time’s a bitch and then you die. Monday, Dec 31 2007

So this is it. one more bloody day to another bloody year. I look back to 2007 and nothing appears in my mind. NOTHING. Just 365 days filled with time wasted, time gone, and time cherished. TIME. People, that’s the word that matters the most in our universe.

Do you know what time does to you? Time changes you. Time makes you grow older. That goes either way: you become wiser or more dumb. i can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually dislike Green Day now. In fact, I’m starting to have a firm dislike for many punk bands now. This means half of my CD collection should be burnt. Yesterday when my friend played American Idiot loudly over the stereo, i actually went over and shut it off. Horrified, i went home and fished out The Sex Pistols, Green Day and Blink 182, only to discover that the songs i originally tripped out on were in fact irritating.

Now, what fills my earphones are The Red Hot Chilli Peppers, The White Stripes, Moby, The Strokes, among others. I’m digging alternative rock now. Congratulations! I’ve officially progressed from being a angry punk to a psychedelic and stoned being. So have i grown wiser? Which is worse? As my friend puts it: “when you stop liking punk, you grow up.” Thank you, Time, for making me hate my favourite genre of music.

Time is unhealthy. Look what time has done to my mother. As she adds yet another year to her burdened shoulders, I’m losing her. Literally. This is the most number of times I’ve seen her have a breakdown. She puts on make-up, but at the end of the day, what i see are wrinkles. Heartaches. Pain. Lord knows what’s going to happen to her next year. She laughs at one moment, and then breaks plates at another. Either way, her hair falls. Thank you, Time, for stealing my mother’s life.
 

Time is heartless. With the passage of time, music dies slowly. The radio is filled with crap, with half-grown men playing the guitar badly, piling on tons of wax on their miserable heads, and belting out worthless noises which many teenagers refer to as “music”. Time is killing us all, too. Men share make-up with their girlfriends. They go for spas. They think that as long as they keep themselves looking “good”, girls will sleep with them even if they have air in their brains. Sadly, with time, most girls do fall for such assholes. Thank you, time, for making legions of teen girls pregnant before they turn 13.

Time’s a bitch. In three days’ time, i have to go back to school, where i have to glue my rear end to green cold plastic, and stare at people with zero fashion sense who scream about Sulphur Dioxide and Logarithms. Things scrawled on whiteboards. Words I see but don’t comprehend. Canteen food that doesn’t even qualify as edible. Putting on a smiling mask and obliging every request.
 

Thank you, time, for letting me graduate in exactly one year.

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the last present. Wednesday, Dec 26 2007

okay. so christmas is over. i must admit that the presents i’ve gotten have been slightly disappointing. especially for one scenario where i gave Ms-So-and-So a very nice present (read: worth more than ten bucks) and all she gave me was this miserable towel. hello, a towel?! was she trying to suggest that my face was too oily or something? i hate it when you get something thoughtful for a person and he/she gives you something totally disappointing and, well, cheap.

i know that the thought counts, blah blah blah. but really… i think there should be a limit when it comes to giving gifts. please don’t give stuff that’s so downright.. cheap. i hate to say this but money does matter. if you really can’t afford something fancy, then at least put in some effort and make the gift thoughtful. like how for my birthday once, a bunch of friends got together and gave me a fishbowl filled with pieces of chalk, with well-wishes written on them. i’m sure the fishbowl was an old one (it was pretty obvious) and chalk ain’t that expensive either. but what touched me was their thoughtfulness.

please don’t wrap your old towel and masquerade it as a gift. nor should you wrap up your ill-fitting undies.

someday, i hope that i’ll get my perfect christmas present. i hope that i’ll find this large box under my tree addressed to me. then i’ll peel off the wrapper and voila! he will emerge and serenade me with songs. yes, all i want for christmas (and in the distant future) would be:

i want him. guitar and all.

all i want for christmas is JOHN FRUSCIANTE.

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funny moments of 2007. Monday, Dec 24 2007

this has been one hell of a year. this is the first time I’ve actually utilised my brain capacity (biology, chemistry, physics, additional math, e math, chinese, english literature, social studies, art and design) and also, this is the first holiday that I’ve ABSOLUTELY RETURNED EVERY SINGLE CRUMB OF MY SYLLABUS BACK TO MY TEACHERS. it took me 5 hours to finish 5 math sums and i knew i lost touch.

strangely enough, there are some things that i can never forget. i remember stupid, irrelevant stuff when i can’t even remember what formulas i learnt. many times during exams, when i try to summon some exotic math formula, i’ll remember what my friend wore for a party instead. do you get that kind of problem? it can be really irritating. like how, right now, i’m trying to blog about the significant moments of 2007 for me but i only remember zany, wacky shit in bits and pieces.

• body language.my friend and his mother were having an argument and she said something like, “of course i’m angry. can’t you read my body language?” and then he said “oh great. i’ll communicate with you using my penis from now on.”
• conversations with yun qi.Yun Qi happens to be a very funny classmate of mine. during/after lessons, she’ll share some stupid jokes with me that had me in stitches. some examples:

what fruit does the cucumber turn into when it falls down? ans: brinjal, because it’s blue-black.

what does the green bean turn into when it commits suicide? ans: a red bean, because it’s bleeding.

• bus fountain. i happened to be in this bus and it was raining like hell. as the bus drove, whoosh! suddenly a great spurt of water shot out of a hole in the bus floor and proceeded to flood the bus. one unsuspecting man sat down and placed his foot at the hole. when the bus drove off again, the water shot out and he screamed.
• laughing at the wrong times. this is one big fault of mine. yesterday while carolling in front of some big shots, one member had to do a solo verse. he was seriously off-key and so i started giggling, then laughing really badly and i had to control it. so imagine: i was silently vibrating violently while the rest stood still. later, while i had to read out a serious bible verse, i suddenly thought about his singing and burst out laughing.
• DIY vibrators. at a party, there was this truth or dare round, and my friend picked a dare. he had to place a vibrating phone (a song was playing, and the phone vibrated along to the tempo) in his undies for the entire duration. so we watched as he squirmed, his face turned red, and he started laughing. the phone vibrated for like 5 minutes and soon he was rolling, crawling and even doing star jumps. suddenly he yelled, “it’s tugging at my candy floss!”
• simpsons scene.

Woman: this is a lie detector. it will tell if you’re lying or not. understand?

Homer: understand. (the machine blows up)

• spaghetti trouble. i was at dinner one night. my friend, eager to impress a girl, took a strand of spaghetti and said “watch. i can twist this into a knot using only my tongue.” so he puts it inside his mouth and starts contorting his face. suddenly he snorts it and he starts choking. as for the spaghetti, it emerged from his nostrils mixed with his nasal juice.
• blacknosed teacher. my physics teacher, engrossed in Newtonian Dynamics, used his hand to dust the whiteboard. and then he rubbed his face. looking like some caveman he continued to teach the class. he saw us giggling and we told him, so he immediately tried to rub it off. however, he only succeeded in making is face look like another blackboard.
• treasure hunting. i watched a parliament session on TV one day, and instead of listening to the sermon i observed a certain minister sitting in the background (i won’t say who) fall asleep, bob his head, then wake up and proceed to dig his nose. he examined the stuff and flicked it away, then dug and dug before falling asleep again.
• strange dish. at this chinese restaurant, the waiter recommended to us the chef’s specialty dish called “Mum’s meatballs”. the first thing thing that came to my mind was: “do they come in twos?”
• engrish.com this site has given me endless hours of laughter. one example:

well, that’s all that crosses my mind now. they may not be funny for you but they sure did make me LAUGH!!!

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me versus God. Friday, Dec 21 2007

(hmmm, why am I constantly blogging about God nowadays.)

I feel very spiritual now. Saint-like, immaculate and ready to wear a halo. However there is still a constant queasy feeling that arrests me. And today, I think it’s time I put my thoughts down before I do something illegal or drastic.

Yesterday I had the most meaningful carolling session ever, because my youth group visited some homebound (ill) parishioners of my church. In previous years, carolling meant making a nuisance of ourselves, wandering the streets and singing off-key Christmas carols in sudden bursts, marking our path with Coke cans and staying out till the wee hours of the morning. This year, however, it was a clean affair which was proper and goody-goody.

The thing is, now that I’ve placed Christ in a higher position in my life, I have to bid farewell to many things which I previously enjoyed. For most of my teen life so far, I’ve been the punk bitch at heart. Surprising right? But true. Although I do not exactly dress like one due to restrictions from my mum, I’ve always acted/thought in that mindset. I listen to mostly rock music (which is not very Christian), and I’ve sung along to downright Anti-Christ music with lyrics like “Come on God, Do I seem bulletproof?” or “Jesus having cigarettes and coffee with the underbelly.” At first it was the music that attracted me. Then the lyrics and the lifestyle that came along with it comfortably ingrained itself into my mind. Soon I pretty much adored the punk lifestyle, the attractiveness of drugs, the foul language, the blunt humour, the lack of respect for authority, and the free-wheeling life without any baggage.

Coming from a very strict family, the (sinful) punk lifestyle become my ultimate dream. It was everything I ever wanted. The entire world was having great expectations on me. If I didn’t top the class for one lousy grammar test, my English teacher would give me a long sermon and ask if I was having a boyfriend. If my socks were short my teacher would go “you’re a role model, you’re supposed to lead by example blah blah blah.” Everytime anyone  blabbered at me, I’d silently wish that i could show him the finger, spit at his face and drop out of school. There was a punk living in me. All I ever wanted was to run away with a small band of friends and get lost. Far away from everyone. To do all the things people told me not to do. In short, to be young, wild and restless.

You will probably say, “oh, but the punk lifestyle is silly and pointless. When you’re old what are you gonna do? What will your future be like?” precisely. I was sick of living in a calculated, sensible and ordered world. So I just wanted to RUN AWAY.

And then God came along. He touched my life, and I felt so much better. I was almost ready to leave all my hateful thoughts and ambitions and follow Him. That is, almost. Before going to bed last night I decided, on a whim, to play Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit. Then memories came flooding back. I played rock song after rock song and I tripped out. Suddenly I realised that if I was going to be God’s child, all these had to go. But I loved them so much! The music! The restlessness! The anger! Punk! I couldn’t let go. It fitted so well with my loud personality.

Now I’m stuck at the crossroads. It was the hedonistic decadence or holiness. It was pursuing music or graduating with honours. It was cussing and swearing or swallowing my anger. It was migrating or staying in Singapore with mum. It was doing drugs or keeping clean. It was premarital sex or staying celibate. It was lies or truth. It was me or God.

Right now, I just don’t want to think about it anymore. I’m getting sick and tired of this tug-of-war within me. Let me play The White Stripes and dream of the Californian sunset.

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good bye and good luck. Wednesday, Dec 19 2007

for tarra frasier, the girl who’s going away. 

I’m lost for words. Speechless and numb.
Memories flood back. Crumb by crumb.
We put up a front, but it’s not okay
You’re still here, but you’re going away.

It’s the final phase, and we still pretend.
It seems this carousel ride will never end.
I help you pack. We sort your clothes.
And then it hits me: I’ll miss you. Loads.

Remember the times we dressed up for Halloween?
We terrified your sister and made kiddies scream.
Remember the time we fell for the same guy?
We fought so hard we made each other cry.

You had your friends, and I had mine.
But still every Tuesday, precisely at 9
We’d chat on the phone, while our mums weren’t home.
Our victories, we’d laugh; over defeats, we’d groan.

We watched each other grow up, puberty and all.
Puzzling over tampons in the bathroom stall
Stealing and putting your mother’s make-up
Giving you tissue when you had your first break-up.

Sneaking out at night, getting lost all the time
The look our parents gave us, like we committed a crime.
Laughing at you as you choked on cigarettes
Going crazy, getting caught, but without regrets.

You were the dancing queen, I was the model student.
You pranced around in high heels, while I couldn’t.
I’d laugh at a joke, and you’d go “Huh?”
When I said “this book’s good!” you said “Duh!”

The past recedes, but your departure arrives.
Thanks for the memories, they’ll stay in my archives.
I can’t fit in your luggage, so in Singapore I’m stuck.
Your room’s nearly empty. So good bye and good luck.

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suddenly i see! Monday, Dec 17 2007

  Honestly speaking, I’ve been somewhat disconnected from God for a very long period of time. Yes, I do go to church weekly and all, plus I pray at home at irregular intervals (mostly after prompting from my mum). But for many, many months I had pulled out the plug on God.

I don’t exactly hang out with nuns/priests, and many of my closest friends are agnostic/atheistic. So slowly I started to treat God like a nosy mother, like the school discipline teacher. I had reached a stage where I was cussing fluently using His name. I really didn’t feel him anymore.

So I guess my church group camp came really timely. I had a very spiritual weekend with my fellow friends and sponsors from Christ The King Church. We checked into IHM retreat house @ highland road, and soon my cynicism was to be removed.

We had tons of activities on the first day but somehow my heart was like a stone; i wasn’t moved an iota. The second day was much, much better. In one silly activity my team had to fill an empty bucket twenty feet away with one miserable plastic cup with three big holes. I nearly skidded in the process but it was fun!

Later on I had a heart-to-heart talk with Elaine and Ilona and suddenly I realised that I was THE ONE actually trying to put a concrete wall between myself and Him. I was afraid to admit that in numerous areas of my life, i chose a pretty selfish and sinful lifestyle. I was afraid to admit that I actually liked to sin.

I had the most interesting of dinners that day because I was blindfolded. Bernard stuffed food in my mouth in large, choking pieces while Iggy and Dennis made digestion an uphill task for me by tickling me at various places, poking me here everywhere, messing my hair and cracking endless jokes. By the end of it I was ready to throw everything up because I was laughing too hard!

What followed was deeply moving. After some games, we were led to a room and the verse where Jesus washed the feet of his disciples was read out. Without warning (I was still blindfolded), someone suddenly took my feet and started to wash them with hot water! I was pretty stunned. Joy (I think) hugged me tight and I hugged her. I can’t really put to words how I felt, but I was overwhelmed and speechless. By the end of it everyone was tearing/overwhelmed, even act-cool Iggy.

The praise and worship session afterwards was really a first for me. Normally, I feel paiseh to sing outright. For some strange reason I hated praise and worship and very often I’d make fun of people who sang praise-and-worship songs. That night, with Bernard’s size XXXXXXXXL jacket on me, as i faced the crucifix, I suddenly thought “what the hell. Why should I care about looking stupid? I’m going to sing for Him.” I was having severe sore throat. Amazingly, we all lifted our hands and I sang my heart out. I lost all lethargy, forgot I was sick, and I just praised Him. this continued until the wee hours of the morning.

I must say that this camp has been really different for me. Usually church camp meant playing Truth Or Dare until the next morning, bitching during sessions, or socialising. This time round, it was definitely greater than that. Yes, we had alot of fun and laughter. But I also had a reality-check. It was as if I was blindfolded all along, and now I see. Now I’m afraid that I’ll lose my faith again and become the same old God-doubting Jenny who secretly thought the Bible was one big Harry Potter Novel.

I must try to accept Him again.

Before I end this, I think this verse on a card that was given to me during camp is especially meaningful.

I carry a cross in my pocket

A simple reminder to me

Of the fact that I’m Christian

No matter where i may be

This little cross is not magic

Nor is it a good luck charm

It isn’t meant to protect me

From every physical harm

It’s not an identification

For the world to see

It’s a simple understanding between my saviour and me

It reminds me to be thankful for my blessings everyday

And to strive to serve Him better

In all I do or say

It’s also a daily reminder

Of the peace and love i share

With all who know my Master

And give themselves to His care

So i carry a cross in my pocket

Reminding no one but me

That Jesus is always there by my side

If only i let him be.

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