Thursday, June 30
Any movie about ballroom dancing, especially Latin ballroom, is good.
I say so.
Miramax film again. Strictly Ballroom is not the most fantastic show, but it was hilarious with strangely bitter moments thrown in. Sort of like cotton candy with bits of black licorice in between. The fact that neither leads were extraordinarily good-looking made the whole film even more tasteful. It is little wonder its director is oh-so-famous Baz Luhrmann whose belt holds Romeo and Juliet and Moulin Rouge. It's the way the shots progressed with the plot, I tell you.
I like the library in my school merely for recreational purposes, sadly. Movie-watching takes on a new dimension when I am doing it in school and the movie are ulu ones.
Shiok.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 2:50 AM
Monday, June 27
Drained, inside out.
How Green Vision could be so mentally and physically gruelling remains the eighth-or-thereabout wonder. Snip Bauhaus from the picture and I can safely declare that I've never run so fast around NP ever, prior to today. I never realised my stamina could push me thus far.
What an achievement.
Funny people are telling me funny things nowadays.
Yet in all contentment, I can now proudly say that I've found my love in Him.
I'm not looking around; just waiting for the person He intended for my life.
This person who will chase Him with me.
I can't wait to watch A Lot Like Love!
Hurry, Emily! Oh, and Kim too!
(:
d e b b e e e kvetched at 9:14 PM
Monday, June 20
So little time.
Unaffected for quite a few months, then afflicted by the merciless T-factor.
It's not often that I forgo blogging - it hurts.
As with many other things.
Like saying sorry.
No matter how small my share of blame is, or rather as little as what I wish to think it as, there's no escaping from those awful words of apology. It's terribly painful to deny myself, my rights, my dignity. Look, I'm stuck and I need to get on with catching up. With Him, that is. Like what Alisa jf, my good'ol friend, always says (with almost indecent enthusiasm)," DIE! THE OLD YOU NEED TO DIE WITHIN FOR CHRIST TO FULLY LIVE IN YOU!" Or something to that extent, at the very least.
So here I am, aching in the death of my worthless pride and invalid excuses. Damn, I can't trudge along with my own make-belief anymore, can I? I need more space to open my eyes wide and inhale deeply the very essence. I need less of me and more of Him. More of His glory. More and more and more and more and more.
It's never enough.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:50 AM
Thursday, June 9
Did I mention magic is transcient?
Damn, it is so.
The very same day I was transitorily teleported to cloud nine, I got hurled down to rock-bottom reality when I lalala-ed away from the nice print-for-free lab at 53-03-06 without my thumbdrive.
My black and silver, swivelling Imation thumbdrive with all the precious and unretrievable information inside, lost.
We (comprising friends who bore testimony for my presence in 56-03-06, sympathetic MeL guys and my lamenting self) are very, very certain that it was an FMS student who conveniently took the forlorn-looking thumbdrive from the workstation I was seated at.
Higher probability goes to the FMS guy who was sitting in front of me. I was at the back row and he, the second.
Anybody reading this should really help me ask around. I am all of a dither now, seriously. There are my photos and leadership essays and two unrecoverable powerpoint slides, which I truly have to get back.
Gossip, pry, snoop, laugh at my misfortune, whatever - just get the word around that a poor girl has lost her Imation thumbdrive at 53-03-06 on Monday and she needs it back.
Go.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 7:32 PM
Monday, June 6
It's magic... ... it really is.
How else can you explain how I can finish my management essay about Gandhi before noon today?
Even classmates who pointed me to 53-03-06 when I foolishly brought an uncharged laptop?
Generous friends who lend me management books for desperate referencing?
Or how about those magical sheets of paper that mysteriously appeared beside the printer?
Exactly six sheets I found, and I used all of them up for my essay.
The magic of this entity called God.
Gaaah! I always screw things up and expect Him to clear my mess for me.
Same thing on Saturday, Sunday and then again, today.
I need to learn to be less messier.
More of a good girl.
Bah.
They are all away at camp in Malacca and I am slogging here in Singapore.
Lovely.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:38 AM
Friday, June 3
It has been clinically proven that blogging regularity increases with my return to school. Underlying reason is the positive relationship between hours spent in school and throngs of complaints. One has much more to rant about when school is a pesky nuisance.
Oooh! I am such an MRM freak now.
(MRM stands for Media Research Methods,
possibly the most mundane module that has ever existed.)
I hate guitar chords with 9 and sus4 and I hate green tea.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 2:56 PM