Vivien ♀ Twenty one (21) English Literature Major ✎ A Gleek ♬ I love you like a love song

Day 13 — A fictional Book

Uh, Midnight's Children? It's actually quite a riveting book for a 600+ page tome. But I'm not even halfway through it, dammit.

Day 07- A picture of someone/something that has the biggest impact on you

I don't know! I'm actually really stumped. Biggest impact in terms of what? In terms of ideologies? In terms of my aspirations? I don't think I can fairly say that a single thing has the "biggest" impact on me, because things just don't work out like that. But if you're talking about my world view, I'd say Roald Dahl, because he's such a wicked writer. I think some of my sarcasm was probably derived from his books I read as a kid.

So, you really need a picture?


Quentin Blake's awesome btw. I'm sure somewhere in my formative years Roald Dahl's books influenced my world views. Like how some adults (think Mr Wormwood) think too highly of themselves, while some terrorise children (Ms Trunchbull was the personification of evil, in my opinion), and others are just grotesque (The Grand High Witch, technically not even human). And his worlds are so imaginative I think I developed my escapist streak from there too. Especially the world of The BFG. I mean, dream-catching? Dream-mixing? Snozzcumbers (ew)? What an awesome world.

Because I'm just not ready to sleep yet, here's something random.

Okay bye.

Day 11 — A photo of you taken recently

(See Day 01 of other 30 Day thing)

Day 05- A picture of somewhere you’ve been to


The Venetian (Macau)! At least, the nice stairwell of the hotel. We're really an unglam bunch of people, aren't we?

And, because I don't want to do my readings for tomorrow's tutorial just yet,
Day 12 — Whatever tickles your fancy



Courtesy of Judy. Your brain will explode/your head will implode, I tell you.

Day 06- Favorite super hero and why

I've been puzzling over this one for some time already. I don't really have any favourites in terms of the superhero genre, because I've never been a huge fan of it. I mean, sure, they've got awesome powers and they're supposed to be all-powerful and save the world from certain destruction, but I've always thought Superman to be really lame because he's too close to being perfect. Sure, Batman's cool with all his emo-angst and all that, and Spiderman is also great because in real life he's a nerd and all that, but I'm just not that into superheros to actually have a favourite.

Whoa I just got sidetracked for an hour. So. Superhero? I'd say Rogue/Peter Petrelli from Heroes, because both of them have got the coolest power (the power to get others' powers). It's not like I like their characters or anything, but if I could choose a power I'd so have that power. It's like thieving from others, but they can't do anything about it. And Rogue is cool because of the white streak in her hair.

Right. I shall end off with some random thoughts/questions of the night:

1) Google TV seems awesome.

2) A few nights ago I was just lying in bed thinking blank thoughts (it's possible), and suddenly there was a series of drumming noises coming from somewhere nearby, although it sounded quite muffled. I was then reminded of Jumanji, y'know, the cartoon. I wonder if anyone else watched it. I remember being freaked out by the hunter-type guy. He was so sinister and unfeeling. I don't know how the idea for the cartoon was pitched. It's so dark.

3) Did you know there are over 400 types of French cheese? We're supposed to learn about French cheeses for the coming text. Je n'ai mangé pas le fromage française! If that's the correct tense to use.

4) I have a disgusting pimple behind my ear. It's freakin' gross, and yesterday it popped and blood and some dubious liquid started pouring out from it. Today it's all crusty. D:

5) My home internet connection sucks. A lot. I'm using my aunt's thumbdrive miracle internet thing (I have no idea what it's called. And come on, internet in a thumbdrive? Mi-ra-cle! Yeah there's a SIM card in it and whatnot, but I don't care, it works; it's a miracle) now. Je déteste ma connexion internet!

6) I have a tonne of cheesy songs in my iPod, but the cheesiest is Ghostbusters. I downloaded it for some project.

7) Why are there 8am lessons? Are professors and TAs all freaky workaholics? Come on, we all need sleep, and waking up at 6 is just pure torture. Dernier mercredi, je me suis réveillé à 6 heures et je sui arrivé à l'école à 8 heures. Then I decided to skip the tutorial. Hell I've never skipped a tutorial before in my life! Until this semester, where I skipped a two hour South Asian one and this New Media one. Where'a my love for tutorials? (Never had any love for them)

8) Does using auxiliary verbs (avoir and etre) mean that the sentence is now one of the past tense? I never knew the difference between the past tense and the perfect past or whatever. Ugh. Brain dying.

9) What would happen if there wasn't music in the world? Does music provoke deep thought? Why is literature important at all? Or is it not at all important, because the only people who read it are scholars and people who are removed from the realities of the world?

10) Why am I addicted to the internet? And, as a sidenote, I have more than twice as many Facebook photos as I have Facebook friends. Depending on how you read this, I am either an introverted narcissist or a narcissistic introvert. Or both.

Okay, good night! J'ai faim. :(

Day 10 — A photo of you taken over ten years ago

What. That means I was ten, which means I didn't own a digital camera, which means I don't have such pictures in my computer. I can, however, take a picture of a picture and bluetooth it over.


Ah, the wonders of technology! Yeah I was being sarcastic, my phone camera's resolution sucks ass. But wasn't (aren't) I a cute little 5 year old? Or 4? I'm not very sure when this was taken, I sure as hell wasn't ten, because I wouldn't be seen dead in that dress if I was ten at that time. Wonder where my nose disappeared to in this photo. Crap I'm so uncute now. >__>

Day 04- A habit that you wish you didn’t have

I'm a person chock-full of bad habits. I procrastinate, I chew on my nailbits, I'm semi-addicted to the internet, I think bad thoughts about people too frequently "I swear, OLs are the scum of society, look at them rushing into the MRT seats like a bunch of desperate spinsters they are!" (to be fair, I don't actually think that, I'm just making up a possible scenario), or "Ew, gross!" when I see some grossly narcissistic display picture of people on FB--get a grip, I don't want to see you acting all emo/seductive, or a fake-unintended moment webcam picture, tyvm. Anyway, I digress (another bad habit). I'm also often self-congratulatory, I over-rationalise things to make myself feel better, I put people down sometimes, I keep to myself too much, I don't speak unless I need to, and I have extremely bad dietary habits.

So after that whole chunk (I'm also overzealous when it comes to words) of bad habits, what would I like to discard? I cannot discard the procrastination one, because it's so integral to me I'd feel lost without it (excuse-making), I like putting people down if they deserve it (if I think they deserve it--too judgmental). In short, I like all those bad habits which constitute who I am as a person, because come on, who likes perfect people? Are there even perfect people? Assuming there are, I'd not want to be friends with one of them, because it'd be the same as befriending an automaton, except maybe you can switch an automaton off.

Enough about automatons. Anyway. One bad habit I'd get rid of is the bad dietary one, because I'm starting to develop gastric problems (runs in the family) because of irregular meals and stuff. Okay I'm bored of this topic already (short attention span, another bad habit).

I wanted to blog about something but I forgot what. So I shall talk about the haze. I hate it. It gave me a mother of all headaches (exaggeration, of course. The worst headache I got was after drinking a bottle of chicken essence in Primary six. It was debilitating, trust me) today, and I actually sat down on the MRT ride home. You know me, I don't ever sit on the ride home until Tampines. I don't know why, it's one of those unexplainable things in life. Of course for the ride to school it's different, because I need to sit to prevent myself from starting the school day pissed off from squeezing with people. Of course it kills me that I'd be hogging up a seat which could be given to more deserving people, so usually I sink into a sleep so deep I'm oblivious to my surroundings. Unless I happen to wake up and sneak a peek at someone who needs the seat, then I'd very very reluctantly give it up. That's why ignorance is bliss. As I was saying, I had such a bad headache that I needed to seat. Like, wtf. I hate the haze! It smells like some burnt pig which was left to rot for days. And I'm getting a sore throat just thinking about it.

Tl;dr--I friggin' hate the haze. And my internet connection. Effin' Singtel and its error message page. It's one of my most visited sites, believe it or not.

But enough of all the self-pity and hatred. Let me announce this here, because Facebook is trite and full of people who aren't really that close to me, so: I HAVE DECIDED TO MAJOR IN ENGLISH LITERATURE! (Imagined reader: "Big deal.")

But it is! I've been fluctuating between New Media and Literature for the longest time already, and although I find the topic of the internetz, and culture and the media incredibly interesting, I simultaneously find learning about statistics and, I don't know, research methods draining and stupendously boring. And even though I don't really believe in the divine, there are some signs that I should choose English Literature over New Media (so that my choice doesn't seem random):

1) A lecturer passionate about the subject

The main reason (besides the B+ I got in the EN module) I had decided to major in NM in Year 1 was the fact that the lesturers were, to put lightly, incredibly snobby and, worse, boring as sin. I don't know about you, but these are the worst traits a lecturer could ever have--it's like they're simultaneously telling you they are better that you (for example, by rattling on about some obscure literary device and linking every single flippin' thing to complicity. That's all I remember from EN1101E) and they don't really care that they are boring you because they are better than you. But this semester I actually got a competent lecturer who is interesting, verbose in an awkward manner, and really excited about the texts (so much so that our silences are usually comically painful). I mean, how many lecturers do you come across who truly seem to love what they teach? I've seen one in NM, who's the lecturer for NM2101 and NM3224. I took the former last semester, and am taking the latter this semester, and I think he's an awesome lecturer. So, this semester's literature module showed me that perhaps the department is not made up of soulless literature snobs with their upturned noses and a penchant for big words. And hopefully this means there are yet undiscovered joys in majoring in English Literature, as long as I don't take the modules taught by whatshername and her upturned nose.

2) My failure to secure a tutorial slot for the statistics module

This, my friends, is the pièce de résistance. I bid 600 points for the bloody module, in two separate rounds, and finally got it (I was so happy), then, when tutorial balloting started, I realise I only could make it for two timeslots, but hey, two's better than one, right? But nooooo the friggin' timeslots were the most popular ones, and guess what? I got neither. So I went on a begging blitz with the department, trying out the manual registration, sending emails to the tutor and the lecturer, praying to some divine form out there. But life has a funny way of working things out for you, so it decided that I wouldn't be taking this module, and thus I got neither slot. Which meant that I had to drop the module, not get back my precious 600 bid points, and only have four modules this semester. But it also meant that I didn't have lessons on Monday (but I do have choir practice, so), and that I could focus on getting my life on track in this seemingly "easy" semester (it so is not. French takes up 6 hours of my week, and choir ends at 9.30 every Monday and Thursday night, which means I reach home at 11.30, shagged to the bones). And after seating for three NM stats lectures and one tutorial I realised it was going to be one hell of a module. So maybe this is a sign telling me that I was never meant to major in New Media.

3) I didn't get a B for my first literature essay

Considering how I spent one day on it, and how I killed my brain cells stressing over how everyone in the class is smarter and better at literature than I am, I did pretty okay for the essay. I expected a B at most, because the last EN module I took, the exposure module, my grades for the essays went from B+ to B to B-/C+; you can't believe how disheartened I was. So when I got back this essay, I was literally trying to control a monstrous grin. There was a little trouble with the late submission (some of us put it in the wrong pigeon hole), so he thought that we only submitted the essay the next morning after the due date when we were on time, which meant he cut out grades by half a letter grade (don't even know what that means). You see, when he returned us the paper I didn't immediately turn it over to check the grades because written at the top in pencil was "Late submission, Tues Morning" and I thought I was screwed because if I got a B- it would mean a C+, which would suck. So the few of us crowded around him in polite protest. Then after some talking and revelations he told us he'd change our grades right then. So he flips his attendance sheet, with out grades, and I freaking got an A, and the shock of my life. I kept a pokerface throughout, of course. Then I met Leanne on the way to for lunch and it just burst out of me because it was the first A I got in literature and I was so sure I'd have to give up my wish to major in it because I thought I would be getting a dismal grade for it. I don't know, but I think that's a sign too, because even if I get dismal grades for future essays I won't forget that moment of hope when I got my first A. I really thought I was bad at literature and everything before was just a fluke.

4) The professor picked out all of my grammatical mistakes

For someone so anal about grammar I actually made two or three grammatical mistakes in the essay, which is a big deal. So that's a sign that I'd have to work harder and be more meticulous and fastidious in my writing. Aka more anal. And I like that, it's like a challenge, and everyone likes a challenge. And my gosh is he a careful reader or what?

5) I managed to finish half the books in the reading list

You know me, I've not finished reading Othello and I took longer than normal to finish The Tempest, which is the shortest Shakespeare plays I've read. Maybe I have a problem with Shakespeare. But I also took quite a long time to finish my first reading of P&P, but after that it read like a funny chick lit for the next two readings. Point is, I usually don't finish my literature books. It's either the stress of a short semester or genuine interest on my part, but this is a feat any way. AND IT'S A SIGN!

6) I haven't skipped any literature lectures/tutorials

But I've skipped one NM lecture and tutorial. A SIGN! Okay, not really a sign, but it means something, doesn't it?

Yeah, I don't really believe in signs, fate and destiny, but maybe not everything is mundane and coincidental right? We all want to believe that something has meaning, which is why I'm studying literature, because in literature there are meanings in things. And even if there weren't, not majoring in NM means that I wouldn't have to take the statistics module, which I totally don't have the desire to take. Will I change me mind again? Right now I'd say no, I've made up my mind. But then again, I change my mind like a girl changes clothes (and I PMS like a bitch too haha), to quote Katy Perry and Chip. Eh. You know what? I've really made up my mind; I'm majoring in English Literature, not turning back once I've published this.

And in the future, who knows, maybe this would be the best decision I've ever made in my life. Life's a gamble anyway, so roll on, dudes. Uncertainty makes everything fun. It's both the sinking feeling in your stomach and the nauseating feeling of anticipation. And the fact that you're not in control. It's all very liberating (and sickening).

Whoa this is one long post, isn't it? I want to watch Glee! It's 1.18 now and I'm totally sleepy. But happy, because, well, I don't know why either. Je ne sais pas, mais je suis contente.

Oops I kinda screwed up the previous post by editing it on my phone, so I decided to send it to the drafts section first before I fix it again. I accidentally deleted all the photos. Sheesh, thanks a lot, Opera mini.

Day 08 — A photo that makes you angry/sad


No, no I'm not angry when I look at this photo. I'm also not particularly saddened by this photo. It's more of a melancholic form of nostalgia, not necessarily sadness. And although I still miss those days, it's getting better; I've grown used to long periods of solitude, and I can't really say I miss the socialising sort of small talk, because I really don't.

Oh but if the theme for Day 08 was "A screenshot which irks you", here's it:


Really, NUS people on FB? Really? Your idea of a laugh is to post humiliating pictures of sartorially-challenged people on Twitter and Facebook? Not that they have anything on it yet, and they did posit that it's all in the name of "light-heartedness", this is probably their idea of innocent fun. But this is the internet, an entity which had robbed me of my innocence when I was 14. Nothing nice about it; it may start out light-hearted, but you know people, we're all mean-spirited. It irks me that you can't even afford to dress horribly without being judged online. Sheesh, talk about a police state. Some days you just want the luxury of dressing in big shorts and shirts, wearing your oldest pair of flip-flops and carrying a 5 year old bag without being judged! I want the freedom to make bad sartorial choices without people criticising them on Facebook! I want the freedom to be sloppy and ugly, and the freedom to revel in looking so!

I could go on about image and society, but it's a trite topic, so.

Day 02- The meaning behind your Tumblr/LJ/Blogger name

Wait, do you mean the address of my blog or the name under which I blog? Well, I'll just do both since I'm bored. The whole "we-are-still-invisible" thing is obviously a continuation of "we-are-invisible" after a prank (by Soke Muay and Krystal) forced me to close it down because I don't like people reading my blog and thinking that all that was a desperate plea to garner more readers, because, come on, I'm awesome at blogging and I don't need more readers. Okay I'm not awesome at blogging, but I didn't need more readers at that time and I definitely am not so desperate for attention. Anyways

And "we-are-still-invisible"/"we-are-invisible" comes from when I was fifteen in Sec 3 and I was all angsty and, you know, "I HATE Y'ALL". And then there was the whole class rift thing and all I wanted to do was to express my angst in a discrete (but not) fashion. In short the title represents how I felt at that time, and who I am. Yes, no one can be defined by a single label, like "invisible", but when you're fifteen and still forming your worldviews you need to first define yourself roughly, and I guess invisibility was the first thing which came to my mine.

I don't have a LJ account, and my Tumblr account name is the same as my Blogger account name, Vapidmusings. Because all my musings are rather vapid in the whole scheme of things, but no one says being vapid is bad. We all need to rest our brains.

I don't Tumble(?) much, anyway.

And because I am still bored and have nothing much to blog about, I shall break the rules of time and space:

Day 09 — A photo you took


Of course, this, because Choo seems to like it. And they do look happy, don't they?

Day 03- A picture of you and your friends


This is one of my favourite group pictures ever. It's not so much the image composition or the moment captured (we're pretty much just posing), but rather what it invokes/evokes. It looks so 80's old-school DHS, except for our spiffy ankle socks. Not on Chip though, Chip totally looks the part.

Yeah that's enough nostalgia for an entry. Let's talk about censorship! I'm watching Glee on Channel 5, the Gaga episode, and they cut out the entire part where Burt speaks about his acceptance of homosexuals and how it is okay to be one. Because, you know, it's illegal to be gay in Singapore, which is incredibly sad (okay, actually I exaggerate. I mean it's illegal to have gay sex, which isn't the same, but close enough). Not that people care much, because the government cannot spy on what goes on in your room, or can they?. Anyway, the part they cut out contributed a lot to the emotional background of the scene, and by cutting it out it really diminishes that, and you're like "Why's Kurt crying? Sheesh, what a sissy". Take a chill pill, Mediacorp, screening a character expressing acceptance of homosexuals isn't punishable by the state.

Alors, je dois aller lire Midnight's Children, bonne nuit! Au revoir!

Day 07 — A photo that makes you happy


This was one of my favourite celebrations. It was at Suntec City and we were making all sorts of nonsensical song dedications to Xu Mei (Sexy Back) and just getting really high on ice-cream cake and the fountain water; I don't mean we drank it, we were in close proximity to it and we were soaked by the spray. Ah, I love my friends.

Day 01- A recent picture of you and 5 facts about yourself


There, a recent photo of me, with part of the choir, in all my matronly glory. Huzzah!

5 totally interesting, crucial facts about me which you, as a friend and a reader, have to know:

1) I have a really low speaking voice but for some weird reason I've always been sent to the Soprano 1 section. It's really disturbing when I open my mouth to speak and out comes the gruff, manly baritone, and then go on attempting to hit high Fs and such.

2) I just read Judy's really funny and touching post about turning 20. I'm simultaneously quite moved and tickled by all the memories I remembered after reading it.

3) I'm totally addicted to the internet, and its subset, Facebook. I can't help it that half the schoolwork and information can only be accessed online. Which means that every time I check IVLE for 2 minutes I end up reading random articles and visiting crappy sites for 5 hours.

4) I don't know what it's like to be in love with somebody. Why this sudden revelation? Again, it's Judy's post about her possibly having some future developments in that direction, woohoo!

5) I slaughter French. Let's face it, I suck at French.

Yeah, there you go, 5 immensely interesting facts about myself. And it's 12.53am. I have to wake up at 6am tomorrow. Oh by the way, I applied for SEP! My first choice is UC Berkeley, which rejected me when I applied using my prelim results (which sucked). But you know what? I recently checked out their requirements, and it turns out that you have to score above 680 in the SAT Writing Section to qualify to enter, and I only scored 590. I don't even know how to score well in the essay section, since the ones I read online were crap and were of a different sort of crap from what I usually write. Fluffy crap, actually. Ah well.

Anyway I'm not hedging my bets on getting a place, because really, my CAP isn't all that fantastic and the Universities I chose were all pretty high in standard. Darn it.

It's 20102010, as NBK pointed out (yes Judy, I was stalking your wall). Happy Birthday Judy! Believe it or not, she's (you're) one of my best friends in the world despite the love-hate conversations we occasionally have on Facebook. ♥

"Imagination."

There.

Crap you need to host the image to get the gif going. It's late. Okay, 11.41pm isn't that late, but then again 5am is way too late, so I shall try my hand at some sleep compensation. Which the experts say don't work at all, but tch, what do experts know?

Okay, really, good night.

Darn, the gif wouldn't work. I am a noob. Okay sleep.

Alas, I am resorting to this:

Day 01- A recent picture of you and 5 facts about yourself
Day 02- The meaning behind your Tumblr/LJ/Blogger name
Day 03- A picture of you and your friends
Day 04- A habit that you wish you didn’t have
Day 05- A picture of somewhere you’ve been to
Day 06- Favorite super hero and why
Day 07- A picture of someone/something that has the biggest impact on you
Day 08- Short term goals for this month and why
Day 09- Something you’re proud of in the past few days
Day 10- Songs you listen to when you are Happy, Sad, Bored, Hyped, Mad
Day 11- Another picture of you and your friends
Day 12- How you found out about Tumblr/LJ/Blogger and why you made one
Day 13- A letter to someone who has hurt you recently
Day 14- A picture of you and your family
Day 15- Put your iPod on shuffle: First 10 songs that play
Day 16- Another picture of yourself
Day 17- Someone you would want to switch lives with for one day and why
Day 18- Plans/dreams/goals you have
Day 19- Nicknames you have; why do you have them
Day 20- Someone you see yourself marrying/being with in the future
Day 21- A picture of something that makes you happy
Day 22- What makes you different from everyone else
Day 23- Something you crave for a lot
Day 24- A letter to your parents
Day 25- What I would find in your bag
Day 26- What you think about your friends
Day 27- Why are you doing this 30 day challenge
Day 28- A picture of you last year and now, how have you changed since then?
Day 29- In this past month, what have you learned
Day 30- Who are you?

Why not? I pretty much gave up on the previous one, even though I really wanted to finish it. So, I shall do both simultaneously! That would hep me when topics are scarce. Anyway, I set a new Procrastination Record: A 2500 word essay, complete with in-depth research (journals, online books, you name it), MLA citation, footnotes (superfluous), and bibliography, in two days! Come on, admit it, that is awesome, even for my crapping standards.

Maybe I can do my thesis in like, a week. I am kidding. I hope.

Anyway, I stopped at Day 6 in my failed list, so:
Day 06 — Whatever tickles your fancy


"Imagination." (I don't know if Blogger allows for gifs. Shall try my luck)

Shudder. The quotation marks just reminded me of the horror which is academic citation. I took at least two hours to complete it, and after that it was already 4 in the morning and I was delirious after staring at the underlines and periods and dates. Horrible.

Day 01- A recent picture of you and 5 facts about yourself

Eh I shall skip that; I need my sleep considering how I slept at 5 in the morning yesterday. At this rate I'd die at what, 30? Tomorrow then! I have a mid-term exam tomorrow, and its for the South Asian module. So here's the catch-I haven't actually done any readings outside my essay topic, and I skipped the lecture on India, so I'm pretty much officially screwed. Luckily, the nice lecturers put in plenty of information into the slides and if I don't fall asleep on the train tomorrow I may actually get some reading done.

Fingers crossed.

Oh one last thing. I really enjoyed the essay-writing and research/reading interesting journal articles process, even though it was such a mad rush and I'm pretty sure I didn't create something entirely awesome (in fact I think it was quite incoherent and badly pieced together), but considering how I slacked off, the trade-off in terms of quality is something I can live with. I guess I don't really get the enjoyment of writing essays much because somehow the feeling is always offset or overshadowed by the feeling of panic caused by the pressing deadline and/or impending doom.

But you know what, I like writing essays, because it's like blogging, except it obviously isn't. I don't know, maybe I just like it that I'm writing something which will be read by someone who is an expert in the matter and that feeling is rather cool, no?

I need booze, obviously. It will make my boring life and boring ol' self (I mean, sheesh, who likes writing essays?) seem less boring, because that's what booze does to your brains. It cons you into thinking everything is not boring. I've always wondered what it feels like to do something utterly different and not me, because right now, I'm sick of me.

But that'll probably pass after the mid-terms tomorrow. And, like Spongebob suggests, you can create (or rather, believe in) anything if you have Imagination. But right now I need sleep more, so bonne nuit! Je dois dormir.

Oh gosh I'm absolutely wiped out. But I don't feel like sleeping. Is that bad?

Tonight, I shall contemplate ugliness. Life is sometimes full of ugliness, be it literal ugliness or the metaphorical ugliness of humanity. Sometimes you can rate ugliness, like "OMG Look at that Vivien, always dressed so sloppily in slippers, shorts and tees. So ugly!", and rate this Vivien person a 10 on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being absolutely hideous (just a side note, I revel in my ugly sloppiness thank you very much). Sometimes you see someone's ugly behaviour and you are absolutely pissed off by it, and you pass a judgment condemning the person to hell.

But I'm not contemplating that sort of ugliness. I'm contemplating an ugliness which goes beyond your idea of what is ugly. You see, there are two categories of ugly. One is the normal human range of ugly. The other, the one which goes beyond the norm, is the category of choir gowns.

You see, in my life I have come into close contact with three different formal choir gowns, and I shall now tell you how the scale works according the the three. The least offensive of the three, merely Ugly, is my sister's choir gown from her ex-choir. It's this silver piece with a ribbon on it, and it says "I'm young and I'm in a choir. This gown is slightly misshaped, but it's silver". Then there's the formal DHS choir gown, which, as most of you know, is pink and has a long organza sleeve. This, on the scale, marks the point of hideousness. The gown says "I am trying too hard to look feminine and youthful. This gown looks like a sleeping gown". And in fact, I'm not just talking about the design, which is hideous in its own right, but I'm also talking about the fit. If the gown is too loose you look like a stick in a sack and/or a sleepwalker. If the gown is too tight you look like a stuffed pig. If it fits you just right you look like a ridiculously overgrown six year old. Lose-lose-lose situation.

But let me assure you, the DHS choir gown pales in comparison to what I'm about to wear tomorrow. This, on the scale of choir gown ugliness, marks the point of no return, the ugliness so hideous that it sucks your soul dry and leaves you an empty shell, desolate. This one says "I am old and thus I shall put on colours which show you how old I am". In case you are wondering, the gown's this shade of hideous green, with a golden-yellow organza outerwear thing. I shudder. So I borrowed some gowns from seniors, and the ones which were tight screamed "slightly conservative middle-aged female pimp" (conservative only because of the outerwear), while the loose on screamed "pig in a green sack, disguised as a female". Of course I chose the latter, because if I managed to get the zipper up with some help (it couldn't go beyond the chest area) I would still look like a pimp and one would rather look like a pig than a pimp, no?

So anyway, choir gowns are the ugliest sins to ever (dis)grace this Earth. Maybe it helps distract people if any mistakes were made.

But despite that I am looking forward to performing tomorrow, because it's been years since I've had that adrenaline-fuelled sensation of performing on stage.

Oh another thing before I doze off, I totally slaughtered the French language today during the oral examination. And the only thing I remember distinctly is repeating "Très bien" like an idiot, and conjugating peux as poulons. I screwed up this one, fo'shure. La professeure was telling us how it sounded like we were saying chicken in French. But I swear, on day I'll be speaking French in a coherent manner and not ask things like "Quel est tu faite", which, on hindsight, is utterly horrible. But I tell you, I panicked when she told us that our conversation was too short, so we had an impromptu conversation, which I closed off with "Nous poulons (should have been pouvons) voir la mer!", which was, I must say, the best thing I had impromptu-ed in French.

Eh self-pity is for suckers. Besides, I'm more amused than distraught by it. And who's got the time to fret over oral tests when they've got two essays due next week? Worry is for wimps. I shall de-wimpify myself! All right then, bonne nuit! Nous poulons voir la mer! Au revoir!

Sometimes I feel like dropping out of school. Then the feeling passes and I watch TV programs to numb my senses and allow myself to forget about pending essays. I am so screwed.

In the meantime, I want to watch Dinner for Schmucks and maybe Eat Pray Love, because I'm in the mood for some cheap laughs or cheap emotions.

Well. Good night!

Chip ★ Choo ♥ Cecilia ★ Judy ♥ Linette & Yingxian ★ Jiayin ♥ Vina ★ Skins ♛ Twitter ☁ Blogger ☢ Facebook ☠ Tumblr ♐

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