Everytime I go to church I can vividly recall what it was like to be sixteen. Mass every Friday or so, the feeling of having to face the 'O' levels, which seem a lot less frightening in retrospect. At least, a lot less frightening than facing the 'A' levels. Life seemed so much simpler back then, although it probably wasn't. Strange huh, what time can do to your memory?
Last night Suili and I were at Deb's for dinner. We were going through a lot of the past, just talking about memorable stuff - incidentally, almost everything that was memorable to them was forgotten to me. I'm so scared I'm already getting old! Well apparently I had gone to HMV with them and I had screamed at the guy behind the counter because they were promoting a Suede album for like $5. They said I said something like 'How can you do this???!!!' and I was pretty hysterical about it while the guy was trying not to laugh. Suili was telling me about the stupid fights we had last year on holiday, but thankfully I can't remember the unpleasant aspects of that trip. One thing that was so lovely about the bus ride home last night, we both said that given the chance, we'd do it again.
Anyway the point of me rambling on even though it's lunchtime is that I can't help but feel my teenage years have passed me by in a flash. So many other great things that have slipped through my grasp. I was reading somebody's blog 2 nights ago, about how she thinks every girl should have a youth that was wonderful enough to look back on and let go of at the same time. [I paraphrased, she made it sound more beautiful than what I quote] And I wonder, if I had to be an adult tomorrow, would I be ready to part with my adolescent needs to be pampered, gratified and totally spoiled? Would I be ready to greet the future without hankering after whatever joys came with my youth?
Then again, God willing, I have about 4 more years of school, and hence 4 more years of fun and laughter to go through. And not to forget that I can be 60 years old and young at heart. I don't want to look back anymore. I just want to move on.
Yeah!

posted by beautiful at 10:02 pm

A different quiz, what strange type of person are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
A dreamer is your type. Seen as "not quite there", you see things that few do. You make people think, and your friends turn to you for insight.

posted by beautiful at 7:01 am

My mum's complaining that one pair of my jeans is so low-riding that she can see half my butt. She was nagging non stop and *sigh* I just denied it, thinking back to the time when Deb said her parents refused to let her out of the house in this pair of purple pants. Why are parents so conservative?! And she goes on and on about how I shouldn't be a waitress, because I'll spill everything on some poor customer, and it's such a lousy job. I asked her "why can't you just let me do what I want?" which, on reflection, is an extremely selfish thing to say because I know what I want to do isn't always the best, and what I want to do may have repercussions on others. It's a lot like how we have to do a lot of things we don't want to do in life [like go to school or eat vegetables], but it's often not a question of we want to do, or what we feel like doing, but more of what's the best for us. Sadly, in this life, what we need to do is often done in the quest for material gain.
I dragged myself out of bed today at 7.30am to attempt Hwa Chong's Paper 2, which I started on at 8am. By 9am I was back in bed. No joke. Woke up at 11.30am feeling absolutely nauseated and very lethargic. Lesson to be learnt: Never ever wake up after only 7 hours or so of sleep.
Spoof of Mastercard advertisement:
Box of 10 chamomile teabags: $3
One very comfortable Dreamland mattress: $300
More than ten hours of sleep: Priceless
At the rate this is going I'm going to have to be in bed by 8pm during the weeks of the A levels. *curse and swear*
Just a thought that somehow surfaces - love one another or perish. From Tuesdays With Morrie, by Mitch Albom. It was a book my second brother gave me for Christmas last year. I love receiving books, but the best part is reading the inscription on the front. A book can be read once and kept aside, but the heartfelt message inside makes its mark forever. It states how although he and I are only 10 years apart, we have such different worldviews and ideas. I can't help but wonder if our worldviews and ideas are a result of the times we live in. For instance, ten years ago he did his A levels and came out with BCD. With a BCD now I'd probably have to beg my way into NUS. His twin however, left mainstream education and entered LaSalle at 17 years of age, and he thinks it's unnecessary to get a degree. That, to me, is a simplistic opinion and one that will only get me as far as the cashier of the nearest Mobil mart. That's the difference between me and them, and maybe to them it's not such a big gap. To me, it is. But you know, this difference in the way we think doesn't and shouldn't matter at the end of the day. We'll go where we have to go, do what we have to do, but how we treat one another is the most important thing.
With love.

posted by beautiful at 6:20 am

HOWLING MEDULLAE
I told you to get fairy sprinkles and you dunno how, which says a lot about your intellectual capacity. Boob brain.
As an afterthought I want you to know that you're okay as an individual, so don't be hard on yourself.

posted by beautiful at 11:07 pm

And so nine nights of prayers it's been. I have prayed for all the people in my life, especially for Miss Cloverjuice and her own English version of Michael Vartan! Who, by the way, DOES NOT die in the flooded corridor! I knew they would come through for me, and so now I have a beautiful reason to watch Season 2 of Alias, and the reason's name is Vaughn. Okay, right, nine nights of prayer. I have come to be very thankful for my parents, as I sit in between them during the Rosary. I have close friends whose families are on the verge of splitting apart, and the bare fact my parents have lasted almost 30 years of marriage is something God has blessed me with.
What I've also realised as I've been praying for family vocations is that perhaps the A levels are not and should not be the most important thing in my life. I mean, surely there's more to our existence than just studying for exams, getting the grades and the paper qualifications? It reminds me that my life is one that should be lived in service to God, and that means, living a life that is dedicated to serving others. Remember, we are first and formost called to love.
Of course I want three A's at the end of the day. But what does God want for me?
'Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin with me'
I may pray for peace in the world, no fighting among nations. I suppose this means I should first start in the home, where there shouldn't be fighting among the individuals of the family.
'With God as our father
Brothers all are we
Let me walk with my brother, in perfect harmony.'

posted by beautiful at 7:13 am

Question: What's the difference between Suede and a skinned cow?

What Suede said: We have six more legs.

posted by beautiful at 4:13 am

BL woke up with a bad cough today and is feeling under the weather. She is speaking in third person because she is enjoying the thrill of being detached from her low-life life. Three words to describe BL's mood this mid morning, for those who are interested: misanthropic, fashionably moody. She's not saying this because [you might suspect] she's feeling like a petulant 2 year old grub [as usual], but because she's angry with herself and loves taking it out on others. *cough*
She wants to add in for good measure that she feels as if she's sitting in Lofty's office with her Fatties posse and writing another 'A' level script. Only that she's so, so alone right now.
'She' - an onomatopaeic word that describes a powerful sexual energy [Brett Anderson]
Reading her diary last night - yes, she doesn't just blog on the computer - she realised that she has reached a state of limbo. Just floating around, passing each day by. The months of January, February, etc. simply feel like an era left behind, one which had already drained her and left her too tired to go on. She, however, had forgotten all this exhaustion at the back of her mind and upon recollecting those days of prelim group squabbles, endless tests and crazy 20 hour weekends, has found herself again. This time though, she's got a blank face. Total uncertainty.
Yeah, that's exactly it, I have lost track of the days and months that have passed. I was quite honestly flabbergasted to see the things I've done since 2002 started, things perfunctorily scribbled down and forgotten. I was reading stuff that was describing my then mental state as a vacuous hole. I was hating school again within 2 weeks of its beginning. That's how tired I was by February. Now it's October and I seem to have forgotten the fucking ephemeralness of the set design I slaved over, and the early mornings we put in for group meetings during the June vacation. I know I'm not stressed, I know I'm not sick of living yet. I know I'm just, well, dead in one sense. Probably the same thing you feel, because well, we're not all that different.
Ever wondered what it was like to kiss someone until you lost your sense of taste?

posted by beautiful at 9:03 pm