself to go pick up the pieces. If anyone wants to save my condemned soul, it is about time you appeared to shake me into a caring mode.

Alright, off to play games. Might as well enjoy my degeneration.

Mood: Blah

It's finally dawned on me that happy mood makes for poor blogging. Really. Ok, so I'm not exactly in a great mood (exams in less than a week and I've done no studying!), but a truly good blog entry (in my opinion, anyway), comes from angst. No angst, no creativity juice. Cos no one wants to read about happy (boring) stuff. In some sense, we're all perverted masochists who delight in reading other people's misery just so that our pathetic lives are justified. Hiak. Going off on another judgment crusade.

Oh yeah, I've quit Ventures, in case anyone cares. I've finally gotten sick of all the Indians in the club. Come to think of it, the Chinese were pretty sickening as well. I think it's just the club. The vibe in it was virile with the disease of self-preservation and the need for selfishness. I was truly depressed just being associated with such a loser club. I hope it crumbles. Yuck. And Shashank, if you harbour hopes of ever making it in the real world, please stop shoving your head up your ass and imagining it to be the best place in the universe. Seriously, it's time you took stock of how utterly hated and mocked at you are.

Back to pretending to study. Oh, and I can't wait for 3rd December. Syl, Kris and I are checking into the Shangri-La Rasa Sentosa for some well-deserved (?) R & R. Sun, sand, sea and hopefully half-naked pool boys to serve our every needs! Fadz is not gonna be pleased... :)

P.S.: Heh, I know, how random. My 3 1/2 yr anniversary with the Fadz man is coming soon. I need gift ideas! Help, help, help!

- If you were a cartoon character, what would you be like?
the animated version of Jessica Simpson

- Can you do anything freakish with your body?
twist my neck really quickily for that satisfying snap

- What feature do you find most attractive on girls/guys?
toned arms

- Would you vote for a woman candidate for president?
heck yeah

- Would you marry for money?
nah, the rich ones tend to need extramarital affairs

- Have you had braces?
No and I begrudge every moment

- Do you wear lip gloss?
Used to. Now it's just lip balm and glossy lipstick

- Do you sing in the shower?
Duh! Of course! everytime a song gets in my head.

- Do you play any sports?
Volleyball, bowling (I strike occasionally!)

- Could you live without a computer?
Nope, she's my baby girl!

- Do you use AOL, MSN, Yahoo?
only MSN

- If so, how many people are on your list?
Dunno, plenty of random people

- If you could live in any past, where would it be?
And be without air-con? Clean water? My laptop? No way, no hell

- Do you wear white socks?
No, too high-school

- Do you wear shoes?
Mizuno for volleyball, fake adidas for rainy days, Birkenstocks when I'm lazy and heels for everything else.

- What is your favorite fruit?
Seedless grapes. I eat them by the bunches.

- Do you eat wheat bread or white?
Anything will do. Just none of that gross kind with fruits and nuts in them. (shudder)

- What is your favorite place to visit?
New York, damn but it's lovely. Central Park! MTV!

.- Fav DVD?
Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Bite me, Angel, bite me.

- Do you kiss on the first date?
No, I'm really a shy, Catholic girl

Are you photogenic?
Hardly. A sad tragedy

- Do you dream in color or black and white?
Colour, full colour

- What are you wearing right now?
Abercrombie shirt and flower shorts

- Do you eat a lot of fruit?
only if someone cuts for me (Mum!)

- Do you have dimples?
Yes, and if I smile very widely, I have 4

- Do you remember being born?
If I did you would have read about it by now

- Do you drink alcohol?
Yeah, but I'm trying to stop.

- Do you like high school?
yes! yes! yes! best moments of my life!

What is the best accent?
British. Or whatever Orlando Bloom is spouting

- Do you like sunsets?
yup, tres romantic

- Do you want to live to be 100?
No, I rather die than get wrinkly

- Do you or have you played with a ouija board?
Nah, I'm a chicken, remember?

- Are you loyal?
Fiercely, until you screw me over. Then you better duck for cover, bitch!

- Are you tolerant of other peoples beliefs?
yup, every day of my life is now about acceptance, not just tolerance

- Is music your life?
Quite, I get a kick out of freakishly being able to name someone's entire playlist just by listening

- Do you like scary movies?
only if I can scream from behind my eyes and not get laughed at

- Do you think you can draw well?
like a monkey, maybe

- At what age did you find out that Santa Clause wasn't real?
can't remember. just one of those things that were never very important

- How many pairs of shoes do have in your closet?
dunno. 20 over?
- Do you like to wear the same shoes everyday?
nope, doesn't always match my ensemble

- Do you write poetry?
only if you like cheesy rhymes

- Snore?
nope, i swear i don't!

- Do you sleep more on your back, front, or sides?
neither. i'm always on my stomach

- Do you like Cats/Dogs?
Cats, cats! aww, so cute and mean!

- Do you lick stamps?
yuck, can you say gross!?

- Do you use an electric can opener?
No, i'm old-fashion brute strength

- Have you ridden in a hot air balloon?
no, but one day... one day...

- Like your name?
yup, especially when someone is saying it sexily into my ears *hiak hiak*

- Were you named after anyone?
nope, i was named after me
- Do you wish on stars?
stars, moon, sun, clouds. anything to make my life better

- Which finger is your favorite?
index finger. that's where the ring is going

- When did you last cry?
2 days ago. when cedric diggory died. sigh..

- What is your favorite band?
platinum diamond from Tiffany's... haha!

- Who do you admire?
the president's wife. smart move snaring him all those years ago. i also want to be first lady!

- What is the 1 priority in your life?
staying positive
- What is your favorite day of the week?
friday nights!

I Hate My Life (Just This Few Weeks)

I've just fucking reached home. Been in school since 10am doing my stupid project, and it's still not done!!!!!!! I even missed dinner and it's still not complete! We are the most incompetent and slow assholes in the world!

I've never stayed so late in school before, mainly because it's so damn expensive to take a cab!

And the craziest thing is that when we left, there were still a lot of people making tons of noise in the school. Bloody assholes, no home to go home too ah? *fume* *rage*

And the security guards can't even be bothered to chase people out anymore. As we stumbled out of the life looking for the exit, the bored security guard just pointed his thumb at the glass door. Guess he does that a lot. Yeah, one of the worse jobs in the world, FIY, night shift security guard ranks waaayyy up there.

Then we didn't know where to get a cab, cos mostly curb surrounds the school. So we ran from street to street like bloody idiots. Yup, just two hysterical broods causing havoc as usual...

Sigh, and I still have a paper to write and submit tomorrow. How, how, how? How to complete? And it's already late... sheeshhh... I hate this semester, how I wish it would just end now... :(

Embarrassement and Joy

I think I'm going bonkers. Going to school on Sunday tends to drive people nuts. Anyway, I was walking to school and listening to the radio. Thinking I was alone (I crossed the road alone what!), I started to hum along to the radio. Suddenly, T.A.T.U's song "All About Us" came on and I started SINGING. At the chorus, I sang ALOUD.

Then my spider sense tingled. Turning around, I saw Andre (this cute half-breed from my tech class) smiling at me. Sheesh. Talk about embarrassment. At least he was gentlemenly enough to pretend nothing happened and struck up a conversation with me. Amen to that.

So what's my joy? I got all my bids for next sem! No more nights of worrying!! No more harrassment and fear! Ok, so I overbidded on the courses, but what the hell, at least I can sleep at night.

Let's Go... South-East Asia!

It is finally materializing; my dreams of travelling the world. For the past year, a few friends and I have been floating the idea of backpacking around the world. To soak up in the local culture, to see the ruins of ancient civilizations, to be away from civilization (well, the Singaporean materialistic-concept of civilization)... Yes, yes, I can't wait.

The original plan was to backpack Europe, but due to serious money constraints, we have set our sights lower: South-East Asia. Skipping Malaysia (duh, lack of culture), we should be visiting Thailand, Myanmar, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam. Within a month.

For a while, I was a little skeptical over the possibility of the trip materializing. But for some reason, Fadz has renewed his interest and has launched into intensive research for the project. And I feel completely assured because he can be so damn anal when he wants to be. He's even thinking of making a map to show all the available routes.

I can't wait. To truly rough it out, move away from the sanitized Western-influenced world... Exciting! Wish me luck!

Bastard

Bidding for the next semester has begun. Guess who deigned to lower his superior self and msn me?

A: Hello dear

A: Did you get assigned Ethics? Which group?

Me: Grp 4

A: Damn, I'm in Gp 5

A: Good luck

A: Bye!

Motherfucker. Only know how to use people for personal gains. If I was in the same class I also wouldn't want to do project with you. You think you really can manipulate people to suit your needs? You really think you can tie up your designated project mates so that you are constantly surrounded by your minions?

Go fuck yourself lah, seriously. Thank God I am also a manipulative female and can fake a smile whenever I see you. Otherwise, the real me just wants to spit in your face and laugh at your hypocrisy. I'm not your freaking puppet, so don't cross my path.

CB asshole.

Selamat Hari Raya!

Busy, busy, week. Tests, assignments, papers and projects all culminating in a big crush to destroy my sanity. Everything is due. Nothing is completed. Compounded with that fact that I'm down with the freaking flu... Yup, just another ordinary week as an SMU student.

Just took a cab to school on a SATURDAY for morning makeup lessons. Will be followed by another long day of project meetings. Supposed to be holiday week right? Wrong. I've been back to school everyday single, motherf**king day of the week. Deepavali: Project. Hari Raya: Lessons and Project. I have a right to be this bitter. *sniff sniff*

On a happier note, I managed to squeeze in a visit to Fadzli's house on Hari Raya. The highlight: his mother's amazing good food, of course! Erm, didn't take any pictures, cos it's a bit difficult explaining to his mum that I wanted to showcase her food on the web and make people jealous. But people, imagine beef rendang, sambal sotong, chilli chicken, lontong, cornflake cookies, chocolate chip cookies, kueh lapis, muruku... yup, you get the idea.

Me with the Fadz Man. His bro was going for artistic (?) angle.

Meet the family. Yup, cheesy grin!

The grandchildren. And that's only the maternal side. It's crazy man. I have like 2 cousins can!

My fave little cousin! Fariz is crazy! Usually, he likes to smile. But due to unfortunate circumstances (he lost his front teeth), he's looking kinda glum. I adore Fariz. So bloody cute and naughty. At one point, he was sitting quietly in one corner. Fadz prodded him and made him kiss me. Waaahhhh... Heart melt.

Another crazy cousin. Looks girly, but acts like a boy. Seriously, she could whoop your ass.

Yeah, never take a lot of photos. Although I must say when they went through the ritual of asking for forgiveness, I felt very emotional. His grandma was crying and the older folks all looked so solemn. The grandkids were all just heeha-hahaing. So much for tradition.

Sigh, can't wait for next year.

Fire, Fire, Burning Bright

What a smoking good way to start the day.

When I woke up at 6am this morning, I was expecting such an exciting morning. It started off normally enough; one of my course modules requires us to play this game for a project, and the bloody freaking game runs for 24 hours. So my group mates and I are going hardcore; we pull grave yard shifts (think 3am) just to record changes and react to situations. Sigh.

Anyway, when I went to the kitchen to scavage for some breakfast, everything seemed as it should be. But 15 minutes later, when I went out of my room again, the first thing that hit my was that the living room was damn smokey.

Alarmed, I stuck my head out of the living room window but there was no smoke. I ran to the kitchen and lo and behold, smoke was belching from the roof. The wind was blowing the smoke into my kitchen, causing the whole place to become dense with smoke.

And so I did what any independent, 20-year old would do: I ran and called my dad.

My dad took stock of the situation and called 995. Miraculously, we heard the sirens 2 minutes later, but for some reason, the fire engine truck never appeared. My dad called again, and the people insisted that they were on their way.

Somehow, my dad figured out that the roof wasn't on fire; the fire was coming from the rubbish chute. Another reason why we girls can't do without our daddies. He ran downstairs to check it out, and by this time, my mum had jumped out of bed and grabbed the important documents (yes, the paranoid mum rules the day).

We ran downstairs (sans documents) once my dad called back to say that the firemen were here and putting out the fire.

Apparrently, some asshole had thrown a cigarette butt down the chute. And in case you're wondering, it's a fairly common occurance, with up to 15 cases a month. I've stayed here for 20 years and it's the first time this has happened. I hope the offender burns in eventually hell. It's only poetic justice for what he had caused.

But what amazed me even more was that nobody noticed the smoke. Hello, people on the 2nd floor, can't you tell that your rubbish chute was emitting smoke, and the area felt uncomfortably hot? You had to wait until the people on the highest floor to notice that the air vent on the roof was belching smoke before some action was taken? Idiots. They deserved to burn in hell for their stupidity, or lack of concern.

Highlight of the whole event: the 2 Malay firemen that came were quite cute. FIY, they came blazing through the streets on shining white motorcycles. Damn cute. And no, I do not have a thing for Malays, ok! I have a thing for all cute guys! *maligned* Shiny bikes, uniforms (yes, I do have a thing for men in uniforms; more manly what), what's there not to like?

And it didn't hurt that by the time the whole debacle was over, it was already too late to attend my morning class. Leisurely eating breakfast with the folks is a nice change from the usual gulping of whatever is available to fill tummy. And back to bed I went after breakfast. Teeheehee.

Ahem, the moral of this event is, if I see anyone of you lighting a cigarette in front of me, I might turn violent. Smoking kills, especially when coupled with stupidity. And in the race of survival of the fittest, the dumb ones just have to go. As a superior being higher up in the food chain than such smoking idiots, it's my duty to keep the balance in check. Hah. So don't give me reason to do harm. Either that, or your body will take care of the dirty deed by killing you from the inside. So don't be stupid, don't smoke ok?

How Much Is My Blog Worth?

More useless information. I should really stop crawling the net for banal stuff.

My blog is worth $2,822.70.
How much is your blog worth?

Bah, that's miserable. Xiaxue's blog is worth $1,918,871.46. No competition at all.

How do my friends compare? Check this out:

Charlotte: $0 (whoops!)

Pei Wen: $1,129.08

Jing Yi: $0 (alamak!)

Amanda: $0

Shawn: $564.54

Eng Teck: $9,597.18 (phwoah!)

Cheryl: $2,258.16

SarongPartyGirl: $620,429.46

Ok, enough of this nonsense.

Blogging Because I Don't Want To Do Work

Is this true?

Your Brain's Pattern

You have a dreamy mind, full of fancy and fantasy. You have the ability to stay forever entertained with your thoughts. People may say you're hard to read, but that's because you're so internally focused. But when you do share what you're thinking, people are impressed with your imagination.

What Pattern Is Your Brain?

Sigh, I'm definitely overblogging, it's like an obsession, or exhibitionist streak, that keeps bringing me back to write and write. LOL.

Oh yeah, I've made my first enemy (that I know of) at SMU. After class today, Kris, Syl and I were looking for a GSR to sit down and do our work. Since all the rooms were booked (damn those kiasu people who block book!), I remembered that the Volleyball Club had block booked a room for its players to use. Without really checking the bookings, we barged into the room and kicked out the person. And he was so apologetic.

For some reason, he decided to stick around outside the room. 15 minutes later, this girl walked in and said that she booked the room. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the volleyball bookings only began 1 hour later. We excused ourselves and as we walked past the person we had ousted (gleefully, I might add), he DIAOED me. Seriously, I'm not shitting you. The venomous glare he aimed at me was so cutting I almost felt like running away shamefaced.

Let's hope he doesn't recognize my face. Later he download my picture from OASIS and shoot darts at it. Or he circulate amongst his friends that there this BEEYOTCH who pretends to book rooms and kick out people who, although also not the rightful user of the room, had the rights to the room for being there first. Sianzzzz....

I'm Finally Paid!!!!!

Finally, after God knows how many freaking months, OCBC has paid me. It may not exactly be a windfall, but enough for me to rush out immediate and do some shopping. *Gloat* Am now the proud owner of yummy skirt and lacy top from Esprit. *More gloating*

In case you think I'm flowing cash out of my nose, let me clarify that I did the responsible thing and gave half the amount to my Dad to pay for part of my laptop. *Sniff* I should have just kept quiet. Ah well.

And of course, the money came in handy at the right moment because my freaking volleyball shoes TORE. Yes, after 5 arduous years, the fibres have given way and the sole has detached itself. Bought my new volleyball shoes yesterday, together with brand, new spanking knee pads! I know you people may have no idea why the heck I'm so excited, but buying new stuff always rules!

Although, I'm officially on the reserve team, so that kinda sucks. Oh well, since I'm next in line, all I can do is hex one of my team mates so that she sprains an ankle or something, hence allowing me to take my place on the court in my new shoes. Muahahahahhaha.

Aiyah, as if I'm so evil, meh?

My Deadliest Sin

I really believe that my worst sin is sloth. For the uneducated and uninformed (Haha!), the seven deadly sins are Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Lust, Anger, Greed and Sloth. Ok, so I embody all the 7 sins. I think for the Lust factor alone, I've already been sent to the deepest bowels of hell. Like some of my "friends" might say, "You're damn hiao", "You 'ho", and those are my friends. But that's another story.

Lately, all I want to do is curl up on my bed and sleep the day away. I may wake up occasionally to eat, bathe and perhaps catch up on a few good books (Am reading The Quiet American, great book!), but otherwise, the lovely, dark coccoon known as MY ROOM simply beckons. It's deep, dark recesses (thanks to thick curtains) and cool surroundings (had my air-con serviced; bloody cold now) make for the best place on earth to spend my time. Really.

Every morning is a struggle to get up from the comfy warmth of my sheets and comforter. Even after a rude wakeup call in the shower, I still want to jump back into bed and oblivion. Alas, life is not that kind.

Am in class right now. Give you money to guess where I wish I'd rather be.

After thought: Only perk of today would have to be that I'm lunching with the OCBC President at Esplande. Free, good food. Yup, Gluttony ranks second on the reasons why the pearly white gates above may not open for me. Pray for me.

Love, Ah Love...

Sometimes I wonder why people subject themselves to so much torture. In this case, I mean being in love. Sure, it feels like the best thing in the world; you feel complete, there's someone you can depend on, and hey, humans weren't built to be solitary creatures. But when you look at the destruction and hurt it can cause, the sheer amount of effort you need to put in, you wonder why more people don't just lose all optimism and give up on monogamy forever.

The best (and worse) kind of relationships are the ones where you put in effort to maintain. Where you are constantly thinking of your lover, putting in effort to meet up, hang out, communicate, surprise, delight and basically show that you care. Make sacrifices, make time, make sure the other person is aware of you.

But it is just so exhuasting. And then you start to wonder if it is worth all the strain. Juggling school and Fadz can sometimes be a fine art. Because of his ridiculous schedule, he will only know whether he can come out on weekdays at the last minute. So what happens? I have to make the decision whether to stay at home and do work (or spend me time) or rush out and meet him. I have on occasion felt extremely resentful, and have oft wondered if he realizes the effort that I put in to see him. I push aside my work commitments, stand up friends to meet him, stay up into the wee hours (after he has gone back to camp) to rush reports and assignments, all just so that we can spend more time together.

And at the back of my head, I'm constantly questioning myself, why bother? I'm young, relatively datable, why don't I choose the easy way out and just casual date? That way, there's no commitment, no resentment, no feelings to be hurt. And don't even get me started on the other excess baggage that commited dating drags along. Hello jealousy, pettiness, stupid quarrels and misunderstandings. Restrictions, self-control and monotony. Doesn't sound like a pretty package at all.

So why do we still do it? Why do we constantly dream of The One, of spending the rest of your life with that ONE person, of loving that ONE lover into your old age. No matter how big a flirt you are, no matter how much you may proclaim to be a swinging bachelor(ette), at the end of the day, you still wish you belonged in a relationship with that special someone. Someone who makes your heart go flip-flop, who makes you smile with thoughts of that person, who holds you like he never means to let go. Someone you know who will be around.

So why dream of that White Knight?

The answer lies in possession. The knowledge of looking at the love of your life and going, He's MINE. He's mine to hold as tight as I want, and only I can kiss and caress him (well, at least in most cases); that his gestures are made for me, his choices have me in mind. That it's my RIGHT to think of him constantly, my RIGHT to do stupid things that would make other people cringe, and above all, my RIGHT to occupy that portion of his heart and mind.

Possession. When you start losing that need to possess and be possessed, that's when you know it's over. But the magical thing is, you never stop hoping that someone would come along to fill that need. Lovers may die, but love never does. That why we keep trying. That's why we endure the madness and the crying, the pain and the jealousy. In the hopes of finding that feeling and keeping it. To feel glorified and justified. To be wrapped in that special bubble where so many damn things just can't penetrate.

Love, drive us to madness. Please.

Romance Is (Almost) Dead

We were eating at Swenson's and inspired by their new drinks list, I started to call Fadz Honey Darling.

He looked at the same list and started calling me Mango Tango.

How is that romantic, you tell me?

But then again, he let me drag him through MacRitchie (all 11km of it!) and to the treetop suspension bridge, even though he was fasting. And he didn't even blink an eye when I had to stop on many occasions to guzzle water as if my life depended on it, all the while controlling his own insane thirst.

Alright, he has redeemed himself.

Heartache

Wah lao, another disappointing training session. It was so farcical, I might as well have not played. I seem to be playing worse and worse each week, and I think the coach has given up on me. It's like, ok, she's here to make up the numbers. When the better player turns up, she can go pick the balls.

Fuck it.

And my stupid team mate refused to pass me the ball. It's like I'm some blithing idiot and I'd just screw everything up. Whatever. So I threw a temper in my own fashion. After training was over, I took a ball and whacked it over and over again at the wall. *Chuckles* The guys who were training on the court were rather alarmed at my angst. In fact, my captain had to come over and talk to me. Of course I said that I was pissed off at my own ineptitude, and not at my team mate. Even though everyone could see that she was not giving me the ball. I was thinking, Shit, I'm going to hell for lying, but at that moment, I just didn't give a fuck.

Sigh, and I totally need new shoes if I want to stop humiliating myself. My ancient, secondary-school ones have totally lost traction and at one point, when I jumped to spike the ball, I landed off-balance, slipped and hit my head against the floor.

Sigh.

An all-around shitty day. I got locked out of the locker and had to wait 1/2 hour to get my stuff.

The only few perks that I can conceivably smile about was the experience of sticking my head between my team mate's legs. Before you think of anything obscene, we were carrying each other on our shoulders and doing half-squats as a strengthening exercise. It was a kick being carried by my bony team mate.

And of course, my darling Fadz is back! No matter how much I whine, no matter what melancholic mood I am in, he will always find a way to tease me out of it. He would listen and laugh at my silliness and get me to snap out of the "mood" I'm in, and the security he provides is such a great peace of mind. Exhuasted after watching a late-night movie, as I lay on his chest and drifted off to sleep on the train, I felt so reassured, so calm. Like, no matter how bad times may be, no matter how pertulent and angsty I may be, this man will always be here for me.

Amen to that.

Conniving Men

I think many people have the misconception that I'm some bra-burning, man-hating feminist. Truly, I'm not. Yes, I may stand up for certain injustices, but I'm a modern feminist and believe that there really is such a thing as equality. Yes, I may make bitchy comments about men and sometimes make jokes at their expense, but at the end of the day, I'm all for men. I'm in love with one, love looking at them, love partying and dancing and flirting and talking to them. So you see, I'm not so bad.

But then again, there are those whom I truly despise. Men who are conniving, manipulative and basically take advantage of my niceness. Just because I'm more naive and trusting, they see it as an opportunity to use me as they see fit, before tossing me aside once I've lost my value to them.

It happened with A last semester. He cajoled me into believing that we were forming a friendship; having conversations, sharing our feelings, and all that bullshit. But after a while, I derived a pattern in all our conversations: he was either asking about my grades, talking about tests and exams, comparing advice on which courses to take, etc, etc, etc. Now that we are in different classes, he can't even be bothered to talk to me anymore. Just the other day, I saw him at the library. He acted as if he saw right through me and just walked pass without a single word exchanged. Bastard.

And the same thing is happening with S. He, on the other hand, is more skilled at molding the conversation to his needs. He would start off nicely enough, asking the precursor questions like "how are you?" and "how's life?", but that's just the preamble. He would then jump in and ask for the information he truly needs. Just last night, the conversation occurred like this. We were talking, and I thought he truly cared about my well-being. But then he asked "the question". I didn't have the answer. Having lost my value to him, he quickly told me that he had to go and left the conversation. But his msn was still on. I was close to throttling him.

Fuck it lah, am I some easy target to these assholes? What happened to just talking because you wanted to have a conversation with a friend? When did choosing friends and forming friendships become based on a person's perceived value? I feel so utterly disappointed in these people. At least with some guys, they are outright about their motives. It's just business. Fine, I can totally handle that. But if that's all you want, information, why do the sneaky thing and beat around the bush? Why lull me into this sense of "intimacy" only to cast me aside once you are done?

I feel so cynical about friendships now. Whenever somebody gets friendly with me, my first thought is, "What is his motive? Business or friendship?" How is one supposed to live life with such pessimism and suspicion? Seriously, it's bad for the soul.

Maybe being a stereotypical feminist isn't so bad after all.

Female Chauvinism

Sometimes, you must truly pity the male specy.

Despite conventional notion that females are often the ones under scutiny, judgement and constraints, our male counterparts actually have it quite bad too. Ok, the phenomenon I'm about to describe only exists in 1st world countries like Singapore. If you are living in some oppressed nation where people are still in the 3rd century, then of course you have no idea what I'm talking about.

You see the thing is, men have it so bad when it comes to fashion choices. Sure, you may make up fancy new words like "metrosexual" to make male vanity sound better, but the tiniest misstep will result in you being mistaken for a gay. Or faggot. Or effeminate. Take your pick. Either that, or you are called a poseur and dismissed for your utter lack of originality.

Nowadays, men are trying to be more experimental when it comes to fashion.

You see some guys taking baby steps and accepting their more feminine side: embracing the colours pink and purple, carrying large tote bags and spending so much time in the toilet primping that they can rival females. But don't you see, it may be fashionable, but that sure ain't gonna stop the gay label. Think David Beckham. Or Jerry Yen. Some of the most gorgeous and eligible men in the world, who unfortunately, have a taste for experimenting with their feminine side. Now think of the ultimate sex symbols. Sean Connery. George Clooney. About as manly as you can get. Not a single y-chromosome out of place. Wanna be noticed? Dress like a man and stop flinching your girlfriend's/mother's underwear.

And this applies to normal human beings too. Some poor, oblivious male may think that wearing pink is cool. Nope, you're so wrong. Women are constantly checking out guys and if one of them happens to be wearing pink, it is highly probable that the female's first thought is, "Is he gay?" Yup, it's as simple as that. Judgemental and critical? You bet. Welcome to our world. And if you're one of those people who wear pink and carry a tote bag, you might as well be the poster boy for homosexuality. Can't take the scrutiny? Don't ask for it.

Women on the other hand, are so much more liberated. We can wear a myriad of colours and look utter ravishing; wear pants and exude sexuality; cut our hair short and be labelled as chic. But if a guy tries to liberate himself from typical male fashion constraints, and he may just find himself buried under a barrage of scorn and ridicule.

Female chauvinism. It attacks in the most insidious ways. The next time you step out of the house wearing something that screams "GAY!", hair that smells of too much gel, and a bag that looks like it belongs to your girlfriend, perhaps you might want to reconsider your options. There really is nothing wrong with earth colours and a nice, simple haircut. Drop the bag, though. It just ain't cool.

Racism... Lives?

Either I've been living too long in la-la land, or people with deep racial issues are just a small minority. If you have been following the news, you would know that 3 chinese boys were arrested for posting racist comments on their blogs. Not just closed down the blog, but actually got charged in court for it.

Ok, the truth is, a little racism lives in all of us. Who hasn't passed a racist comment before, or heard and told racist jokes? If your hand is not up with mine, you're obviously lying. Sometimes, it can be more subtle. I know of people who would not sit next to an Indian, hold their breath when an Indian walks pass, and other countless little things that may not seem much, but when added together, can actually speak volumes of a person's preference (or avoidance) of a certain race(s).

But what was written in the blogs was so much worse. One guy spoke about his hatred for Malays and Muslims and he wanted to kill them all and blow up a mosque. When I read that report, I was truly horrified. Does racism really run that deep in Singapore? Singapore, where there are multi-racial celebrations, where you have classmates of different races since primary school (unless you belong to one of those atas Chinese schools), where Singapore makes it a perogative to have a racial mix when it comes to HDB housing. Under so many influences, can people still develop such intense dislike?

I remember back on September 11, 2002, the 1st anniversary after the 9/11 attacks. One friend of mine jokingly said that she didn't want to see Fadz cos she was afraid that "his religion" might be planning another attack on that day. I was amazed at the thoughtlessness of that comment. Perhaps because I'm dating a Muslim, whenever such comments are made, I'm insulted too. Insulted that people can be so myopic and assume that just because a few desperate people - who have nothing else to live for in the world, shunned by society and represent the rock-bottom, dead-end laggards of their country - have taken the cowardly method of claiming religion as their reason for personal suicide, that they represent all Muslims in the world. I even went on an Islam absorbing rampage after 9/11, because I wanted to understand the religion. How to date a Muslim if you think all Muslims are terrorists? And it never ceases to amaze me that people often forget that Islam is actually a religion of embracing life, and that a few fanatics have so completely twisted this message that what they represent is a completely different religion.

And it leads me to think that behind all the thoughtless comments made in joking, how many people actually mean what they say? How many people are really living in terror and nurturing this innate hatred for Muslims? Not just Muslims, but Indians as well?

And isn't this such a vicious cycle? When people around you can't stand you, hate you, despise you, isn't it any wonder that these people in turn will retaliate in the worse possible way? What, you think they will just meekly accept their fate and let you step all over them? Remember, when a frightened animal is cornered, it bites back with the intention of killing. Kill, or be killed.

Still Waiting

10 more days before I can see my beloved. Dear old Sylvia and Kristin have been bearing the brunt of my loneliness. My moods can swing from a moment of ectasy, to snappiness, to plain old staring into the space.

I wonder who will be more glad when Fadz is finally back. Them or me?

Blabber On

Had my marketing case presentation today. For some reason, I suppose because of the long hiatus since my last public presentation, I was feeling exceedingly anxious. The classic case of butterflies in my stomach, swelling of tongue and quickening of heartbeat. Yes, even though I have done many presentations and usually seem to have a calm facade, I'm actually this quaking ball of nerves on the inside.

Anyway, today's presentation was rather rushed and I only got to view the final slides like during class. So much for some prep work...

When it was my turn to present, my head went blank. I knew I was standing in front of my professor, I knew I was supposed to sound intellectual and like I knew what I was saying, but all I could remember thinking about was "Shit, what the fuck am I saying?" It was a completely surreal, out-of-the-body experience. It was like seeing myself from a 3rd-person's perspective and shaking my head in mock despair.

And then the strangest recollection popped into my head: there was one episode of America's Next Top Model where the models were coached to do interviews. The coach then told them that when an interviewer does not know what to ask, just keep talking and eventually it will come to you. I realize that's usually my style too - blabber enough, and with a strong smile, you might just convince your classmates and prof that you're making sense.

Keeping blabbering, that's my new motive in life.

I Will Survive, I Will Survive!

Wheeeee.... Just came back from a 4-hour training session. It was only supposed to be 2 hours, but the coach just kept going at it, and what are we to do? Play on, what else. And the last hour was again extended so that we could play matches against the guy's team. One hour of getting whacked left, right and centre. How fun hor?

Sianz, although I am sort-of improving, a lot more confidence in my game then say, one miserable year ago, I still have a long way to go. The other people are improving at a much faster rate, so i need to step up my game too. *determined look*

I seriously need to do more sprinting. Every week, it's the same complaint from my coach - "Oy Joanne, move faster can or not?" "Eh Joanne, it's not good enough to just swish your arms in the right direction, move your legs as well!"

No idea what I'm talking about? Ok, crash course in volleyball. The normal receiving position is one that involved squatting with your legs apart.


Not just forward spread, but sideways as well. Think big, honking spread-eagle position.

Now, being the conservative and shy me, I'm not in the habit of spreading my legs apart (somehow, that came out wrong). My old coach couldn't break me, let's see the tenacity of this coach. So I tend to squat with my legs close together, butt in the air. As you can imagine, it is not very effective. So the coach will scold and scold and scold. Haiz.

When we played against the guy's team, due to a shortage of girls, my coach joined our team. When I missed a couple of balls due to my obstinance in the spreading-of-legs issue, he threw me a disgusted look after a while. Whoopee. Thanks for making me feel good.

Anyway, my practically dead legs of course caused a lot of problems for the person next to me. Sometimes, the ball is mine, and so since I'm not moving, my team mate has to fly over to cover the area. LOL, can understand her need to cough blood.

Our team's formation is as follows:

See, in my position, I have to rush forward to cover the big hole; I have to cover balls coming in a straight line cos the front player has to get ready for attacks, and of course I have to cover to the right.

But sometimes, I get confused whether the ball should be mine or my team mate's.

If you are a smart opponent, you would know that between us is the weakest link. So people keep attacking and attacking and attacking the same spot. With my dead legs and confused state of mind, I missed damn a lot of balls. Deep, deep sigh.

My greatest asset on the court is my loud and happy attitude. Even when losing, I find something to laugh about. *shrugs* Some people find it comforting, and the opponents get so flustered that they make mistakes. I remember back in Sec 3 when we faced the top team in the division... We felt it was a lost cause. They insulted us by putting their substitute team in. So I played a mind game. I laughed, mocked, refused to die (sub team mah, balls not very difficult to receive). I outshouted them, blocked their players' view (it's legal) and laughed and laughed and laughed. They lost that set. Their coach turned livid and immediately put on the first team. We lost eventually, but I'd never forget that feeling of superiority. Even if it's for stupid reasons.

So confidence is very important on the court. Not so much your skills, but how much you believe in yourself. If you think the ball would go over, it would. So when lambasted and criticised by my coach, I wilted like a wallflower. My balls went from bad to worse. Oy Vy.

What I've come to realise is that I cannot think on the court. Thinking and brooding and feeling hurt is bad. So throw the brains away for a sec. Don't get emotional. Accept the directions like a robot. That way, I keep up my cheerful disposition, my confidence isn't shaken, and I can play decently.

Bye bye brain, hello subconscious movements. Let the rhythm take over. Thinking bad. Moving good. *grunt*