Grandma flew in from London today. She arrived in Singapore at around 7.35am and will be staying with us for a week.

Grandma wanted to go to the market by herself to pick up some stuff, but Mum and I were rather reluctant about an old woman scuttle all the way to the market. What if she got lost? Can you imagine MY Grandma? What would people think if they see an old woman, clutching 6 bags of shopping, with a sweater and old sweatpants, with her hair secured into a beehive shape with numerous bobby pins, and walking around the place struggling to remember which way she came from? Where the hell would we even start?

But Grandma insisted that she’d be okay and Mum finally agreed to let her go all by her lonesome. After she left, she instructed me to stand by the phone at all times in case she calls and demands to be found.

Mum then left for the gym. Grandma came back shortly after Mum left – thank god – and started unpacking her stuff, and started scuttling around the house with the broom in her knotty hands and sweeping every nook and cranny she could reach. I tried to tell Grandma to leave it; that she should be resting after her 13 hour flight, but she was adamant about doing something. So I let her be and read my book.

Then after a while she sat down on the chair in the living room. So it was Grandma, my sis and I at home and honest to God I wasn’t sure what to do. It’s not everyday we have visitors to the house, especially a grandparent who only visits once every 3 to 4 years. I was certain that my bratty sister wouldn’t keep Grandma company, so I took my book and went to the living room and accompanied by grandmother.

We engaged in conversation, and it took less than 5 minutes for me to realize that my grandmother had definitely gotten old. She struggled to find words and had difficulty remembering what she said. She’s talk about chicken rice one minute the next, she’d leave me confused with buying tee shirts for Fred and Tim ( my Granddad and my Aunt Christine’s boyfriend), and on to some other topic.


Here is a transcript of what she and said about something amusing:

Grandma: “You got a boyfriend?”
Serene: “Nope.”
Grandma: “Huh? No boyfriend?”
Serene: “No boyfriend”
Grandma: “You don’t like boys?”
Serene: “Er…”
Grandma: “Or you like girls?”
Serene: “I like boys and girls, Grandma. But it’s just that I don’t like any
particular boy now” (desperately wishing the floor would magically
open and swallow me whole)

Grandma: “I thought you liked one Indian boy?”
Serene: “Nope.”
Grandma: “Oh.”

Then I decided to ask her something I’ve been meaning to ask for so long. I asked her about Granddad. Apparently Grandma was an entertainer in a bar in Singapore when she was much younger. My Granddad was a pilot for the British Air Force and was involved in World War II. So he entered the bar where my Grandma was working and struck up a conversation with her. They became friends. A few months later, he asked her to marry him.

I asked Grandma if Granddad was handsome and she smiled so brightly and said yes. It hurt my heart to see her smile like that, because I know what my Granddad did to her. How be betrayed her trust and broke her heart. Grandma seemed to be in her own world at that moment as she fondly recalled of how he looked. Granddad, according to my Grandma, was extremely handsome. He had blonde hair, blue eyes and was 1.83m. He had an oval shaped face and thick eye brows. He had a light scar on his left jaw from an accident her procured when he fell from his bike at 11. He had an ugly brother (Grandma’s words – not mine), whom he never got along well with, who had married a German woman.

Then she stopped for a while. And then I asked what happened – even though I already knew - and Grandma just stared at the floor and went all quiet. She was so silent. Then she spoke, and I noticed that her voice was quivering, and I never forgot what she said,

“10 years. Lasted only 10 years. He had another woman. They have 1 boy and 1 girl. 10 years only. He was very young. He was 20 when he got married. I was 24. 10 years. 10 years only.”

And she fell silent again. I didn’t dare mention anything and all I could do was look in her eyes. They were glassy and empty, and I realized that they had been drained of love; her eyes stripped with betrayal from the man whom she thought loved her. It pained me to see Grandma so sad, because she’s been such a strong woman. Bringing my mum and Aunt Christine back to Singapore and having to raise them alone and work 3 jobs to keep them alive, while my Granddad cadoodled with some other bitch who made him change his surname to her maiden name when he wed her. So he turned from Frederick William Clout to Frederick William Bennington. When they divorced 6 years ago, he assumed back to original surname and how lives alone, indebted to my Grandma for the pain and suffering he inflicted upon her.

I remember writing to him when I was in Secondary 1. I wrote once a week. In every letter, I’d tell him what was happening in Singapore, what my family was like, my hobbies and I’d always end with the same question: Why won’t you answer my letters?

Finally he plucked up the courage to call me and admitted that he did not know what to write to his granddaughter who was willing to write to him and acknowledge him as her Granddad.

I wish I could meet my Granddad. I’ve never seen him before. I wonder how he looks like. I know how he sounds like, since we’ve spoken on the phone, but pictures convey a different meaning don’t they?

So Grandma ended her reminiscence by recounting that she had dabbled in fortune telling a few times and she discovered that of her granddaughters would marry a Caucasian and she said that that granddaughter would be me. Thanks Grandma! We’ll wait for the time to come (:

Shall continue in another post. I’m DYING to return to my book. I’m re reading The Time Traveller’s Wife for the third time.

peace and love (:

Of Men and Dancing

This gorgeous photo of Ryan Reynolds will fully explain why I am hopelessly and passively in love with Ryan Reynolds now. He is God and Sex trapped in a human form, waiting and clawing to be unleashed. Yet I am full of remorse to say that the heavens have unleashed said beautiful beast on another beautiful beast in the form of Scarlett Johanssen, whom he tied the knot with just last year. Dang. Nevertheless, I'm sure Dr Freud-whom-is-fathomlessly-obsessed-with-sex-based-entities would approve of my possibly healthy and sane thoughts.

And then we have Mr Ivan Sanchez who is a lovely Spanish model whom I headhunted into my list of Most Gorgeous Testosterone-Laden Creatures. I sourced him from the TV series - Hospital Central, a watered-down Spanish version of E.R and Grey's Anatomy. Watered-down, because the show lacks the goriness associated with medical trauma as so nicely featured in E.R and Grey's Anatomy. Still, Hospital Central actually features lesbians. It has a female doctor marrying a female nurse and the nurse gets herself impregnated by a male nurse, who so happens to be (gasps) played by my Ivan, after she begged him to be her sperm donor because she wanted kids with her...female husband.

I think the only reason I picked Paolo Seganti to be in my list is because he's tall, good looking and rugged. And I spotted him while watching an episode of The Nanny, playing an ostentatious( try saying that 5 times =) ) French tutor. The Nanny is my favourite American drama series EVER. But they stopped productions after the 6th season about 10 years back. I'd post a youtube video, but its been disabled watch it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DanYd-EdV9c&feature=related ! God, I simply lurve French accents. What is it about French accents? They're so sexy. They just are. Along with British accents. Now, I like British accents because my grandfather's English and when I speak to him on the phone, I can only wonder why I'm not talking to a 20 year old guy instead of 75 year old English gentleman (:

Plus, he modelled for awed labels such as Calvin Klein, Lanvin and Gianfranco Ferre which means he's got himself a nice body. Okay I've never even heard of Gianfranco Ferre but who's checking? Plus, he speaks Italian - since he's from Italy - and English and French (: I don't know about any of you, but I personally like a man who plays around with his tongue. That's all I know about Paolo. The last I heard, he married a Chinese businesswoman and they have 4 beautiful half Italian half Chinese children. makes mental note to strike him off the list. need to update list soon.

Unmistakeably I also gently tossed Eric Banadinovich ( a.k.a Eric Bana) onto my list after I watched sweaty half naked men thrusting swords and sticks and stones at each other in Troy. Unfortunately he got his sensuous gym toned body speared with Achilles' sword - who is incidentally Valerie's secret husband - and who tied him on the back of his chariot and unceremoniously dragged him back to the base camp of the Greeks. Eric Bana apparently played the Nero in Star Trek, which I didn't watch since I'm not exactly into Start Trek, and also because I never knew his existence in that movie. And he also starred as King Henry in The Other Boelyn Girl. I didn't really like the movie. It wasn't dramatic and it lacked a certain flair to the plot. And the fact that he wore puffy hats and spiffy suits did nothing to show off his svelte body. And what's more he made out him Mrs Ryan Reynolds, a.k.a Scarlett Johanssen and Natalie Portman's characters simultaneously.

Eric Bana's also going to star in The Time Traveler's wife alongside romance witch Rachel McAdams which I am SO going to watch. I love the book. Did I mention I adore it so much, I actually bought the book yesterday? HUZZAH

Michael Vartan first caught my attention as I was aimlessly flipping channels of the cable box after I finished watching Resident Evil: Extinction, which by the way wasn't as good as the 1st movie, but still awesome nevertheless, and I happened to land squarely on AXN which was airing an old episode of Alias, featuring Jennifer Garner and Victor Garber( he, who played Thomas Andrews in Titanic, better known the architect of Titanic) . Basically Alias is about a bunch of spies working in a top agency called the SD-6, branched out from the CIA and they spend 5 seasons going and trying different cases.

Anyway, Michael is a French, of Armenian, Hungarain and Polish descent and speaks fluent French. PLUS, he's an avid dog lover and owns a chocolate Labrador called Millie (: Did I mention Monsieur Vartan has a stubble? God I love stubbles. They make a good looking man like Michael even more good looking. If there were a Mr Universe contest, I'd award him top honors without haste.

God, I love making lists. They're just so fun. Not only do you get to look at sensual & ravishing men of your choice, you get to think of what want in a man in the future. I wonder if psychiatrists recommend this as a cure to depression. Raising endorphin levels in depression-laden people by having them see something they actually get happy about? Gee I'm sure Freud would approve of my magical theory.

Well back to reality and speaking of lists, I've got some words here that I would like to share with you:

Fatigue. Exhaustion. Enervation. Lethargy. Brain fag ( I can finally use this word which I learnt during Cross Cultural tutorial )

Basically these whole list of words serve to indicate my state excessive languor after being practically the whole day yesterday.

Okay so maybe not entirely. I was out from 12pm to around 8-ish, just in time to watch Michael Jackson's World Tour on Channel 5. God I simply LOVE Billie Jean. Best song ever. Alongside Thriller, In the Closet, Bad and You Rock My World.

Speaking of Michael Jackson, Gin held a M.J Tribute Workshop on Thursday and I signed up for it. We choreo-ed to 2 songs of M.J and I zonked out by the end of the 2 hour workshop. I was pretty sure I was the only one who was relatively new to Hip Hop there, because the other dancers in the studio got the steps right, even though they were way at the back and couldn't see Gin.

I was at the front during the first half and managed to execute the steps right. But for the second song, the stack got shuffled & I unwittingly found myself behind and could see neither myself in the mirror nor Gin. So I struggled to catch the steps and in the end, I failed to fully perform the second half, which was choreo-ed to In the Closet.

Sadness. Remorse. Disappointment.

Oh well. Hey at least I tried =) PLUS its not everyday that beginners at Hip Hop manage to follow a class with experienced Hip Hoppers and groove to M.J. So Kudos to me (:


I went to HMV today at City Hall and picked up a Bollywood Dance Workout DVD. I am fully intending to start that, as soon as the mother is out of the house and when I am safely ensconced in my room with the portable DVD player. Bollywood dance apparently features three different genres:

1. Traditional Bollywood - with women dressed in sexy sarees and men in the traditional Indian garb
2. Bhangra - with a lot of hopping and typically played in clubs & usually danced by men in turbans
3. MTV Bollywood - traditional bollywood with a spicy twist of hip hop and salsa.

There is a Bollywood class starting next Wednesday and I was desperate to go. But. It starts at 7.30pm and its at the YMCA. And Wendesdays are days when I have Modern Dance and I end at 6.30pm. There is no way I can make it in time. Because we always end late.

Hence, the Bollywood DVD (:

Plus, I went for Hip Hop 1 class at O School today. We did bounces, which I already did during Hip Hop training in TPDE. Still. We worked up a good sweat, and Allegra - the teacher - was pretty good and friendly. I bet if I dance a lot, I can lose a lot of unhealthy substance residing in my body called fat. I pretty much got over my EDNOS. My doctor says that typically people who suffer from EDNOS revert back to their usual weight before they started the cycle. He was right. I'm back to where I started. Which is pretty much depressing because whenever I wear my clothes, I feel constricted. Like a claustrophobic clawing to get out before succumbing to asphyxia.

Nevertheless, I intend to start afresh in a healthy way and work out the proper way and transform said fat into useful entities called muscle. I need to lose weight.

I need to practice my pirouettes more. I still get dizzy even after spotting, though it might be due to the fact that I an unable to keep my balance whenever after turning. Need to ask Shir Lyn.

Hence, I need to first practice spotting.

I need to start my Bollywood DVD.

I need to get dance pants.

I need to get new books ( recommendations, anyone?)

I need to get new shoes for my new yellow and pink shoelaces which I am so in love with.

I need to ask Keisha when we're going for Hip Hop open classes next week.

I want to dance (:

Mr Mayor would make a nice funny ol' toothless grandfather (:

I also fully intend to go back to watching my childhood cartoons. For instance, The Powerpuff Girls, Scooby Doo, Courage - The Cowardly Dog, Johnny Bravo, Dexter's Laboratory and Kids Next Door. I used to watch the classic versions of The Wizard of Oz, with Judy Garland and Little Women, with Elizabeth Taylor when I was younger was so in love with. I remember carrying the hard-covered version of Little Women for Children whenever I went to, even put it under my pillow at night because I was afraid someone would take it away.

Those were the days. Young, naive and carefree with nothing to worry about.

Praise the Lord, because exams are finally o-v-e-r!

HRM was my last paper on Wednesday. Everything went rather smoothly. Though there were some open ended questions that I wasn't really hapy about. The invigilator called the time-out so I thought everything was cool and casually flipped my papers over to pass them to the teacher when a piece of green paper sllid innocently out the stack of papers. I peered at it and my heart stopped. Because I just happened to realize that it was the OMR sheet used to fill the MCQ questions - of which we had to shade.

But I had left it blank.

Which means I did not fill in the OMR sheet.

I didn't what I was thinking. No wait. Scratch that. I knew what I was thinking. I was thinking the fucking stupid I was to have left that important piece of paper blank. My heart was punding and all I could think of was I had only less than a minute to shade the answers on the OMR before the teacher came.

So all I could do was dive for my pencil and quickly flipped back to the answer booklet where I had written my answers for the MCQ and shaded the corresponding figures. The thing was I could not. You always people saying that their hand were shaking. That their palms feel like they've lost control and they break out in cold sweat.

They were wrong.

Your palms don't shake and you don't break out in cold sweat.

Your arm muscles do. Your biceps shake and your heart pounds at a frightening speed.

I was attempting to shade my answers but I couldn't. The pencil seemed to go everywhere, drawing peaks and valleys, as though they were a semisogrpah mapping the underlying tones of an earthquake about to be born. My heart pounded so fast and I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

All I could think of was how the teacher was coming and I needed desperately to shade the answers right.

Well so the teacher did come and she spoke in this authoritarian voice that made me panic even more and I squeaked out an answer that sounded something like I hadn't filled in my particulars. So she left me to my devices. Thank heavens for that! So I rushed to shade the rest of the incomplete questions. Then the old geezer of a teacher came down to collect my paper.

I just hope that I shaded the correct ones =/

And that historic moment marked the end of Examinations.

So Nette, Jess and I went to Tampines Mall with Muying, Mary, Qianhui and Mary and we had Subway for lunch. Then we caught a movie with Aslam, Gabriel, Kenneth and Aaron.

We saw The Proposal. Ryan Reynolds from Trinity: Blade was in it.

And it was one of the most romantic movies I ever saw.

We girls emerged from the cinema with our jaws smarting from smiling too much. Nette and I were giggling and fawning over how absolutely divine Ryan was; how his body was so gyn-toned to absoute perfection. How we was so so so romantic.

And we argued over which one of us was going to marry him.

Well finally Jess and Nette are seeing some sense about the kind of men I fawn over.

After the movie we walked around the mall. Gabriel and Aslam bought Nette an oversized Tweety toy as a belated birthday gift which furthered brightened her day (:

On the way back on the bus, Jess and I engaged in a conversation about what were the types of boys we would like to have. On the superficial level, I'd want a European / American guy and speaks fluent English. But I think love is so much more than that. Sometimes I feel as though love is something that can be defined. But after what Jess and I talked about, I realized it isn't something to be defined, but something to be felt.

To me, I would want a husband who would comment on how beautiful I look, even without makeup and a tear stained face. I want him to look beyond the extra inches on my waist and say I can never look too gorgeous for him. I want him to be willing to let me give him a personalized facial. I want him to be massage my feet when I get home and give me a foot scrub.

I want him to be real.

I think one of the most beautiful and inexplicable things on Earth, is to have someone love you so much, they'd move mountains for you. Not in the parental way, but a significant-other way because its seem so surreal that there is someone actually on this planet who is destined to spend his or her life together with you.

For as long as I can remember, I've always been the one telling my friends how much they deserve to have a guy willing to envelope her in his arms. How much they deserve to have him hold her tight and claim they never want to let go, because if they do, they'd be committing a sin for leaving her to the dangers of external forces.

All this while, I've been a sounding board for my friends and hearing them tell me about how their boyfriends aren't doing what they hope they'd do. I sympathize with them. But in my mind, all I can of is how lucky there already are to be able to share their life with someone.

I desrve that too.

I've been looking out for others for a long time now. It's time someone look out for me too.

It's 2225 in the evening and I intend to sleep early tonight. As opposed to the late nights I've been turning in thee past couple of days. Somehow I'm not really confident about this semester's exams. Well I'll probably crucify myself when I get my results back. I hate being a perfectionist and having an ambitious streak. I wonder from which mad parent I inherited that from.

I feel as though I've been quarantined for the past week. I've not been going out. No scratch that. I've not been out to a proper mall probably since the damn term started. Whatever happened to my social life? It just flew out the window - merry and happy.

Maybe I should study something less stressful in the future, like aerospace engineering, Or is there an astronaut program for the Royally Lost, Turned Over and Screwed Upside Down? Yeah it'll be cool to hang out on the Moon. I wonder if moon rocks can be brought back to Earth. Will they shatter due to differences in air pressure between the two environments?

I wonder of dorkhood is contagious.
Do dogs feel as though they're naked?
What happens when you sprinkle salt on a slug? Do they sizzle and melt like the Wicked Witch of the West?


I've already planned a list of things that I want to drown myself in once exams end. I'm going to start dancing again and put on my tourist cap and travel beyond the limits of boundaries of Serangoon North Ave 4. It's like I live in the village. I need to make more friends.

peace and love y'all

I miss laughing with Jia Li. I'd like to call her, but I don't know what's keeping me from doing that. Mum hogged my phone yesterday for some weird testing thing and apparently she said Jia called.

I miss going to recess with Jia Li and arguing with her endlessly about what to eat. We created special names for people, such as Teddy Bear and Cow and we would have movie dates at her house watching movies together. Then we'd head to the mall for ice cream and fries.

If only I had a friend like her in TP whom I can comfortably relate to without putting on a facade or a fake fat smile all the time.

Today was a - more or less - unproductive day. I tried to get some studying done but the mood simply wasn't there. There should be a medical term for this. Isn't it strange that almost everyone has experienced his feeling of simply wanting to sit on the chair and do nothing but read a book or munch on a cookie or watch Who's Line Is It Anyway. Or simply anything BUT crack open a book to study?

I suspect a fatigue effect. Having worked my ass of for projects and assignments and portfolios has mentally drained the energy out of me til there's nothing but the naked bones of hope and innocence smiling up at me.

I had this dream last night and it was in black. Everything was in black. And I thought it was weird, because my previous dreams have always been in living color. So I decided to look it up on the Net so see what it would mean if I had a dreamed washed in the wallows of such a depresing yet cool color and this was what I got from a site:

" Black signifies isolation and transition period. It shows up conflicts and friction with relations and friends "

So I started contemplating on that portion and felt that it might bode a bare bit of truth? I mean I was talking to Shu online about some things that were bothering her and I reflected on what we said about putting on facades in front of friends and family members.

I think I MIGHT believe in such sort dream intepretations. Once I had a dream about my teacher's wedding and apparently it was supposed to mean that an unfortunate incident is about to strike me. Two days I later, O Level Chinese results were handed back down and I got a C. That instantly triggered a bloom of angry and disappointing tears.

Okay back to reality. It's 10.30pm. I've wasted my whole day already. Shall revise HRM now. Thanks the Good Lord I'm not taking that crap subject again. I couldn't less about job analysis or selection testing.

On a happier note: HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY VALERIE, WHO'S EX HUSBAND SLAUGHTERED MY HUSBAND AND TIED HIM TO HIS CHARIOT AND DRAGGED HIM ACROSS THE PLAINS OF TROY, MUCH TO MY UTTER HUMILIATIONS AND DESPAIR.

Love Live Prince ( almost King ) Hector <3

Exams invites a sense of dread and fear.

I have not touched HRM nor completed Dev Psych - of which I just appreciated the density of Chapter 3 - and I am freaking out. I cannot do badly this term, or I will briing reality to my thoughts and slash my wrisrs and bleed to death on my marble floor like a stuck pig.

what do you give to the world, when you have given all?

how does a broken heart continue beating when pieces of it no longer fit?

how do you hold on, when you're barely holding on.

how do you love someone you hate and hate someone you love?

how do you continue breathing with a beating broken heart?

how do you hold on when you're falling apart?



I've learnt that only fools are certain whilst wisdom invites confusion.
I've learnt that it's not going to get better when you say it's going to.
I've learnt that hard work goes unnoticed when you want it to.
I've learnt that its fun to play pretend between the trees and laugh in pretty beds of green
I've learnt that I can fly from the highest swing and still hold on to my dreams.
I've learnt that long walks in the dark bring me closer to myself.

I've learnt, am learning, and will learn.

I fully intend to head down to the cinema without haste when The Time Traveler's Wife hits the big screens in little ol' Singapore. I've been waiting for the release of this movie for about a year. The actual release of the movie was actually scheduled in 2008, but Eric Bana had to shoot Star Trek after filming of The Time Traveler's Wife and shaved his head. Then the director had to wait a year for Eric Bana's hair to grow back so post production shoots could actually commence.

STILL. I hope its worth waiting for because I absolutely loved the book, and I hope the movie lives up to the book's reputation.

I'm so glad Rachel McAdams was picked to play Clare because she's so beautiful and really talented. She's the icon of romantic movies. ( think, The Notebook). I think she's one of the most gorgeous actresses in Hollywood. Alongside other actresses like Angelina Jolie, Halle Berry, Eva Longoria, Frieda Pinto, Aishwarya Rai, Nicole Kidman, Catherine Zeta Jones and Selma Hayek.

Sometimes I secretly want to BE Selma Hayek. She's stunning with long luscious curly locks and body curves in all the right places.

So we all agree Rachel M.A is gorgeous. She's like a mature prom queen. And I think she looks better as a brunette.

And when I saw that Eric Bana was going to be Henry DeTamble on IMDb.com, my jaw literally dropped. I mean, Hunky Hector to vulnerable Henry DeTamble? I was shocked, but all the same totally psyched.

Eric Bana looks so so SO divine. I mean he looks good with a stubble. I mean let's face it. People who know me well by now should be well aware of the fact that I have a thing for hunky men with stubbles. But I'm talking about any stubbles. There are 2 kinds of stubbles in this world. The neat and deliberate one where its shaved to perfection and calls "Dude, could you shave this area just a little more?" And then there's the messy one that innocently calls " I haven't shaved in 3 days so deal with it." Now I like THAT kind of stubble. I mean its like sexy, but in a messy and exotic way which I totally go for. Then imagine bringing your lips close to his. Feel his coarse skin rubbed against yours and the tension and friction it invites. Pure bliss.

Then again, it cannot be TOO overdone. I mean I don't want to be kissing a 2000 year old caveman with a long raggy tangled beard with bits of raw eggs and bacon in between his beard, thank you very much.

So yes, Eric Bana has a stubble in this movie. And his voice. Deep and husky, just the way I like it. Men like that are simply...irrestible and so testosterone-laden with the good qualities. All the male actors that I think are divine are like in their 30s - to name a few - :

(1) Eric Bana
(2) Johnny Depp
(3) Christian Bale
(4) Viggo Mortensen
(5) Michael Vartan
(6) Will Smith
(7) Ivan Sanchez

I wonder if this is a genetic mutation. Though I'll laugh my pants off before I can declare my Dad testosterone-laden with a stubble and deep voice. Yeah my dear old Pop is short, for a man. His own wife is taller than hi,m, for crying out loud. And sometimes he doesn't even shut the bathroom door when he goes to the toilet and I'm cringing in disgust. He hogs the toilet sometimes in the morning, and he steals The Straits Times from me when I'm reading it over my cereal.

How come men can be so gross sometimes?

Yes I know. There is no such thing as a perfect man. And even if there is, I probably wouldn't want him, because too much something isn't all strawberries and sunshine (:

I told my dad to shut up today due to various sensitive reasons which I will not disclose. But he made a comment that has been hurting me since I was 11 years old and probably is one of the determinants why I actually have low self and body esteem.

I don't care what people say about ignoring such comments, because its stupid to say that.

I ask for Jesus to come down into my heart and take me away to Neverland so I can fly on the clouds with Peter and TinkerBell and never have to think about the sorrows of living as Serene Juan.

I wish the holidays are here now. Funny, because last year I actually dreaded the holidays.

Blogger is being ridiculous because its not letting me change my fonts or add pictures or whatever nice little effects I can do.

I shall do a quickie because I've so much stuff to do. Like the fact that I have yet to study for exams and completing individual write up for Dvpt Psych and the group presentation.

Apparently Hip Hop training was cancelled today. Joycelyn texted all of us at 8.42am - just 18 minutes before class was scheduled to begin. So I arrived in school and lo and behold, met Jensen at the Mushroom only to have him inform him that trg was cancelled. Bugger. And I came to school for nothing.

But nevertheless, we went to the dance studio and some seniors were there getting ready for their Suntec competition and their choreo was superb! If only I were as fast and cool as them. There were only about 6 or 7 junior Hip Hoppers so we practiced last week's routine that Gin taught us for a bit. Then we taught each other some dance moves. I learnt the proper way to practice pirouttes and finally after weeks of perserverance, I managed to do a split! I was so impressed with myself. But I couldn't shift to a side split because I've not been practicing them. Usually during Modern Dance trg, I practice splits by going down from the top and not from the side.

And the coolest bit was that I learnt how to perform a basic move for breakdancing! There is this really awesome guy in my class and he's been breakdancing for a while and he demonstrated some of his expertise to us and we were immediately blown away by it. He was showing us how to balance our body with our hands on the floor and our torso balanced in the air. I swear it was a load of hard work at the beginning because I was afriad I would fall and injure myself, because my head was lain precariously on the ground. But after a few attempts with scaffolding from Jensen, I managed and was immensely pleased with myself. Though I couldn't balance torso in the air, because Jensen said that a beginner should get used to the position before lifting his head off the ground and practice the art of balacning. Still!

Comm-Based Project auditions begin next month and I was surprised that we have to audition, because well I just didn;t exactly expect it for a bit. I wonder what I'll audition for. Though I shall think about that after dreaded exams.

Shu and I intend to die from not having started our revisions, then sprout great white angelic wings. She'll play the guitar and I'll belly dance to it, because I can't hip hop well yet (: Shu's full of quirky ideas sometimes.

Oh well it's back to IDV writw up now. I can officially conclude that my mum and dad will never fully achieve generativity in their lives, due to their non-existent contributions to the society to preserve the future generation.

i feel like i need to acquire a sense of self control over what i actually stuff in my mouth. even though i actually work out / dance most of the days in the week, i should at least TRY shouldn't i?
i shall embark on a spiritual journey to control and take note of what i eat.
LESS CARBS. more protein and veg. LESS CHOCOLATE.

but i love bread! god this is depressing.

Hip Hop training with Gin resumed today. Another instructor, Xue Hui, had been taking over her classes for two week while Gin went somehwre for some dance competition. Gin taught us a routine today and I must say I found her style rather different from what Xue Hui had been teaching us.

Then I found out that Xue Hui's style is New School Hip Hop and Gin digs L.A and Old School Hip Hop. When Shirlyn told me that I was like 0_0 I think Gin can be frightening when she wants to be. She moves at a pretty quick pace, and what's worse is that there was this really tall guy blocking me so I couldn't see Gin's arm movements and I struggled a little throughout the training.

Now I know I need to secure a position right up front - a place reserved for the newbies like me.

I think all in all training was fun. Got to soialize with the other dancers more, because the studio wasn't open and we had to hang outside the studio til our senior - Joycelyn - came to open it. They're pretty friendly and chummy as well and it's really cool because I always thought they were scary and would rather stick to their dancing friends.

Shirlyn, Tiara, Keshia & I were discussing where to get good dancing shoes and now it's time for me to start my search.

Met up with Lynette to discuss Dvpt Psych. And I'm officially pissed at Khy. I busted my brains yesterday with my nose dripping away and my eye watering and on the verge of closing, trying to complete my individual report. And Lynette tells me that submission date has been postponed with new guidelines and I went 0_0 I worked my ASS off for this report because I feared that I might not have enough time to do it on the weekends due to my sick and weakened immune system.

But I already finished the frickin' report, now I gotta redo it all over again. Oh, and Carolyn said I have to redo my Transnational Journal 3. Bugger.

I need a rush of serotonin to my brain cells now. I just ate a pack of almonds and some cashews. I shall now watch Who's Line Is It Anyway before I begin the treacherous journey to completing Journal No. 3 for Miss Carolyn Street. I hate weekeneds.