{ and we'll play summer on repeat;

Sunday, April 26, 2009

hello, old friend. 5:49 AM

Sunday I'm hopeful.

I've held my breath for the past four months and now it's two weeks to the final verdict.
Please, God, please.
I've been picking 11:11's out of night skies and sifting through salon floors to find fallen eyelashes
and God, you know how much I need this.
Some days it's the only thing that keeps me going.

Today was cell lunch/Deb'z birthday pseudo-celebration.
...We are so messed up for a sunday school cell group, didcha know? ...but I love it, I really do. It makes us real. Raw. Gritty. Seventeen.
I smile inside every time I step into the room and am greeted by a general "what ARE you wearing?", followed by a "you look like you've been out all night" and I retort "look who's talking" because J's sprawled out on the couch from a hard night's partying with his newsboy cap pulled low over his face, and E looks borderlined stoned and is staring sullenly into space and A and M are doing their usual lovable fuzzy thing. And D and her PP are twining fingers and M looks at me and gives me the bittersweet, i-know-i-know smile "we're in this together".

Manda, for the record...no.
If the fates decide it, I'm fine with living together as two sexy single spinsters,
but I draw. the line. at. hamsters.
Because...spinsters? With hamsters? Seriously?
Why not break out the rocking chairs and knitting needles and marmite lunches while we're at it, too?

...I kid. ;) Worth the wait, 'member, my luv.
1 hour cab waits really bond people.
As much as almost drowning together does.
And I do still really love you, even though back then when we were ten you taught me how to say the word "bastard" and I went around calling everyone it, and had no idea why everyone was staring at me with their mouths agape, and you refused to tell me what the word meant.

Tomorrow is Monday and I am trying very hard to be prepared.
PI: TBU
Top Girls Annotation: Done
Wuthering Heights Analysis: Done
Econs essay question: Almost done
Functions tutorial: Doing now

...See? At this rate I'll be a proper NJ student in no time. :)

Mummy and Daddy come back tomorrow, hurrah.
GIFTS, CLOTHES, HI. :D
'Course- I'm not as singularly materialistic as all that. I miss going into their bedroom at midnight and curling up on their duvet, mum's blue turquoise beads and the scent of jojoba massage oil and the comforting klik-klik-klik of daddy's laptop keys.

[/edit]

...Whoa. Sudden wave of extreme, extreme exhaustion.

Slip into bedclothes, sink into bedsheets scented with spider lily.
A new week beckons...and ohh...look at that, why doncha, Timing's a fickle little thing.
Hullo there, a certain Lt J.Rolleston. :D

Night. (in a bit.)

xxx

Saturday, April 25, 2009

hello, old friend. 10:20 AM

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEBZ- bet you thought I forgot, didn'tcha?
HA FAT CHANCE.
Love you babe I'll be seeing your works in galleries one day.

----

It's 1.20 AM.
What're you doing online, Cara, get offline, Cara, go to sleep.

Went to town with the girlz today.
Amrit the Yacht Girl, Lisa the Go-Green Tree-hugger, Gwen the Beach Babe and Jess the Country Gal.
17 Again is actually pretty good. And no- for the record: I am NOT an Efron fan- but I actually didn't quite mind him in this one. I 'ppose it's not the kid's fault he's always getting typecast in the squeaky clean, basketball chuckin', dancemove bustin' All American Boi roles.
And I laughed like anything at the elvish scenes. Best part of the movie, sez I.

Waited for a cab alone around midnight and have I mentioned I actually hate being out alone late at night? It makes me feel weird inside. Like the darkness throws all the emptiness, every bit of hollowness inside of me into sharp contrast and it niggles at my insides and makes me skim uncertain fingertips over my phone screen searching for someone/anyone to text. call. turn to. are you alive, are you alive?
It's sad but it's true.
Late nights make me vulnerable. And AMs are not my forte.

(...p.s: Lisa-- you are a Godsend.)

today Gwen asked me a random, out-of-the-blue type question:
"how do you know when you're in love?"

and I had to stop and think about that.

"...you're asking me, sweetie?"

I could probably rattle off a whole list of things that I know that love isn't...but what love IS?
The lines start getting blurry just about there.
I challenge you to think about love- real, real, real love- and define it for me. Pin it down for me. Write it on a whiteboard and jab at it with a marker and say love is this, this, this.

Chances are you won't be able to; and chances are if you can, ten years from now you'll look back and say "Damn, I was naive".

But I'm not a complete pessimist.
My take on things is-- why screw yourself around grilling yourself on whether or not you think/know it's love, right?
If the person makes you smile, and if the person makes you feel safe... I say go for it.

...who knows? Maybe one day I'll even take a leaf from my own book.

And on that note-- goodnight. Exhaustion and late night smells of tangerine and almond legitimize incoherency.abruptness.
spkng in abbrvtns? no prblm its bn a lng hrd wk.

So now-- sleep.
Now's not the age to be getting sentimental.

XXX

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

hello, old friend. 2:18 AM

party in the boom boom room;

Today was an improvement.
TGIF --> Thank God I've Friends.

Spent lunch with the Rich Rich Bitches + Leonard + Carol, in their outcry against the screening of Wuthering Heights we had watched and how the Heathcliff they'd cast looked more like a Latin American pervert than the moody, brooding, shrouded-in-intrigue type character he was supposed to be.
And then I don't really know when (it was probably Amrit) but the conversation shifted to the topic of the Romanov family/tzars/tzarinas, and then Carol alarmed us all with the random trivia about Rasputin and his...measure of a man.

Yeah, I know. Arts students. Aiyoh. All de same wan.

(Disclaimer: Discontinue perusal of this entry if you are a) a prude or b) celibate or c) if you're allergic to talking about parts of the human anatomy
And no, we don't talk like this all the time.
Twas all in good fun.)

Cara: ...30cm? 30cm?!?! :O :O But that's, like! ...TWO 15-cm rulers!!!!
Lisa: *looks unimpressed by this display of mathematical prowess* ...Um. Yes, Cara.

Amrit: So you mean after they killed Rasputin, they preserved It and put It in a museum?!
OMG. Where?!
Carol: Russia, I think.
Amrit: OMG.
Moscow, here we come!!

Amrit (...yeah, are you starting to notice a certain trend here..?): Let's go to the computer lab and do a google search for where they exhibited Rasputin's willy!
Lisa: *crosses herself, breathes a soft prayer, clicks rosary beads* ...Amrit!
Amrit: They've probably censored the site anyway, with the security filters. Like they do the rest. "Site Prohibited: Nudity/Pornography/Freedom"
Lisa: Yeah. Like. "Site Prohibited: Nudity/Pornography/Rasputin's willy"
Leonard: ...It was probably too big to go through the filter anyway.
All: ... :O LEONARD.

Then today during CIP, Wei Quan revealed a shocking revelation of just how popular he was back in SJI...
Wei Quan: So last time right, when I was back in SJI; I had three friends--

How Divij and I laughed.

[/edit]

OMG OMG OMG CARAAAAAAAA.

Okay so in a bid to help me remember all the memorable quotes from today, as I usually do, I keyed in the whole Rasputin+30cm willy conversation as talked about earlier into my Blackberry as a text message.
Only, after typing everything out, I didn't save it.
I sent it. By accident.
To "Joe Rolleston- mobile"

...WHY DO THESE THINGS HAPPEN TO ME AND ONLY ME. I SWEAR.

So I desperately scrabbled around with the text message a bit, trying frantically to UN-send it and retract it from where it was presumably drifting about in phone outerspace or something.
...I didn't manage to salvage it.
What I DID manage to do, however, was...send it again- this time to "Joe Rolleston- Home"

And I'm like ":O ...Hoooooly motherflower!"
Because now his mum's going to pick up the home phone and hear (oh, God) the VOICE AUTOMATED RELAYING of the very odd, very risque, HIGHLY QUESTIONABLE conversation about Rasputin's manhood and the places in which it has been exhibited, and the first thing she will think is "...what kind of girl is this Cara, that Joe has been consorting with?!", followed closely by "...Ooh. These Asians. All the same. They go around not wearing clothes and not speaking English and then go back home to their swamp villages after harvesting their noodle crops, and then have sex all day in their treehouses. How appalling. I think I should go put on some tea now."

...I kid. Joe's mum is actually a lovely, lovely lady and despite Joe's claims to her Inherent Evilness, I actually genuinely love her.

But digressing.

So yeah.
OF ALL KINDS OF TEXT MESSAGES TO ACCIDENTALLY SEND OFF TO SOMEONE.
&& OF ALL PEOPLE TO ACCIDENTALLY SEND TEXT MESSAGES LIKE THAT TO.

Somebody kill me now. I will never be able to look a Briton in the eye again.
...Things like this only happen in the movies! Like Anne Hathaway getting orange-ified in Bride Wars. Or Lindsay Lohan getting creamed in Mean Girls. Or Janet Jackson having a wardrobe malfunction on the red carpet.
...See? Only in movies do these things happen. These things do not/should not happen to normal, mundane, everyday people like me.

...Unless, of course- I'm in a movie.

...Omg.

Maybe I am.
Maybe all this has just been a farce. Maybe my house is just a set and the moon is a stagelight and my sister is a hobbit extra who was left onset from the filming of the last Lord of the Rings movie.
Maybe even Joe's not real!!
Maybe he was just an actor they cast to, you know, play my pseudo-shove interest. Kinda like that British actor guy from the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants 2, you know.

...Maybe... this ISSSSS The Sisterhood Of The Travelling Pants 2.
Omg.
Yessssss.
Why did I not see it all along?!
Lisa is actually Alexis Bledel, Amrit is actually that Tibby-girl-actress, and Leonard is actually Blake Lively in disguise and really bad makeup.

Yes.
That's it.
This is the Sisterhood Of The Travelling Pants 2, and Joe is that British dude who...is well read....and an actor...and who Carmen meets. At a summer camp. In a performance course.

This is all starting to sound very familiar.

Oh damn.
...You all know what this means.
This is not real life. This is not Cara's life. This is not Another Sad Wednesday In The Life of An Overworked Singapore Student.
This. is actually the movie The Sisterhood Of The Travelling Pants 2.
Which would neccessarily make me the character Carmen.
...Which would neccessarily...make me America Ferrera.

:O

Ohhh, flower.

NUUUUUUUUUUU--

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

hello, old friend. 6:51 AM

Reading RJ's post has reminded me that I haven't blogged about OM DINNER! yet.
So maybe we didn't get to go to America; but at least we got to go to Seoul Garden. (:

Buffets FTW. We probably ate enough between us to sustain a third world country for the next fifteen or so years.

We gave Andy and Nush red Chinese underwear in a jar topped by one chocolate as a thank you present.
...RJ's idea. Naturally.

She took it out with a flourish, and
Cara: O_O What the hell is THAT?!
RJ: Andy's present!
Cara: Wth?! Sick and wrong, sick and wrong.
That's just, like. Chinese kinky.
RJ: Maybe that's where the word "chink" came from.

Teased Andy about his inability to pwonounce his "r"s.

RJ: Why do you say "poblem" instead of "problem"?
Andy: Cuz I can't pronounce my r's.
RJ: Really?
Cara: Really?!
RJ: Say "correct".
Andy: ...Co..wwect.
RJ: Say "wrong".
Andy: *dutifully obliges* "Wong."
All: *general uproar of laughter*
...
Cara: Okay now say "Ferrero Rocher".
Andy: *death glare*

Omgourd, OM group- you guys're the shizznit.
Parodies of our own rich and esteemed culture ftw.

And we have Ryan Higa to thank for it.

"The word 'PWNED' is derived from the word 'owned', which is derived from the word 'own', which is derived from the word...'cat'."

LMAO. Watch it, pumpkinz- that's one minute forty seconds of your life you won't mind not getting back.

Everybody was kungfu fighting
Those kids were fast as lightnin'!

Sunday, April 19, 2009

hello, old friend. 7:14 AM

(warning: incoherency ahead)

"i don't know how i feel any more"

Not sad, just hollow.

My day has passed in a blur of unwise 5kms and bottoms of plates and me wishing i could have it in handwriting too..., and econs and pi and more econs and "you haven't taken your pills why haven't you taken your pills" and
ASOIUAS)(*W)E(Q>A:LDKALJADSr0w38.

Lisa, your latest post puts a lump in my throat and I don't know why.

maybe I should let Friday spell backlit catastrophe.
...but even mayhem takes so much effort to plan. and I'm tired. so tired.
all I want to do is pull the covers over my head and sleep away the cymbalic words like whitehot calf brands on skin the tentative whisperings to dark air that made me realize that no, i don't and i am so sorry..., the ocean behind my eyes the smoke signals that turn to confused laughter when friends come round
the fraying rope
the gravity.

give me a few days and I should snap out of this--
yes; I am aware of the fact that I am unattractively sliding around in indulgent self-pity. I landed myself in there, thanks.

Cass calls it my "Sylvia Plath complex".
I call it
stupid.

~~please, somebody.~~

screw this, Cara- fight back.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

hello, old friend. 6:09 PM

To all my disbelievers - I'll teach you to believe
We get addicted to our medicine, we create our own disease
----

2AM emptiness sounds deceptively like profundity.

one hand in the proverbial chocolate box, you
eat overused cliches like air, and
later on- drape sickly sweetly over old porcelain
because they were someone else's words
and the copyright churned them in your stomach.

"truth is-"
i've always let my imagination lead my heart.

heart.
what an ugly word.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

hello, old friend. 7:59 AM

I guess it's about time I updated, huh.

Life has been...passable, really. I don't have much to complain about.
'Cept maybe the usual, you know-- why the hell're apps taking so long to return; 7000 miles can be a pain in the arse; omg HISTORY COURSEWORK. Etcetra.
Oh and how come the rest of the world (read: non-Asian countries) gets to have two weeks of Easter holidays while we're doing here compulsively revising sequences and series?!

Amrit was flipping through her organizer (UK-printed, so it's got all the UK holidays on) and reeling out a whole list of the holidays they've got.
It's INSANE.
They've got Whit Sunday, Trinity Sunday, the Queen's birthday, the Queen's OFFICIAL birthday, Summer Solstice....
...*365 days later* ...AAAAND they even have this Battle of the Boyne Holiday, which is presumably a holiday to commemorate the happening of some battle.

Amrit: "That is so unfair. Why do they get to have a Battle of the Boyne Day? Why don't we have a Hock Lee Bus Riot Day, or something?"

...On a sidenote- Lisa was smiling a lot today. = understatement.
"Lisa, you okay?"
"yeah, why?"
"you're smiling."
"that's okay, innit?"
"yeah, but you're smiling into your cup of cheng teng at your barley beans."

Oh, and.
It's frankly ridiculous how much a random FB note can make me smile!
Format went like this:
Dear Cara, I ____ you. You have a nice ______. You make me _______. You should _______. Someday I will ______. You + me = ________. If I saw you now I'd __________. I want to ________ you. I would build a _______ just for you. If I could sing you any song it would be _________. We could __________ under the stars. Love, _______________

Every single comment I got made me laugh/smile/go "aww..."
And obvi I'm not gonna put down all of them, but here're a few bits and bobs.

(Lisa)
Dear Cara,
You should stop choking your face with powder.
I would build a bridge to Tamworth just for you.
We could have illegal sleepovers under the stars.

(Kieran)
Dear Cara,
You should de-elf-ify yourself.

(Toni)
Dear Cara,
You should let go.
You + me = soul sisters.

(Tyler)
Dear Cara,
You make me want to compose an indie pop symphony.
You + Me = Best Potential JM's for P&M!!
If I could sing you any song it would be something that rivals your vocal talents. =P

(Manda)
Dear Cara,
You should stop wearing heels.
Someday I will be the president.

(Wenloong)
Dear Cara,
Someday I will hear the end'uv your list'uv casual flings.
You + me = Kindred Spirits.
If I could sing you any song it would be "It's Raining Men" by The Weathergirls.

(Jag)
Dear Cara,
You have a nice hair.
[Cara: ...A nice hair? A nice hair?! As in, singular? Thaaaanks, Jag. Means a lot, really does. :P]

(Qiu)
Dear Cara,
I miss hiding under staircases believing in fairytales and flying with you.
You make me wanne cry with your super cool six sense that tells you when to text me.

(Joe)
Dear Cara, I know you know I <3 you.
Someday (One Day) I will show you Tamworth.
I would build an empire just for you.

(Ross)
Dear Cara,
You should move to Tamworth!
Someday I will make you move to Tamworth :P.
I would build a very very very large bridge between tamworth and singapore just for you.

---

...Good memories. *nostalgic sigh goes here*

Oh, and I found this picture randomly and it made me laff.

...HAHA. Fisikz.

I digress.

I liked today. GP, free period, free period, Lit, lunch, Lit, PW.
Tuesday --> ...the new Friday?
Maybe.

Oh and I've actually started listening to Christian music again. :D
Are you proud, God?
For the longest time, I had the oddest aversion to it...but the other day I was inspired to play worship songs and Inside Out came on and I love the line
everlasting; Your light will shine when all else fades.
...And I'm reading The Case For Christ now too; which is a little too journalist-ic and statistical for my liking, but it's interesting; and another book that Mum got me, called I-forget-what.
My inspiration for doing all this is highly ironic. It amuses me no end!!

I mean- I KNOW God exists. I know He's real. I know He's there.
S'just-- I am constantly grappling with my Christianity, and oftentimes it's the easiest thing to just drop my hands and go "...y'know what, God; it's easier without you. I'm only seventeen, there's still time, let me have my fun and I'll catch up with ya later, k? Seeyaaaa."
I know that's not the way it's supposed to work.
And it's a long way uphill, but...I guess I needed this brief respite from all the not-caring. Thanks, God. I don't deserve You. But thanks anyway.

Okay, now.
History beckons.

This has been a long post.
I reckon I've fulfilled my quota for the next twenty years or so, so.

Seeya when I'm forty-seven, folks.

XXX

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

hello, old friend. 8:32 AM

hello, old friend. 8:16 AM

OM
stands for
Oh, Momma!

OMg. The gourds MUST be crazy.
Hang in there, OM group.
The hours are finally taking their toll on Justin, too.

(during Math lecture)
Mr Teo: (stares at Justin, who is sitting in front of the podium with the NJ crest on)
...Justin. Why are you smiling at the NJC lion?

...And the rest of us aren't far behind!

RJ: So how're we gonna do this whole China-setting thing?
Cara: ...I KNOW! Let's make it all exotic like! Like, totally play up the whole China thing. We can have, like, samurais and stuff!
RJ: ... Samurais are Japanese.
Cara: ...Oh.
*perks up again* Well-- we can have ninjas!!
RJ: *stoic silence*
Cara: ...Oh. Ninjas're Japanese too, aren't they.

Carol: Cara, I can't wear the things you do.
Lisa: Yeah. That's cuz she's Cara.
Carol: *agrees* I just wouldn't be able to pull it off.
Lisa: Yeah. I mean- if I wore what Cara wears; I'd just wind up looking like a slut.
Cara: :O ...I'm not quite sure whether to be complimented, or gravely gravely insulted!

I NEED SLEEP
I NEED SLEEP
I NEED SLEEP
I NEED SLEEP

Saturday, April 4, 2009

hello, old friend. 9:47 AM

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

hello, old friend. 9:12 PM

(Disclaimer:
Take all of the following with a pinch of salt.
Nothing was written with the intention to offend.
It's Thursday, so I'm allowed to be a little incoherent/politically incorrect. )

Excerpt from a diary entry two days ago:
"...It's only Tuesday and already everybody is burning out."

I think Life is killing me.
Oh, the irony stings.

"...You're still in school? But it's 1.30pm!!"
Oh, Tyler Tyler Tyler, American boi. <3>

I cling onto the purple rugby shirt like it's a life support.
Like it's proof that somewhere out there; lies Another World. A good world. Where people actually get the recommended 8 hour quota of sleep. Where Cold War essay outlines write themselves. Where Math lectures are actually followable. Where there is Enunciation.

"Ah skew me, skew me!" (Singlish-to-English translation: "excuse me, excuse me")
...yeah we'd be happy to. *proceeds to impale user of offending pronounciation with a kebab stick*

And. Girlie girlie girlie...
Just what did you mean by "oh, you Arts students are so lucky. You guys're taking non-work combinations", pray tell?
Non-work? ...NON-WORK?!
HELLOOOO have you not seen the sheer immensity of my bag I tried to pick it up from the floor and almost fell over and that's not because of my makeup case.

Amrit: (referring to NS) Joshua, run! Run while you can!
Joshua: ...I can't. They track you down once you're 16.
Amrit: (turns to Cara) Y'know- I bet they've got a names database where they record down names and everything we do.
Cara: "...ran away."
Amrit: "...about to run away."
Cara: "...taking Arts combination."
Amrit: "with a STAH STAH STAH: potenshul trouble-makeh"

*sings, NDP style*
This is Hommmme, truly
Everyday must study
Die if take arts combi
Means GPA too low

...*plaintive sigh*
Oh, stigmas.
Oh, ye who have never floundered in the mass of writhing scribbles that is History Cold War notes!!

And while we're on the note of stereotypes/stigma/all that jazz;
...Joe and my attempt-at-cheena/because all white people think all Singaporeans are from China/Cantonese and Hokkien are subsets of the religion Buddhism/we-carn't-spel! conversation.
"Run baby, run" is me, duh. Just for reference.

The Anti-Hero says:
if you DO find anyone that fits the bill
Run baby, run. says:
I think I might know someone. Close friend of mine. She's a little odd, though-- may not be your type.
The Anti-Hero says:
...oh? elaborate?
Run baby, run. says:
I mean- she's into the whole LotR/fantasy genre/fawn of the forest thing. Obviously SO not your style, since, like, y'know, you're too, like, hawt for that, like, kinda stuff, like, yeah, like.
The Anti-Hero says:
yeaah i'm a jock, y'know.
i think fantasy is for geeks
Run baby, run. says:
Exaaaaactly.
O.m.g. You and I, like, hav soooooooo much in cmmn <3>
The Anti-Hero says:
and i only date white, blonde girls with like, large breasts and little capactiy for actually thinking
any1 tht dus wel at skwl is blatantly a fukin nerd
i like to drink, smoke, take drugs and have unprotected sex in bushes on a friday nyt
but i are good at sports and have big muscles, so everything is ok
Run baby, run. says:
omg i tink w3'r3, lyk, solm8s.
The Anti-Hero says:
oh aaand, all asian ppl are chinese
Run baby, run. says:
ew.
The Anti-Hero says:
yeah...
Run baby, run. says:
dunt they all, like, go ard nekid or sumfin?
and, like, live in treehouses?
The Anti-Hero says:
and eat fried rice and noodles
lololololololol
Run baby, run. says:
hahaha yh yh yh <3>
i so ttly <3>
The Anti-Hero says:
so...where are you from?
cuz u r weel fit babeeez
Run baby, run. says:
hahahaha well hotstuff u ent so bad eithr xxxx
im from malaysia
whch is lyk near singapore
which is lyk in china
The Anti-Hero says:
ew that's dirrty
how can you speak english den?
Run baby, run. says:
y? u dnt think my english is v gd?
): ): ): ): ): ):
The Anti-Hero says:
i dont wanna talk 2 u nomore
you r chinese
kthxbai
Run baby, run. says:
fyne i gtg neway
to do mi hair
and then i gtg church becos mi religion is hokkien
The Anti-Hero says:
[/end bizarro world]