100 kids and counting

Today and tomorrow will mark the days that will allow to determine whether or not I will make a suitable parent, and boy was I mistaken on so many counts today.

M and I were at the University Cultural Center at 830am to begin helping with the first full dress rehearsal of the day, which would begin ay 10.30am. We were assigned to be in charge of 2 different groups of children. The first was a group of 34 young children, most of whom were girls, aged between 4 to 7 and it was our responsibility as dressers to make sure that they get into their costumes for their dance items, hustle them to the makeup room and make sure they don't run around and get lost / hide in the cupboards / squabble with each other / throw hissy fits. And my god, is it hard to handle 37 children. Even though there were 4 of us dresser assigned among the 37 children, it was tough to get each child in order because many of them looked so clueless and couldn't think and react fast enough, nor understand the importance of time. And they needed help getting dressed, especially the younger ones who were 3 or 4 years old. Most of them were girls so no awkwardness about helping them change into their outfits, and they were very obedient didn't protest in response to us twisting them or grabbing their feet and shoving them into their tap or jazz shoes. They're probably used to their parents forcing them to stay still and dressing them. This group was tricky, because they had a buffer time of 1 item to quickly run back to their dressing room to change their shoes and because these children possess absolutely no sense of urgency, we took such a long time to get ten to stay still and change their shoes and run them up to the stage entrance.

It was an absolute chaos with the 37 children, but it was such a delight talking to them and I was taken by surprise at how well, motherly I sounded when I started talking to them. I was calling them sweetheart, sweetie and honey holding their hands and humoring them and packing for them and pinching their cheeks. All the performers looks excellent in their costumes, especially the ballet and lyrical dancers. But oh my lord, the Caucasian children, especially the young ones, look so utterly previous and gorgeous and beautiful and innocent and oh my god I want to die. Most of them were girls, and seeing them tottering around in their tap shoes and their hairs in high buns and running around and looking beautiful. Of course the older ones were gorgeous, but man was I jealous because they're so prettyyyyyyyyyy. We saw a 12 year girl taller than us and with the body of a 16 year old girl. I mean what is that? What is that? Life is so unfair.

Anyway, the second group of dancers we were helping to dress and handle were 6 year olds. They were more independent and definitely a more spirited bunch. They could pretty much dress themselves and needed some guidance and help with their shoes and accessories. There were these 3 boys who were this spirited lot, teasing the girls and making fun of each other. One of them asked me where the dressing room was. I said the room we're currently in is the dressing room, and he gasped and protested "But there are girls here!" and so I had to go find a male volunteer to take the boys to the toilet to change. Then I brought them to makeup and it was another round of playful protests.

"I have to wear makeup?!"
"Yes, everyone performing on stage has to wear them."
"Makeup is for girls!"
"Makeup is for everyone! Boys wear them too, but only on stage!"
"Can I not wear makeup? Please please please?"
"No, you're getting your makeup done. Otherwise, you'll look pale like a ghost.

Then it was time for lipstick and the boys started screaming and trying to get way behind the line and so I dragged them one by one to the lipstick lady to get their lipstick done. It was actually fun to banter with them about the lipstick and blush.

Anyway, we had a while before their item was due so the kids were allowed to play and boy was it a sight to watch. Rebecca will be so proud of us actually noticing the different stages of child's play. The kids were only 6 and according to Piaget, they would usually be engaging in rule-based play between the ages of 7 and 11, but the children, especially the girls were abiding by rules to determine equal play. They played "scissors paper stone" to determine who gets the color markers first and agreed to who will go first. And it seems that an appearance complex develops at that age. I had two or three girls coming up to me saying things like "Do I look pretty?" "Does my makeup look good on me?" "I need a touch up for my makeup.

Strange world.

It wasn't difficult helping this group but it was chaotic for two of the kids who had no buffer time to change because they had two items back to back and we didn't get to change them in time and so I volunteered to coordinate the dressing for the girl who had to change immediately after her first item so she can go on for the second item straight away. She's this doll-like looking Caucasian girl who definetely had a more open disposition than the other girls. She knows exactly what needs to be done and would tell the dressers what to do and sort of got into trouble when one of the dressers tried to force the shoes on her without unbuckling it before hand and so I suppose it hurt her feet. Se started telling the helper what to do and well, I guess the helper didn't like being told off by a child so firmly told her to pipe it down. Well. I had the sense to unbuckle the tap shoes so I got it right for her, she politely said "thank you very much" and then hopped off.

After their item I took her to the washroom and it such a nice time walking her there because she's such a chatterbox.

If I get married, I definitely want a Caucasian man.

All in all, it was a tiring day. All 200 kids will be coming in at 11am at once, so we need to man our battle stations. Watching the kids dance on stage, and talking to all the other crew, most of whom are dancers, really gave me fresh perspective on dance, but that's discussion for another day. I need sleep. Desperately.

this is dance

Because dance is not just about using the corresponding music genres for a particular style of dance. 

Because dance is about expression

Because dance is about spreading a message

Because dance is about searching, exploring and finding. 

Because dance is meant to move and inspire. 

This is such a powerful performance; the unique unconventional interpretation is the music and somehow he managed to blend 2 completely different styles to create something so touching and moving. 

I felt it and I was just moved to tears halfway during his routine. 

You go, dwag. 

I had the most lazy-tastic day ever yesterday. Lazi-tastic. Is that even a legit word?

Lazy-tastic = lazy + fantastic.

After a week of hurried walking, shopping and a flurry of meals back and forth, I had the entire apartment to myself on Saturday with everyone out. Okay it was really just my mum and sister out but that's good because my dad and brother normally shut themselves up in their rooms and barely disturb me. So really, it's one of those days where I can get some peace and quiet and do whatever I want to do.

Yesterday was spent experimenting with my accessories, reading magazines (yesssss I gave up reading magazines for the sake of exams), scrolling through Tumblr posts, watching Transformers: Dark of the Moon and getting my arms nibbled by Bobby each time I jump up and down in my seat during an epic chase/battle scene, Skying with S after dinner, running for an hour and finally watching reruns of Sex and the City til 12am.

Yes, that, ladies and gentlemen, is my idea of a fabulous day. Simply staying at home and having some quality lazy time to myself where I don't think about anything else. Well, except for URECA and work. I sent in my resume to a few other recruiters, begging for work. I think sooner or later, I'll settle for anything that comes my way - even being part of a service crew and being a waitress, though I put my foot down at a $5.50/hr salary. That's just insulting but I was only too inexperienced and silly to realize it 2 years ago.

God, what do I do?! This whole finding-work-that-pays seems so enthusiastic. I'm not even a graduate. Most jobs out there that need no other experience/qualifications are low wage jobs like sales and telemarketers and waitresses.

Okay I am a 22 year old woman. I need to be independent and figure this out. Okay, I've drawn out my plan. I sent out my resumes to 15 people since a week ago, I've got Plan Z, I've got to complete URECA, and now its time for some comfort companionship with Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte. I can always count on my 4 girls to give me practical advice about everything. What would I do without you girls.

The hardest part during the recovery process is not seeing the results that you want, or knowing that the results that you will get can only come after a lengthy. gut-wrenching process, or that it stresses you out when your triggers are staring right at you in the face and testing you to the limits. Then you need to consciously remind yourself to not give in to your old habits of self-harm and continue pushing forward.

It was a first for me stepping into JB in Malaysia today, though I'd have to say I didn't particularly enjoy myself. Let me be clear. I am very confident about my personal style. I can scan all the clothes in a store and immediately pick out styles that I love: color blocking, matching, feminine silhouettes, printed jeans, peplum and bustier tops, maxi dresses and what not. The problem is that I don't have the right figure for it. I'm very aware of how exactly my body is, and I can tell you with absolutely certainty, that some of the styles I pick need a good body to be able to pull the look off. I look in the mirror and I don't see the figure I want, but the fleshy areas that really does ruin the silhouette of the outfit. its really a self esteem buster, especially when you see other girls confidently pulling off the looks that you desperately want to wear when you know you can't.

Well, of course there are plus size women all over the world not giving a rat's ass about how their body looks in a particular outfit as long as they feel good in it, but you know what - that's them. It's going to take a long time for me to accept my body and until then, I really do want to slim down. Not for the sake of fitting into a distorted societal norm, but because I want to look and feel confident instead of hiding behind what I've christened my "fat clothes".

Needless to say, I went home feeling pretty much dejected and forlorn. Am wishing I could to J. I mean J isn't exactly the best company to talk to about such body issues because J is so practical and straightforward - when I told J the dress I liked so badly would look better on skinny girls because the fabric of the dress clings, J just said "so get a bigger size". And I just wanted to say to J that there are just some things that won't solve itself if you get a bigger size and if things were that simple, I wouldn't be in therapy to begin with. But yes, I wish I could talk to J about it because sometimes in my life, I just need an uninvolved and unbiased party to help me see things straight.

If only life were so simple.

Given the amount of time and effort I've spent scouring the papers and online advertisements for a job this past few days, I should be given $10 for every resume I've sent to each employer. I must have sent my resume out to about 20 people and it pretty much depresses me when I send my resume in response to an advertisement that says "only shortlisted candidates will be notified" and I don't hear anything from them.

If I continue at this rate, I'm not going to be able to travel much outside New York by the time my exchange comes!

Shiz.

I need a miracle now.
Or rather, I need a job.

I just did a mental assessment of the things I have scheduled for the week ahead, and I'm so taken aback any how much activities I have planned for the week. By the way, when I mean activities, I don't mean leisure. I mean, activities revolving around work/school. And just one or two social events planned. But somehow, the busier I am, the more alive I feel because it gets my juices running and I hate the feeling of not doing anything productive. So here's a list of some of the stuff that's happening in my life I need to get done, or just going through the motions of:

1. URECA

I officially have a little over a month left before URECA finally ends and then I can stop worrying data collection and data analysis. I'd have to say URECA has been pretty okay. It's pretty much like Major Project back in TP, only this one is much more independent. Data collection is a nightmare. I'm in the middle of a dry spell and only have a little over 40 participants when the initial plan was to hit 100 participants! I was agonizing over what my professor would have to say about it but luckily my she is major nice and she says 50-60 participants would be okay. I always imagined university professors to be unbending and unapproachable but my supervisor is sort of like an aunt. She takes things as they come and is quite a jolly woman.


Shall start data analysis by the end of next week, since my professor will be away most of June so I've got to consult her on the results before she leaves. And yes, I am having a major brain aneurysm over it. How the hell am I going to do this? Where do I even begin?! Yes, I've done SPSS in the past, but only with major guidance, and using simple tests, like t-test and a maximum of 3 variables. I have like 10 variables here! What do I even do?! Serene, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?! I foresee a few endless nights down the road reading up on SPSS.

Is there a free website that I can go that will help me analyze my data? I can pay in chocolates!

Crud.

2. Booooooooooks. 

Sad to say, I have been shamelessly neglecting stimulating my brain with new material other than the ones prescribed by the school. Its so incredibly difficult to find a book that I can immerse myself into and not want to get away from, like Dan Brown (oh my god his new book will be in stores soon!) and Jodi Picoult (who's work is sadly starting to become mediocre. She publishing more books in shorter periods and the quality of the storyline is simply lackluster and just sends chills of disappointment) and Lisa See.

I borrowed this book yesterday:

Finished this book earlier this evening and it explains how traditional parenting techniques to nurture children are surprisingly counter-intuitive and instead, putting children at risk for more behavioral and academic difficulties. For instance, the authors found that parents typically discourage talk of racial issues when the child is between 5 to 7 years old, because they perceive it to be an inappropriate and difficult issue for children to grasp. However, it turns out that 5-7 years is the age where children are actually beginning to draw their conclusions about racial issues, such as discrimination and the like. So while children are at a developmental period where they are cognitively learning and understanding race, parents aren't providing the platform to help them learn about it and risk having their children form negative conclusions about race. 

It also talks of intelligence, aggression and teen rebellion, and how parents' techniques in dealing with these developmental issues are actually counterproductive despite their best intentions. It makes for an interesting read, really because it completely challenges your idea of how parents should communicate and interact with their children to nurture them in the best way possible.

Though I was slightly disappointed in the authors' failure to provide sufficient implications of the findings and how the findings can be appropriated by parents who have long stuck to conventional parenting methods, or how parents can be convinced to adopt methods incorporating these findings. 

Am currently reading:

This book promises to teach women skills and advice about how to deal with setbacks in life, and how to do things that will earn you the respect that you want and deserve, for instance:

"Send back a meal that isn't prepared the way you ordered it"

"Politely decline when a friend asks you to do an unreasonably large favor"

"Convince a salesperson to reduce a fee"

If this book really promises what it says to deliver, then I definitely should read it because I am way too much of a pushover and lack assertiveness. I need to woman up. 

Guess this is enough for a long post. More next time! 

This was how I celebrated the end of exams:


- Eating Duck Pizza at Timbre (Raffles Place) with PJ and KH to celebrate KH's 24th birthday.
- Drinking my first alcoholic drink, a cocktail called pina colada, ordered for me by KH, simply because he is the birthday boy,  along with a few sips of KH and PJ's beer, PJ's Sex on the Beach and KH's Jagermeister which positively made my throat and tongue burn. How the hell do these people do it?!
- Listening to the live band at Timbre playing awesome 90s songs, such as my favorites that included Don't You Want Me, We Are Young and La Isla Bonita.
- Listening to PJ throw up after she downed a full bottle of beer and a few sips of Sex on the Beach.
- KH and I throwing PJ's unsteady self into the taxi to go home.
- KH and I deciding that 10pm was too early to go back and decided to go to the 1-Altitude rooftop bar. 
- KH buying me my second cocktail of the night, a Singapore Sling (a gin-based drink with pineapple and lime juice and a dash of Cointreau), while KH ordered an gin and tonic that made me wince. 
- Ordered a 3rd round of drinks on impulse after an hour, only because the waiter asked us if we wanted more drinks. KH ordered me another cocktail, an appletini (a vodka-based drink with apple juice that was definitely much stronger and I could only manage a few sips at one), while KH got another stronger gin and tonic that made me choke. KH had to finish my appletini for me. 
- Decided to go to Chinatown because KH was hungry
- We went to KH's favorite Chinese restaurant that has menus stating that the establishment sells "Fried Jew Ears" and "Saliva Chicken"
- There was talk of Singapore politics, history, traveling, relationships and for the strangest reason, sex.
- Laughed at the other European tourists yelling at the Chinese waiters (dumplings! We want dumplings! It's not rocket science!)
- Berating KH for downing 3 bottles of beer throughout our stay at the restaurant, and for drinking a total of 4 bottles of beer and 3 alcoholic drinks that burned my throat when I sipped them.
- Decided that it was time to leave because KH had a paper at 2pm later.
- We left at 5.12am.
- I got home at 5.30am and went to sleep at 5.45am.

I feel so alive right now. The best part? My parents had absolutely no idea what I was doing.