Big Bad Buffet of Results.

Today, ok to be precise yesterday since it's 2am now, the badminton girls and I went for a dim sum buffet at Harbourfront. And might I say it's a waste of every cent?

To be fair, it wasn't that bad. It was bad but probably those whose tastes aren't as finicky as mine would find it alright.
There was an amusing instance, (out of many that occurs whenever the badminton girls(ok half of the badminton girls) are together) when Shi Ying the Blackie said "We finished the buffet in half and hour!"

What's so funny about that?
Well consider this, we are Singaporeans and we eating if pretty much our reason for living, and finishing a buffet in 30 min is a sacrilege. It's a number 1 or something sin in the Holy Book of EAT YOUR MONEY'S WORTH AND MORE.

But I couldn't take it anymore, my taste buds, guts and stomach were pleading "HEIDI NO, no more!"

After that the girls hung out at my hostel, after my constant hyponotising chants to "Come to my hostel...come to my hostel...come. To. My. Hostel."
What am I so excited about anyway right? Maybe it's because of the hope that their presence were permeate throughout my room and remain there as memories I could pluck from any corner to savour like a cute chipmunk hoarding its nuts. Acorns.

And no, no watching Alvin and the Chipmunks please. It might be better than I think it is but I feel quite unable to bring myself through this ordeal. Yet.

Alright, the other big event is I found out my results. I logged on tentatively onto the website to see how I could access my results and it's BAM right in front of my face without even the benefit of coasting the impact a little by diverting me to some advert or stupid page with links I could click click click on before getting to my results thereby giving me a few pages worth of time to fortify myself against my stupidity in slacking. I know I might not make sense and perhaps ramble a little but its too be expected because I'm still a little flabbergasted over my results.
But whaddya know...I'm just gonna suck it all up(suck what up I don't know...eggs? It's just an expression) bounce back and work hard.

BAHAHAHAH. Work hard my foot.
Ok *slap slap Heidi* You can do it. Yeah. Next sem will be better...Right? RIGHT??
Please tell me it'll be better or I'll just go marry the next tall dark and handsome rich guy that I see even though I've never yet seen one.

Guys like that are rarer than myths or a light producing blackhole. Or maybe I'm just in the wrong place, wrong time, I should be in a posh club! Caroling! Like what I was doing all last week, 'cept I got diarrhea so maybe not that either.

Argh I shall stop rambling and get on with my movie. Knocked up. I'm just typing here to while away time while it loads anyway.

Ok toodles folkies and Heidi is off to sink into her rut of IDON'TCAREABOUTMYRESULTSDAMNIT.

Chirstmas Spirit Gets Drained into Non-Existence.

A few posts ago I said that I think I can act. Right now I'm going to eat my words with big chomping chomps.

I cannot act.

I cannot find it within me to be hauntingly eerie, mischievously happy and hauntingly eerie, then whining and childish and then cheerfully skip off to school while singing a hauntingly eerie song within the space of 3 lines.

When I was asked to 'teh' (means to be sassy) the guy I'm acting with, the directors/managers/producers taking charge of the rehearsals had skeptical expressions on their faces because it felt more like a girlfriend pouting up to her boyfriend then a kid whining to an adult.

I'm supposed to be a kid yes. And Yes I felt like a dirty mistress while trying to 'teh' the guy.
So my scene was changed to stomping my foot on the ground and whining loudly "I want toys, I want toys, I want toysssssss."

Again I had to squeeze this whining behaviour out from me with two hands only to gain a few drops of it. AIYOOO SO HAAARDDDDDDD (swings to and fro and stomps foot)
so right now I'm trying to practice being a creepy, hyperactive kid.

So those who know me well will say, BUT YOU ARE A CREEPY HYPERACTIVE KID-LIKE GIRL!
And I will say Shut up. Just shut up. You had me at hello. Oops sorry, wrong movie line.

Further updates on Heidi's life...trainings, choir practices and rehearsals are sucking up the not-much-life-left in me like a giant hibiscus plant sucking up sunlight.

I feel so zombified everyday that I actually fell out of bed onto my knees when trying to answer knock on my door. Ok, maybe there isn't any link but my point is
OH MY FISHING DARN IT TO HECK I AM SUCH A BUSY PERSON.

Strangely, I don't feel like I'm busy as a bee, just tired. Drained and...I need a romance novel. I don't care if they call it soft-pourhn or whatever, I need a happily-ever-after because Enchanted can't keep me satisfied much longer!
Pun intended.
What I mean is satisfied with optimism, the "Oh life is sooo beeooouuutiful" feeling and that roses are red and the aloe vera plant is green.

And I might not even be abled to go home for Christmas because I have caroling to do!

Sigh. Christmas is coming and Heidi's getting...fat?
I'll be performing at Borders on Sunday! FRIENDS IF YOU WANT TO CATCH A GLIMPSE OF ME, DO COME DOWN. It's around 4.30pm.

*Slumps onto the keyboard from sheer exhaustion*

To M on her Birthday. (ok pun on the to J on his Birthday, couldn't resist it)

Ok so it's 17 Dec and your birthday is 16th Dec but I didn't have access to the internet until quite late and I did sms you but here it is: You're 19!!

It's your last year of teenage hood and I can't tell you how to live through it happily or treasure it or something, since I'm still trying to work out how to capture this age forever and not step into the looming 20s.

I didn't buy you any presents because we won't be meeting anyway and we're not in The Cheapo Gang for nothing.

To be truthful, I don't know what can suffice for about 8 years of friendship in which I've seen you cry so many times and you've seen me cry only like once because my Lucky the turtle died. What to give to someone who is like another arm...um...not another arm, quite freaky to have 3 arms.

I don't know what to give to express how thankful that I have a friendship that can probably survive 6 months of no contact at all.
You and Cass gave me Tick and Tack and um...And the unbelievable time when I forwarded you an sms from someone and you actually thought it was meant for you. You know which sms lah!
Ok you should know I'm bad at being mush-mush.

So anyway, my point is, there are shooting stars tonight. And though I can't catch falling stars to put them in my pocket, I'll wish upon them for you.

Happy birthday Marya! *wink wink*

The Important Things In Life when Your Life is as Packed as an AntBee hybrid.

Here's a summary of my schedule,
soccer, touch rugby, squash, badminton, nus archery, hall production and hall choir.
There will be trainings everyday. Frequent singing, and in future daily acting/dancing/singing rehearsals.

In between there will be meals and toilet breaks and traveling on buses.
Sleep can be negotiated, on a good day 5 hours can be set aside for it.

Leisure time is a myth.
Rain is plentiful. Mud will be in fashion.

The terrapin Tacky, will be under-fed because his/her/its owner is forgetful, sadistic and too tired to feed it well.

So I conclude that the one who suffers the most here will be Tacky Ng Ta Ke Le.

On a good note, maybe I'll come out of this a better, stronger and...Fig that, that's not important. Most importantly, I'll come out of this as svelte as Heidi Klum so I can finally fit into size 0 and run without my thighs rubbing together to set my pantyhose on fire.

Hualalalal~ Merry Christmas and a Happy New Slim Heidi Year!

And it's that Time of the Month Again...

There is a temporary change of template because my blog takes too long to load.
And for these few days I have a feeling I would need to post because...It's That TIme Of The Month Again!
What time? You ask. Well...you know, that time.
What time?? You ask again.
THAT TIME LAH. PERIOD PERIOD. PMS.
Where I get all moody or emotional depending on what the weather is like or how Tacky is feeling or whether nice shows are showing on TV or in short any random occurrence that will trigger an avalanche of unstoppable emotions in me that would threaten to burst out by me running headfirst into the nearest sink of water or writing furiously depending on which one is more convenient.

So...
Stay tune for updates on my ovulation cycle! As I've said before, this blog seems to be an indicator of my body clock.
Exams are done. I have some things to write, but I'm too tired, lack of sleep and who knows what else so toodles peepies!
Until next time! Which will probably be when I have mood-swings like a deranged yo-yo.


and so i,
rain-soaked,
laugh and
splash along
in the puddles.

we cannot win against
this world

but what easy loss
because there is love.

Kitaro The Sexy Beast.

Am I really warped if I think Kitaro is kind of sexy?
Ok before you start going Whaaaaattt?? (if you haven't already) let me explain.
I saw this advertisement for his concert on TV and in it he was beating the drums very passionately and totally immersed in the music.
You could tell he was a perfectionist and really intense. The really artistic temperamental artist.

Ok screw that temperamental part. I mean not screw in that way lah.
I now understand why some women are drawn to the eccentric artists who would suddenly go fiery and high and start splashing paint on canvases and be totally oblivious to the world around them.
Not that I want them so weird.

But there's really something rather attractive about an intense, passionate and artistic man. I think it's the fact that possibility of all that intensity focused on you that can be quite...tantalising. Shivers~
*fans herself*

And Kitaro's music's really good. Tears come involuntarily to my eyes when I hear them. That's how I know it's good.

Papers that make me want to slam my head down into the nearest hardest object.

I just finished South Asian paper today and it was worse than my political science paper. Because I mistakenly thought that planning an essay would make me more efficient. BAHAHA. Works for other people maybe but I think I'll stick to the stream-of-consciousness style.
At the end of the paper I resorted to writing point form in extremely ugly handwriting. Uglier than usual handwriting for me which translates to a writing that's worse than what they write on the chinese yellow charms they paste on zombies.

All I wanted to do after the exam was cover my face with my hands and go "oh God oh God oh God..." while rocking back and forth on my chair like a rocking koala.

So yes, 2 horrible papers down, 3 horrible more ones to go. Perhaps Lit might be the only paper I actually feel satisfied with.
I don't know. Lets not talk about the future because I have the feeling that my semester 1 in NUS will equate to spending one year of my life in a deserted island with no hot guys or monkeys to play with : wasted.

"Heidi feels like writhing on her bed and foaming at her mouth."

Of Exams and Oil.

Alright peepies, I've just finished my first paper in NUS. Does that make me an NUS student now? Is it a kind of red-tape ceremony that ushers me into the golden age of My Life In Uni?
It's a repeat of my Os, As and every exam in between. Study last minute, no time to finish, come out of exam hall feeling slightly depressed but knowing I deserve it and then hoping that everyone else will like, fail.

People ask me how my paper went and I didn't have much to say. It was bad but it wasn't that bad.
It wasn't eventful, although there was this very nervous girl who sat at the wrong place and then apologised to everyone on the way towards her rightful seat. "Sorry, I am very nervous." Some nice people said "It's ok..." while Heidi said nothing. The girl stared at the numbers on the top right of every desk, expecting to find her number when some people were already seated at the desk. Like me.

She sat in front of me and then the girl beside her called out, "HI!" and they both giggled nervously. How could I tell it was a nervous giggle? Because I could see the layers of fa...flesh on the other girl trembling as if she was crying or laughing or spasmodic.

That's about it. Oh and the fact that when the paper ended, the invigilators took 20 min to collect our papers before letting us go. I was freezing in the hall and getting all impatient and hungry and they took so long. I wondered why, why can't they let us go. Is it because they had to pack all the papers safely so that when they let us go, none of us would feel tempted to pounce on them to get back our papers and change what we've written?
Ok so I was tempted to leap onto the papers like a lioness on the plains of the African desert, find mine, and either sink my teeth into the papers and swing my head about to tear them into pieces or frantically write what I didn't have time to finish writing. But that doesn't mean I will actually do it!

So...
1 down and 4 to go. I shall start studying harder.
HAR HAR HAR HAR HA RHAR. Like I will.

I shall go meditate now, in hopes that the hardworking-ness of my neighbours in hall will ooze past their doors, across the threshold of mine, lock on to me and sink into my thick thick skin through osmosis.
Then I am going to hug Buddha's leg, do the sign of a cross say "Amen" and then prostrate myself with a hand up to heavens, beseeching Allah to bless me. Bless me Allah! Bless! Bless!
Holy water!

"Heidi and exams are like oil and water, one's fatty and the other drowns."

Parts of ourselves.

I am in a poetical mood tonight. I feel like typing lots of words, words that would express my thoughts and feelings, my hopes and dreams, my ups and my even more ups.
And so here it goes...

MY EXAMS ARE COMING OMG OMG OMG OMG OMGOMG OMGOMGOMG.




And I'm having my period. Like I've said before, this blog seems to be an indicator of my ovulation cycle. Many girls I know get moody, irritable and bad-tempered when they are having PMS. What about me? Just last week I was feeling enough angst to put the angstiest, pimpliest teenager to shame, and all through this week I'm sleeping so much I feel like a log with mushrooms sprouting all over and am so angsty I'm all "Oh woe is me, let me drown myself in misery and just drown my face in a sink!"

There was this episode in Grey's Anatomy when Meredith was accidently pushed into the sea by her patient and a part of her gave up struggling to save herself because she thought what was the point. So she died. For most of the episode. Until she overcame the emotional problems that she had. Then she was revived.

In the depths of my PMSing, I told Shi Ying a part of me would not have fought too. Worriedly she said "No you must fight! You have to fight! You MUST!"

"But isn't there some part in everyone who would have just given up?"

Shi Ying went quiet for a while. "No..."

So we sat there in Thai Express arguing about parts of ourselves. She commented that I gave off this anguished feeling sometimes, ever since I came to NUS, maybe because I was so tired all the time.
I said I was always like that, she said no, I said yes. She said she didn't know and perhaps that's because she didn't talk to me as much as she does now. I said maybe.
And we went quiet.

Then we snapped out of it.

*SLAP SLAP* HEIDI! FINISH YOUR PERIOD SO YOU CAN STOP FEELING THE BLUES SO ACUTELY.

I got A for my Lit essay! That's a CAP of 5.0! And an A- for my Political Science essay! And a B+ for my Sociology test! And probably an F for my Jap. Gah.

If I didn't take Jap...ok if I STUDIED for Jap, my cap might have been above 4! Wooopah!
So yah Heidi, please study hard for Jap so you at least PASS your Jap and not get a CAP of 2+.

So my point is, my week has its ups and downs.
It's probably going to get upper once my period is done.
I'm going on a chocolate binge because chocolates make me feel better.
But eating too much makes me fat then I'll get more depressed and eat more chocolate and get fatter than more depressed and...it's a vicious cycle.

I need to go hug Tacky.

Born under Lucky Stars.

Hullo peepies! This is Heidi shouting from the bottom of the deep crap she has dug herself into! What deep crap? You ask. Aren't you always in some kind of crap or another? You add.

Well yes! I am always in some kind of crap or another, I think it's the stars I'm born under. I was probably born when the star of Crapinus cross with the star of Lazinus when the star of Idiotinus was in an orbit about the star ShesStillTypingHereEvenThoughSheHasTwoEssaysToHandUpByTomorrowInNus.

I think my stars pretty much explained what kind of deep crap I'm in.
Fortunately, I have emailed my kind tutors to give me an extension. One said she'll try, another one pretty much gave me extension BUT looks forward to a well-written essay since I have prepared more time on it than other students. Oh and other students handed up on time.

Basically, I'm as screwed as a kebab meat is to a metal pole and grilling away.

On to lighter news.

I'm in my hall's production as an ensemble member and I don't know whether I have mentioned it to you peepies before but I have stage fright. I have this deer-in-the-not-just-any-headlights-but-those-gigantic-stadium-lights feeling in me whenever I have to act in front of people. Which is ironic considering that I do that all the time but that is a different kind of acting entirely so where was I.

Oh yah, we had to learn to project our voices from our diaphragm and do some "Hah!" sounds so that our stomach will push out as we "Hah!" I was the worse of the bunch since they kept asking me to practise. Ok I'm just traumatisingly embarrassed. Why only me and not the other people? Or maybe they are embarrassed too, they just handle it better than I do.

Maybe once I get more familiar with all of them than I can you know, do better.
But then on the day of the performance would I just freeze up? Maybe.

I know I can act, probably even have a talent for it. It's not a kind of arrogant delusion, it's just a gut feeling I have. I am just too self-conscious. WHY AH WHY AH WHY AH!!!!!

Ok lah, I shall try to handle my problems as they come, and they come like avalanches , now on to read about Sociology so I can do one essay.

Stress.
*fans myself*
Phew.

"I'm Heidi the lazy ass, I'm Heidi the lazy ass! I'm Heidi and I need some chocolates!" (ok so it doesn't exactly fit in the Popeye the Sailor Man tune. Whatever)

Pink and Blue

Pink and blue has started! No it's not some pink is for breast cancer and blue for some other awareness thingy. It's an event in my block (as in my block in the hall I'm staying in). I know it sounds quite pastel, gentle, sanitary pad-like but it's more than that!

In this event, the males and females are pitted against each other as they try to outdo one another over a variety of pranks.
On the very first morning after the event commenced, the boys locked the cubicles of all the girls toilet, which led to girls leaving the block to venture to other toilets in a mass exodus never seen after Moses led his people through the Red Sea.

I'm fine with toilet pranks, since I don't really use the toilet on my floor and instead the toilet out of my block. It's cleaner, more private and smells nicer! So you can imagine my dismay when my haven of a toilet gets temporarily invaded by other girls.

Today was a rather fruitful day as some girls and I went on a recce around the guys' floor to see what pranks we could play. Actually I was the one who said "Lets go recce!!!" like some excited kid who anticipates sticking her finger into an electrical plug for the first time. So yes I'm lame.
I found the room of one of the guys unlock and he wasn't around!
We moved big potted plants into his room, slather insect repellent cream into his tissue paper, toothpaste in his utensils and dumped packets of sugar into his water bottle. Finally we 'da bao' (packed up) his bedsheets and pillow and bolster to display for all the world to see later on.
Woohoo mission accomplished.

It's one whole week or two or compulsively locking your doors and room windows so people can't come in to do damage to your room. It's stressful, exciting and scary and pissifying when you get pranked. I haven't gotten pranked personally yet but my name is on a list displayed outside some guy's door.
Very well.

JUST LEAVE TACKY ALONE.
I must find safe places to hide my cute little terrapin now.

Alrighty peepies, I've only had 1 hour plus of sleep today in an effort to finish an essay which I started really really last minute. Also another 2 essays to hand up by the end of the week so I'm a little sleep-deprived and not functioning properly now thus my quite boring post today.

Yah so um. Post when I'm more sober.

To J on his birthday.

Ok so I post as frequently as cheese talking these days. Can you blame me? I'm either holed up in my hostel room, or holed up in a lecture theatre or holed up in my home room sleeping the days away.

The only interesting things that will happen to me is if Tacky suddenly starts barking.
Actually I don't know what to post about too!

Ok I have one. It's about this person call J. J is 30+ and...I don't usually post not-so-good things about people, much less identify them but in this case I'll make an exception.

J is a colleague from my days at a company I worked for in 2006 Nov-Dec. Which is like light-years ago. He's a lonely, delusional guy who can't write poems to save his nuts, but does so anyway. He is clinically depressed, has bi-polar disorder and is delusional. Oh did I mention he is delusional?

He thinks he and I are friends and that I'm a good person to talk to about his bloody troubles which involves him seeing a girl on the bus he likes and he thinks she likes him too because apparently their gazes met and he can't get his mind off her because he didn't approach her and he thinks there's something between them and- I cut him off halfway saying WHY IS HE TELLING ME THIS.

I don't know WHERE THE HECK he gets that idea from because every time he calls or smses me I either ignore him or am very curt. I even told him on the phone I hated talking on the phone or smsing and don't really like talking to him. (it's just him)
But either he has forgotten or he has an excess of hair growing in his ears that prevent him from hearing me properly or worse misunderstood the things I say as "Call me anytime and talk to me."


I wish you can read my blog J, I probably shouldn't post about you like that but I still wish you could read and know what I really feel for you.
Which is irritation, frustration, pity and guilt.

I feel like I'm being harassed by you. By your smses, by your calls. They would stop for a while after I express my displeasure and then they would start again.
Days before you had msged me to ask how I was doing and I didn't reply. Just yesterday you called me while I was in the shower and I couldn't pick up. I saw your missed call but I didn't call back. I had the feeling you would call again and I was right!

I was out having dinner with my family and you called again, I hung up and minutes later you msged me saying it'll be your birthday tomorrow (which is today) and whether I could spend this special with you. (notice he missed out 'day', or 'event' or maybe his grammar was bad enough he thinks special is a noun)
When I received his msg I went "ARGH" because now he's making me feel guilty and that I have no choice but to reply.

I didn't reply, but thought maybe I'll send a msg later on saying 'Happy birthday' and perhaps add 'Sorry, but I'll be in school tomorrow.'
Monday is my free day, but I figured I wouldn't be lying by saying I'll be in school, since I do live in school now.

So I forgot about his msg and later on at about 12.30 am when I was trying to sleep and succeeding, he msged 'HAPPY BIRDDAY TO ME' and I was like damn it damn it damn it. I had a hard time going to sleep after that. (yes it's really birdday not my typo, not funny if he meant it to be)
After this inane msg, I lost the will to send him any wishes at all because I really do not want to keep up with this pointless 'J I really really don't want to continue any form of acquaintance with you.'

But I'm afraid you'll sink into depression or worse do something to hurt yourself and bemoan this world and the loneliness it holds for you. Because it is your birthday after all and I know how birthdays can make one melancholic but You. Are. Over. The. Top.

So now I'm torn and frustrated and irritated wondering if I should send you a curt 'Happy birthday, sorry I won't be able to spend it with you because I'll be in school.'

or just ignoring you and leave you to your misery instead of sending a msg that you would think as encouragement.
But J, I don't want you to hurt yourself. Neither do I want to force myself to entertain you anymore.

What if the next day I see a news report that says "Man, 33, drowned himself in the Singapore River" and it will be indirectly my fault. Directly. My fault.
I AM ONLY 19, YOU'RE ALMOST 20 YEARS OLDER THAN ME and I feel like you're a young boy and that I have a responsibility for you. My gawd. I have enough of that in my life.

We weren't even colleagues for that long.
It's your birthday today.
Stop hurting yourself.

I still can't bear to write out your name for fear you'll read this and feel damaged. Yet I think it should be fairly obvious whom I'm referring to if you managed to read this.

Happy birthday.

Heidi's lack of sense.

Hello World, hello ants, hello Tacky hiding somewhere around my room.
This is Heidi speaking from the deep sh*t that she's dug herself into. Do you hear the echo~o~o~es from beneath the pit?

Ok I'm doing very badly for my mid-terms. Even though I've only gotten one test back, I can already predict the results of the rest of my tests are gonna be as traumatising as my Jap test. I don't need any psychic ability, I just need common sense.

Which I think I lack.

DARN IT HEIDI. I've got to buck up! How many years has it been already and I always always ALWAYS commit the same mistakes over and over again.

Yes so now I know how it feels to experience Seneca's saying "Those who forget the past, are doomed to relive again."

So yes, you are currently reading a entry typed by a stupidifyingly stupid idiot Uni student who thinks she can just coast along uni life without putting in any effort. HAR HAR HAR. BAH BAH BAH. Heidi's goats are laughing at her sorry ass.

If you catch me in school, outside school, in the bathroom or in the bedroom. Don't forget to slap me on both sides of my cheeks. Hard. And I mean my facial cheeks not anywhere else. After that grap me by my collar, shake me like you shake an ant off your drinking straw, and then scream at me "HEIDI STUDY!!!!"

"You only live once but if you work it right, once is enough."

Stomach upsets and cycles.

So the Irritable Bowel Syndrome I thought I was suffering from turns out to be Gastric Flu. AKA Stomach Flu. AKA Gastroenteritis. AKA 1 week of I BLOODY HATE THIS.

I do not know where I got it from, so I might just get it again while eating my chocolates or brushing my teeth or sniffing down the wrong corridor. I spread it to my mom who at first didn't believe I got stomach flu when I first suspected I'm suffering from it. She had to go for injection the very next day after I met her. Which traumatised me enough that I refused to go to the Doctor OVER MY DEAD BODY.

I feel like a Zombie going around infecting people, sleeping my days away or puking my guts out. I also go around like a voracious pig on a binge-eating tidbits ice cream macdonald's unhealthy food spree. Then I suffer the effects of it the next day...or just 10 minutes later. Toilet, here I come again! I've such regular acquaintaince with the toilet these past few days we might as well be Best Friends Forever. BFF Toilet.
How long does this thing lasts ah???

Ok Heidi is feeling better after all the down time last week, which I think got to do with the fact she felt like her stomach was eating her alive and making weird gurgling noises. Her tests are coming and she hasn't yet started on her studying.
She wonders if this is a cycle that's going to repeat itself throughout her life.

Then she realises Life is made up of cycles, vicious, bloodthirsty, mind-boggling cycles. Going round and round, never-ending circles and the more she types about circls the giddier she feels.
Suddenly! She slaps herself out of it and says IT'S THE DEAN'S LIST OR NOTHING AT ALL! IT'S FIRST-CLASS HONOURS OR LIVING IN THE SLUMS. IT'S MARRYING A FREAKIN' HOT AND RICH GUY OR GOING GAY. Ok maybe not go gay. BE A MISTRESS TO AN OLD AND FREAKIN' RICH GUY.

Ok Heidi is going to stop now. She feels very sleepy, and although she's sick and tired of being sick and tired...it's time to sleep. (or actually more like read all the trashy romance novels that she had downloaded onto her comp)

Toodle Doos Folkies!

"They say it is better to be poor and happy than rich and miserable, but how about a compromise like moderately rich and just moody?"

Mid terms and a Gloomy Mood.

So it's time again for the ever infrequent blog updates by the Hardworking Heidi!

Today's topic is about Mid Terms Tests! My oh my what an interesting and exciting subject!
So like Heidi totally screwed her lit test today despite the fact that this might the very first time in her life she finished a lit novel and half of another one.
She'll be having a Japanese test tomorrow, or in another 12 hours to be exact and she has weeks worth of lectures to catch up in just hours.

Does anyone feel like they are reading re-runs of Heidi's school life from the time she was a Sec Sch kid, a Jc Kid and now a Uni idiot? It all seems quite amazing you know, that this blog has progressed...or just got older without getting wiser, with me from the time I was 13-14 till I'm almost an adult now.

Today as I walked back to my Hall (I'm starting to call it home now), I thought about how detached I feel from the life of a university student. It hasn't quite caught on to me yet, and already 56 days have passed since I moved into the hall and set out on the brave new world of the Life of a Uni Student. And as I watched the cars driving past me on the road leading to my hall, I felt like running in front of them, not to die lah, but just to see if some sense can be knocked into me...and to see if I can feel more alive and everything less surreal.

Then I saw people rushing back to my hall for a concert we were going to hold later on. All of a sudden I teared a little and felt like bursting into tears, walking in the rain a la a Sun Yanzi MTV ('cept that there wasn't any rain and it was quite stifling hot). I THINK IT'S THE LACK OF SLEEP! AND THE FACT THAT I HAD TO READ TWO DEPRESSING NOVELS IN A FEW SHORT HOURS!!! AND MY STUPID TEST MADE ME AS IRRITABLE AS IRRITABLE BOWEL SYNDROME WHICH I THINK I HAVE.

I haven't had more than 4-5 hours of sleep in a while. And also I think it's PMS. And some other things. The heat, am always sensitive to heat.

Eh I feel very unfunny now, like where the heck has my sense of humour gone ah?? I seriously need to start watching a Korean Serial like 'My Girl' and get it all out.

"Heidi will live to die another day!"
(ok in case anyone thinks I'm entertaining suicidal thoughts, I'M NOT. Although maybe not studying hard for my mid-terms is suicidal.)
AHHHHH!!

Dancing and Walking.

Sometimes I feel like sticking a velvet knife into myself and leave it there. And walk around with a knife sticking out of me like a song that you can't get out of your head.

Today during South Asian lecture, the lecturer played a few videos mostly showing how horrid the life of South Asians are. Perhaps he got a pleasure out of showing spoiled bratty Singaporeans/foreign students like us lucky enough to have butt space in an air-conditioned lecture theater while dusky starving kids are out there plowing the fields and not getting enough to eat.

Watching how they painstakingly harvest rice makes me gulp guiltily at all the food wasted in my hall.

He ended off the lecture with a very traumatisingly violent video that made my friend cry and made me pray that I do not embarrass myself by bursting into tears. Really man, this prof with the wild hair, unkempt beard and potbelly must have gained perverse pleasure at watching self-assured youths like us grip our seats and bite our lips with discomfort at the plight of others.

Anyways, I've just came bac from a hall bash at DXO. The music was loud. I went off early with my neighbour to walk around the Esplanade/Clarke Quay/ Boat Quay. She was yawning frequently while I persistently walked walked and walked.
Trying to walk off my frustration, trying to walk off whatever that's haunting me. Trying to search for some place more happening.

But as usual, it's like trying to catch hold of light. All you have in your tightly clenched fist is a handful of dust and broken dreams. (as usual Heidi is trying to be abstract here because what she is saying doesn't really apply that much to her life)

Next Friday it'll be my hall's Dinner and Dance in which my table will dress as chess pieces. O Happy Day.

Maybe I'll go as a horse and starting neighing and butting into everyone. Oh wait, I'm already doing that.

Toodles peepies!

"Dance like you're not afraid to look stupid."

Floorballs and studies.

Good morning Folkies! Rise and shine!
I have floorball competition later on at 12pm so I'm feeling all mellow now.
It'll be time to kill everyone who comes in my way later!!! *makes some triumphant orcish noises and raises her imaginery floorball stick up*

Yesterday night I went to Vivocity with the rest of the people at my hall who weren't going home for the weekend. My reaction at seeing that big shpping centre and so many people shopping was rather embarrassingly like a country bumpkin. A country bumpkin who was dressed in sleeping attire.

"AHH!! So many people! AHH SALE SALE!!"
Yes, this is what happens when you stay in a hostel too long and the only places you go and the people you meet is the uni/hall and the uni/hall people. Seeing other unfamiliar strangers will tend to jolt your senses, I've sort of forgotten there are people existing outside the world of my hall.

And people, I've lost some facial fats!! The last time I could actually see the shape of my jaw/chin clearly was like in primary 4! HUA-LALALA LALA! Ok so I've gained pimples in return but at least I don't have to go for lipo on my face anymore!

It hasn't sink into me that Uni has started, just in 2 weeks I've skipped 3 lectures and slept through the rest. I haven't done my readings and I've not done my homework. It's like the return of my JC life all over again except that I don't wear a uniform.

Fortunately, the hall wing that I'm staying in is filled with conscientious people, 4 out of the 6 people who stay in my short wing are so hardworking they make ants look like fat sausages, The other 1 out of 6, is rather hardworking at washing her face, and at gliding to and fro from the toilet in her black or pink nightgown depending on which week it is.
That leaves only one left and that's me! Heidi!
Heidi is hardworking at attending trainings and making crappy jokes as well as disturbing the studious people in her wing.
Heidi makes ants look like anorexic bacteria.

Heidi is sooo gonna suffer if she doesn't buck up and slap herself on that butt to get moving for floorball competition now and for her studies later on.

So folkies, do give some encouragement for Heidi, wherever and whoever you are. Also pray that she can score even if she doesn't study that hard.

Yay. Heidi's going off.

"I don't meet the competition. I crush it."

The hall, the room the ants and the me.

Dear all, I now live in a hall in NUS. I'm a hostelite! And I'm not loving every minute of it, because somehow I seem to wake earlier and sleep later here than I would at home. That's not the main reason though. Maybe one day I'll know why.

Living in a hall makes you feel isolated from the world outside, because you hardly get to touch a newspaper or the TV unless you knock onto them accidently. Even then this only happens occassionally, which is quite an achievement for me since I'm as clumsy as a blind hippo.

It isn't very conducive for studying too because my room's right next to a construction site and there are always all sorts of hall activities to get involved in. Like floorball...netball...volleyball...handball...and other balls you might think of.

I get a room all to myself, and debris flies in frequently courtesy of construction words. Tacky seems to be adjusting better than Toe. Tacky goes bonkers everytime someone comes near here because she's turning out to be quite the little beggar/bugger for food. Toe is more anti-social than usual, facing the wall for hours a day, unless Tacky's constant maneuverings happen to knock her away from her rotting spot. Then she just stares at whatever's in front of her. Usually water.

They are my rocks. Boulders. Pebbles. Stones.

Hall life and the people are as bewildering to me as I am to people. Sports, culture and committee - the holy trinity. Sometimes it feels like a regression to my self-absorbed, selfish and ignorant teenage years. Sometimes the seconds tick by and you feel like the only person in a vast unknown world. Sometimes people pass by you and you feel like a inert object in a sea of moving...thingies. And sometimes I get too abstract because I'm just typing for fun and have no idea where my typings will lead to. Perpetually a jigsaw piece that belongs somewhere in the X-files area instead of wherever it is now.

Regardless, I would still choose to stay in the hall if I could make the choice again. It's an experience; however bittersweet and wrenching it gets, that would perhaps shape my life, destiny and all that higher-being bigger-than-your-life way.

If only I can get rid of all the ants in my room. They seem to pop out of nowhere and march towards nothing in particular.
And that time a cockroach scuttled around in the kitchen and keel over in the corridor outside my room. *cue hysterical screaming*. In case you think they are here because of me, let me say they existed before I move in and will probably still be merrily crawling around by the time the sun becomes a supernova and all my oil have disintergerated into nothingness...and that's saying a lot! (the oil part)

I've got two postcards of Heidi...Klum stuck to the bulletin(however you spell it) board in front of me, she's luxuriating in a way only supermodels in a bathtub of Katjes yoghurt gums can. And in another postcard, with quite a tired smile but looking gorgeous as always and holding a packet of Katjes yoghurt gums while the same bathtub covers her essentials.
Yeah that's about the extent of my attempts to make my study table more inviting and less bare.

Seeya again folkies! Been missing you people, whoever you are, or if you're even people...nevermind. My mac can't really access my blog without getting lots and lots of horrible pop-ups. Doesn't happen with a windows. Maybe it's a sign for me to change my blog template. Oh well...when I feel more hardworking. =D

"Heidi's going to lose 5kg in 2 weeks with the amount of sports she's playing coupled with the inability to stomach hall food without going into depression over the worse than prison fare."

Harry Potter makes me feel hairy.

I've just watched the new Hairy Potter movie, Order of the Phoenix and I agree with 8 days magazine that its 3 stars were fully deserved. Is that a good thing? Nope.

As a movie itself, without any comparison to the book it'll be around 2 and a half or 3 at the most stars out of 5. But when taken in comparison to the book, the movie is disappointing to say the least.
While I was watching it, I kept thinking "I wish they could remake no. 5 over again because it's forever going to be rather a rather sub-standard movie in the series."

SPOILERS!!!
I read that a new director, known for his dark movies was hired to direct this one because the movie producers wanted a dark feel to this movie. Dark they certainly got, but the movie was dark without an accompanying emotional intensity. So it was all just gloomy for the sake of being gloomy. Rather like the self-absorbed moodiness of teenage angst. "The world is so unfairrrrr" "let me just dieeee", just makes you feel like rolling your eyes.

Perhaps it's the scriptwriters' fault. I know hundreds of pages worth of storyline is very hard to cram into a 2 hour movie, cutting out some parts are inevitable. However they cut out the truly important parts! They cut out the essence of the book, the emotional punch and the real darkness of the book!
The darkness of the 5th book can't just be achieved by low lighting and sepia-tones, it's about the internal anguish in Harry's mind! All we get is just the scenes of himwrithing in, drenched in sweat, waking up and gasping. Hello I really couldn't feel his panic and pain, only the feeling that it's just a different kind of wet dream. Or that he has a serious case of ezemia(however you spell that) and is just writhing in unbearable itchiness.

One of the biggest outrage is they cut out the part where Sirius gave Harry the communication mirror and Harry didn't think to use it until the end, when it was too late. That part gave me chills in the book because it more than anything, just summarises the torment, the loss, regret and preventable sacrifice that were the themes of the book.

They also failed to capture the feelings of isolation Harry felt in the beginning of the book, they just show Harry being a little ostrasised and then turning the tide with relative ease. It wasn't so smooth-sailing in the book! Harry had felt like the whole world was turning against him, and we felt it with him. This movie didn't make me empathise for Harry...I just wasn't drawn in A truly good movie would have made audience enthralled, sucked inside the movie and either on the side of the protagonist or against him. Not just overall detachment.

There wasn't any development of character, no growth, no dawning realisation that his father wasn't that much of a saint he's made to believe in.
Neville's personal pains and bravery in overcoming them. No irony that Harry and Neville could have switched fates depending on Voldermort's choices.
Even Voldermort was just a cardboard villain, the evilness just diluted. A snarling visage and snake face isn't as scary as the chill that you get when you realise just how cruel and dangerous the villain really is.

The ending was also blah. I almost felt like I was watching those one hour dramas like Gilmore Girls. Where's the feeling of resolve and purpose, the triumph and the loss, the sense that a battle is looming??

It's all vomit all the action packed events of the book out. Packs all the emotional punch of a cotton candy. Even the action scenes were disappointing, not so much fear as theatrics. Rather cool theatrics though, spells fizzing about and all.
But that was about it, the movie lacks flavours, it was tiring and gloomy and people who hadn't read the book would be put off because they wouldn't know what's going on.
They didn't even make good use of the talented bunch of actors like Maggie Smith and the other actors besides Daniel Radcliffe. The lady playing Umbridge was good though, all giggling high-pitched delibrate cruelty-with-a-smile-on-her-face.

Why even bother calling it Order of the Phoenix anyways when there's minimal focus on the order besides secretive and meaningless meetings. They should just call it Harry Potter movie no. 5.
One word to describe the movie...immature. Or childish. Not in the way that it's meant for kids only, it's too dark for them. Just in that the movie fails to have any development at all, from the start to the finish.

I think I would have made a better scriptwriter. Seriously. Ring me up any day I'll do it for free. Ok maybe just transport me to where the movie was filmed. The scenery was freaking gorgeous, not as gorgeous as in the Prisoner of Azkaban movie but still...The scenery was one of the best things of the movie.
The book was really so much more than that.

"AIYA $9.50 SPENT JUST LIKE THAT!! I might as well re-read the book!!"

Live Earth and Happy Heidi Birthday

Well ok since it's my birthday I should break this wall of silence. I'm a busy bee you know! New news is that I've been redeployed from Toa Payoh all the way to bloody friggin far BEDOK!!!
I was so pissed at that guy who transferred me that I cursed him everytime I had to wake extra early, everytime I got lost on the way there, everytime I had to walk a long long way just to get to the office and get back home.
Spitting mad.

But you must always maintain a positive outlook towards life or you will grow wrinkles even before you're old enough to develop saggy skin. So keeping the health of my skin in mind, I calmed myself down and try to skip to work and back home. EXCEPT THAT I'M STILL BLOODY PISSED BECAUSE MY WORK LOAD INCREASED AND 3/4 OF THE TIME I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE BLEEP I HAVE TO DO BECAUSE IT'S TOO COMPLICATED!

I have salsa lessons on Monday and Jap lessons on Thursday, did he think it would be too inconvenient for me...did he even think to ask me?? ALAMAK, IT'S NOT LIKE I NEED THE MONEY ANYWAY.
Ok Heidi breathe...no wrinkles....no wrinkles...
the worse thing is, I'll feel too guilty to quit because I'm asst to a very very busy lady, and quitting would no doubt add to her work load, so I'll just have to grind on my teeth and bear it for the next 15 work days. Yes I've counted how many days more I have to work so I can cross each day by day off. Cheap thrill yah.

Ok on to more exciting matters, my birthday. And Live Earth happens to be kind enough to hold concerts on 7th July at 7pm, ending on 8th July at 7pm. So if you think about it, the concerts are more in celebration of July 8th than July 7th!

I used to be rather melancholic about my birthdays, still am perhaps, I don't know why but I would always end up crying on those days. IS IT PMS??? I think it's a curse! But let me not relate my sad past because today is supposed to be celebrate Live Earth day.
I could have been melancholic today, seeing as half my family is away and the other one person is well...
BUT I broke the cycle, I was...am happy! Meet each year hoping I'll grow wiser instead of moaning the fact that my youthood would soon come to an end.
Grow old with grace babe. Not that I'm old...but I feel old.
Which reminds of that time when a girl came to my office calling me "Aunty".
Aunty! She's 11 or something, I'm only 7 years older! I was halfway between amusement and mortification.

Live Earth helps a lot in maintaining my upbeat mood. I spent 12am dancing and trying to shake my hips to Shakira's "Hips don't lie", though I grew tired every few gyrations because, try as I might, I couldn't tell the difference between my hips and waist.
I also yelled at my father to wake up and wish me happy birthday.
Smooched Tacky a few times and said happy birthday to her too! She was given to me 3 years ago this day.

Although it was a blatant disrespect to Live Earth's values, I left the TV switched on so that there'll be a more festive mood, while I surfed the net. I was...am determind to be happy this birthday.

My birthday wish is for my dear's friend's dad have a speedy recovery! So grant that alright? Whoever's watching?

To update you peepies in a few sentences...I got into NUS Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, I applied to Kent Ridge hostel and would be checking in July 29th, I'm determind to use the gym there and lose weight so I'll become gorgeous...or more gorgeous than I am now. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAH.
Ok stop it Heidi.

I would like to join Fencing and Archery. And Nan Hua Pai, a chinese martial arts thingie. And Tai Chi. And moutain climing, rock climbing, go on overseas community service, get a student exchange term to either JAPAN (hai hai) or Scotland (sorry lah read too much Romance novels, I was hoping to meet a brawny highlander who'll sweep me off my feet...among other things) get into the Dean's list (because I have to make up for all those years of laziness and start having a goal to reach) grow up ( I have a great deal of growing up to do, height and wisdom wise...wisdom wise NIAK NIAK pun pun)

There will be obstacles such as not having my own toilet in the hostel and how to lug Tacky and Toe from home to hostel and keep them clean and green. Life is spread out before me like a buffet whereby I have to eat and eat.

Above all Heidi, grow old with Grace, stay happy.
I had a dream just about two nights ago, about my eyes...about having deep set eyes. Being the useless info maniac that I am, I went to search up dream interpretations, seems that to dream about your eyes shows intuition, gaining insight and wisdom and all that. That's quite a nice omen.

I love the world...I love the human spirit and togetherness...We're all threads interwined and connecting! How can you not feel happy when there are blue skies and green earth (while we still have it) and a green turtle who scrambles away everytime you wave your arms at her.

oh dear, I'm going all New Age Guru Hippy. Make Love not war yo. AHH I'm scaring myself.

"LIVE EARTH! Love the world, hug a tree, kiss a kitty and recycle your toilet paper. Adopt a turtle today!"

Aiyo so stressed.

I've finished watching two movies on youtube during my working hours on Mon. Today I have started on a drama serial.
Tomorrow I shall continue with this serial and search for more, so I will have something to watch after that.
These days I'm fretting over what to bring to the office to while away my time.
Romance novels? Games? TIME 8 days, Tacky darling tortoise. And also trying my darndest to think of what shows to watch on the computer.

It's really killing my brain, the way I have to come up with ideas on how to spend my time in the office. Lately I've been given to calculating my salary per day, per hour, per minute, per second and how I might spend it. What's lunch gonna be and the calories. Should I walk to the hawker centre instead of having my colleague by it for me? I may lose more weight if I walk but I feel too lazy.
What brand of anti-bacterial wash should I get, so I can clean the phone.
What's the fastest time to get home, why is bloody NUS taking up so much of my life by making wait for a reply.

Oh there is a mother cat and two kittens nestling just outside my office, how should I make the very fierce black mother cat used to me. I bought her cat food and I think she's starting to be less wary of me already. At least she stopped spitting at me whenever I lean over her and her OMYGAWDSOCUTE kittens.

And to think I thought life at the work place isn't stressful.

Heidi's first two days at work.

I have a new job as a...I have no idea what my job title is though. Even my job scope is unclear, the salary unclear, don't know what's happening most of the time and best of all I don't even know which company I'm working for.

But the one thing I know is, in this job I get to sit down at a desk all day and use the computer, surf net watch shows play games read books watch vcds take a nap.
Yah so from 9am to 5pm I just wait for people to call me to lodge a complain about their kitchen windows shaky ceiling paint coming off, too many bugs in their house, too much noise need advance notice about painting jobs blah blah blah. Basically all the usual complaints people like to make about their houses, expecting people to fix them even though technically we're only there to paint their front doors.

I think it's because contractors inspire complaints. And being typical Singaporeans, if someone's there to paint your front doors why not ask them to come take a look at the problems in your house and fix them for free! Oh and put the blame on the works we are doing that caused the problem in the first place.

Yeap like the fact that the ceiling paint is coming off ever since 5 years ago is due to the painting works we've just started on the doors of apartments.
Oh and because there are flowers and grass outside your house that is causing many bugs to crawl into your homes, we have to get rid of all the poor faun and flora.

BUT apart from the annoyance and scoldings I get, I might as well be working the slackest job in Singapore. I slack even more than a tai-tai because a tai-tai needs to go for manicure appointments, high teas and look pretty and all that.

All I need to do is say yes yes ok ok, I'm sorry ok ok and place the phone far away from my ear when they complain. And some Singaporeans are really bad at being sarcastic and trying to phrase their scoldings in a sacarstic way and trying to manage a derisive laugh.
Like please lah. You think the other person on the line is responsible for all the problems you're currently facing, boss scolds you at work boyfriend dumps you and all that is it. You know even those chatlines also cost money! Just because it's toll-free doesn't mean you can unload the whole barrage of frustrations accumulated in your entire long-suffering life onto a total stranger who probably doesn't even know what you're talking about in the first place.

Ok that's all. Overall even though I'm bored to death at work sometimes and suffer from a numb posterior, it's well-paying for 8 hours of next to no work at all. And I even get to watch youtube.
Anyone wants to visit me? I'm free free free.

The Mother of All Screw Ups

One of the most bloody friggin bloody things I've ever done in my unforunate life is to go for today's USP NUS interview and talked about bloody friggin romance novels to the interviewers.

If they do not write me off as a total bimbotic airhead and wonder why I manage to live to 18 years without getting knocked down by a car or something, I will be surprised.
They would not have been surprised had I walked into the interview room carriyng barbie dolls and wearing pink. Oh wait, I was wearing pink.
Of course this is not to say all those who wear pink, play with barbie dolls and only read romance novels are bimbos.

Only me.
Because why? I didn't make sense during my interview.
I wax on and on about helping people, reading TIME magazine about wars and "So have you done any volunteer work?"
"Oh no, I have to save money for university"
No wonder she had a puzzled look on her face because I DO NOT MAKE ANY MORE SENSE THAN A TALKING BANANA.

And I called the people of USP opinionated. I talked about bloody Sudan, about wanting to join the MFA so I can do charity work, about ROMANCE NOVELS. Omg.
I talked...to the interviewers...when they asked me what novels I've read...about romance novels.
And they prodded me on and on to talk about them. Perhaps because it was entertaining. Just like it's entertaining to light a fire under a baboon's butt, while the baboon is busy searching for kutu(ticks) in his fur.
They asked me what I learned from them, why I like them blah blah blah. What can I say, for the cheap thrill? For the karma sutra poses? For the fantasy of finding that perfect guy? For that pathetic lonely soul who so likes tortured men??

And when I came home and saw all the rather intellectual novels I have been reading recently, I slapped my forehead all over again. I couldn't have mentioned them, I just had to mention the most embarrassing things I read.

That's not the end of it but I feel too bashed up to continue bashing up me bashed up self. Gah Heidi Gah.

So much for being showing being true in front of the interviewers.

Anyways friends, romances, what the hell I mean romanc...romans, and loyal readers, even though I have not posted for months, the monsoon season has come and gone, there are still people reading the blog. Why???
I'm not that funny, nor interesting nor is there much going on in my life besides Tacky darling tortoise and stupid actions I make. Oh I think I know why, it's because I always manage to get myself into the most abnormal situations without even needing to lift a finger.

It's comforting to read about someone who gets screwed up as easily as one squashes a grape. Mm juicy.

Some people are just meant to live life precariously, always on the edge between normalcy and a sleep-at-trash cans kind of existence.
Boy, I'm glad I'm not one of them.

"Wind causes sand storms, tsunamis and...messy hair!"

Oooo salsa hot! Or maybe not.

Peepies! In case you're wondering where the heck I've died off to again this time after not posting for a month (which I think you should have come to expect by now this lack of updates since I am after all Lazy Heidi)...ok where was I...oh yeah, in case you're wondering, wonder no more!

For I have joined salsa classes! The first one began today and it was really more fun than I thought. What I had in mind was a room full of adults, me being the only kid, all of them having partners, me looking awkwardly pudgy and short, and no one asking me to dance and I'll stick out like a fat thumb in a room full of slender tapered and immaculately made-up adult adults.

Actually what I had in mind was mostly what happened. But happily the adults were probably too busy feeling self-conscious themselves to question too much yet another pimply teen trying to learn how to be seeeexeh!

I spent the first hour trying to gyrate while balancing my weight on one hip at a time and moving back/forth and side/back. It really is much harder than it sounds. My arms flapped helplessly at my sides even though we're supposed to lift them up at waist level, so-called the 'dancing position'.

I probably looked like a person who fractured both arms and is wearing invisible slings since three-quarters of the time I forgot to swing my arms back and fro while trying to step forwardsandbackwardsandgosidetotheleftandfrontandback. But it's alright since I am sooooo sure at least half the adults in my class are as an imbecile at this as I am. Hah. Hah. Most of the time I was trying frantically to recall where the frig is my right hip so I can place my friggin weight on it.

And I also probably looked like I was perpetually praying to God to please get me out of this torture since I kept looking heavenwards, although I was only trying not to look at my feet while I danced like they told us to, and looking at eye level as they instructed was too uncomfortable since it would forced me to look at myself dance, which was just simply...excruciating.

THE FUNNNEST PART WAS! Dancing to the music! With partners! AHHHAHAHHAHAHAHAH. Sorry, I still can't help giggling like an excited schoolgirl who has her first brush with guys. Which come to think of it, is quite applicable to me. AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH. Oops, there I go again. Fortunately, we didn't have to find our own partners, instead all the girls face the mirror while guys face the wall, so the guys would be standing in front of us, facing the wall and the intructor will call out to switch partners.

The guys have to place their right hand, palms flat out not cupped, on our shoulder blade (and strictly not anywhere below or above) and the left held out at our shoulder level for us to grip.

While girls have to place their left hand on the guy's shoulder and their right hand hooking (the term rather reminds me of a female praying mantis and you know what they do to males) on the guy's left. And the guys have to lead the girls around by nudging them (perversely, I thought of a different kind of nudging right there on the dance floor) in the direction they want to go.

So I've danced with many different guys, a few ok partners, some bad ones, most who messed up their moves and 360 degrees turns and all of whom were too tall for me. So instead of romantic moments where I stare dreamily into the guy's eyes, I was staring at their chests instead. We were dancing too close together, so it would be very obvious if I crane my neck up, not to mention tiring.

I think some of the guys, you can tell how good a lover they'll be by the way they lead and try to 'nudge' you, I was awkwarkly jerked around quite a few times. NIAK NIAK. Some stepped on my toes, some made me stumble, some had me confused as to where to want to go, some had no idea whether they were leading or following and most of all I had no idea what I was doing.

Oh and I told most of my hapless partners I had sweaty palms so please do not mistake the heat from my palms on their shoulder and on their hands as passion. Ok I didn't mention the last part. Most just mumbled it's ok, one endearing one said he had sweaty palms too!

I danced with tall ones, short ones, skinny ones, elderly ones, courteous ones and clueless ones. One best of all, stood wooden on the dance floor while I try my best to lead him into a semblance of a dance. Imagine dancing with a wooden block, I think even Pinnochio would have been more nimble.

All in all, although I wouldn't count myself as being Jennifer Lopez anytime soon, I would say the dancing did help fufill some of my romance novel fantasies. Sighs dreamily...Now if only my partners and I did not look like jerky penguins instead.

"Dance like you're not afraid to look stupid."

Mole Master on the wall, who's the most idiot of them all.

Folkies, my workplace is near Chinatown, and I have to squeeze through hoards of people to get to the MRT everyday after work. It's the Chinese New Year season! So you can imagine how claustrophobic it is to wind my way through Chinatown's noisy, red, garish alleys. But it's fun.

I got to know this old man who's a mole remover, for moles that are unlucky and all that. I uh. Removed some moles. And paid him for some fortune-telling. So actually I spent about $120 on him.

AHAHHAHAHAHHAAHA.
My moles are still around.

Anyways, remember the guy in the below post? Lets call him Pomelo. WELL, he comes to my office everyday to visit my friend(The Cheeze) and they both emotionally blackmailed me into staying for dinner with them and another guy. (It's a sort of blind date if you don't get why it's blackmail)
I tell you, my friend struck toyboy jackpot, cuz their friend is CUTE TOO. AND HE HAS A TIGHT PERKY ASS WHICH I CAN'T FORGET. Good bod, good face. And both boys are extremely attentive and gentlemanly.
I must have been touching lots of Cherry Blossoms late (tao hua yun! Chinese expression).

Anyways, The Cheeze and Pomelo went with me to visit The Mole Master and Cheeze asked about the mole below her mouth. "Jiu hou luan xing." (which means she'll be promiscuous when she's had a few drinks). I tried to stifle my horrified laughter, unsuccessfully. The Cheeze glared and wanted to immediately removed that offending mole, which I've grown accustomed to picturing her with.

As the Mole Master and us chatted on, the Mole Master suddenly said I like someone right now.
Cheeze: How can that be!
Heidi: *panicking* Yah! I don't like anyone!
Mole Master: Yes she does.
Heidi: *wails vehemently* NO!
Cheeze: That cannot be possible, I don't know about her liking anyone!
Mole Master: You think she'll tell you this kind of thing?
Heidi: (flustered yet amused) *thinks* Ok this uncle knows me quite well huh.

I placed my gaze steadfastly on Cheeze and the Mole Master, refusing to glance anywhere else, and thought "Oh sh*t."

The day after, I went to visit Master Mole again, this time with Huey Yen and paid him $80 to foretell my future. Ok yes Heidi is dumb and impulsive, enough.

Among the things he told me was that I'll fall in love with someone next year (and because Chinese New Year isn't here yet, it is technically still 2006 for the Chinese)
AND I DON'T WANT TO!! I DON'T WANT TO FALL IN LOVE *WAILS* And in case you think I'm in love with Pomelo, I also suspected it!

But I don't feel the urge to see him, or talk to him, or feel blazing jealousy when he and The Cheeze act all mushy, more like amusement.
Sometimes I'll glance at him to analyse if he's handsome or not, and I feel like a scientist trying to dissect a mouse to look at its insides, or a Mama-san trying to ascertain the flaws and virtues of the gigolo she's going to pimp. I even told The Cheeze to dump her current boyfriend and go with this guy instead, and even want to introduce my friend to Pomelo to matchmake them!
Very unromantic feelings lehhhhhhhh.

Sigh. I prefer talking to the Mole Master more. 64 years old and white-haired, mandarin costumed Mole Shifu~

Lust, Love and Nudity.

There are always weird thumping noises coming from the apartment above mine, especially during the night. If this wasn't Singapore, the land of People Who Have The Least Sex Annually, I would think my neighbours upstairs are actually showing their support for the government by trying to procreate every night, often in the afternoon and occasionally in the morning when people are trying to grab as much sleep as possible and avoid the reality of having to get up at whatever AM to go to school and work.

And If I was brave enough, I would have stood outside their house and scream "STOP FRIGGING MAKE FRIGGIN NOISES AND I MEAN THAT LITERALLY." everytime I hear the thumping noises that seem to vibrate throughout the entire house.

But the most I'll probably do is pwark out some swear words under my breath in the safety of my own home. Like a chicken. Pwarking pwark pwark. Pwarkers!

Folkies, you know from my previous entry that I'm selling Spa products. I got so desperate for a sale I actually went to sign myself up and coerced a cousin and two women into sharing a full package with me. If I had bothered to do some maths I would have realised that the money made from the sale is about...oh 1/3 the amount that I would have to pay for the package?

And oh, the fact that I really really feel uncomfortable stripping down to my bare ass for body massages? And have a woman touch me where no one has touched before? I HAVE TO SAVE MYSELF FOR MY HUSBAND!!! But I'm paying $86 for it. So well yeah. Anyone wants free spa treatments?

And after all this typing I realised that I still haven't gotten to the main point, the issue that brought my lazy fingers to blogger. It's a guy. Yeah. Ok you can close your mouth now. I have a little teeny weeny very small, about the length of one eyelash, size crush on this omigosh-he's-cute guy. But as all crushes go it'll probably fade away in about 7 years time for me.

I think it's the 7 year itch. The last time I was certifiably, stupidly, foolishly, horrifyingly embarrassingly in crush with a boy (who was a nerd to say the least, and had fairer skin than most females) was when I was in primary 5. I forced him to read a book I liked so that he'll like the book and me too. Ahh, the good ol times. Makes you feel like knocking your head in with a heavy frying pan.
Anyway he liked my classmate who become a good friend of mine, turned bitter enemy, to a memory I haven't met in 4 years, to awkward acquaintance when we ended up in the same JC and waited at the same bus stop every morning, to an eventual close friend who just had breakfast with me this morning. Life's a cycle like Madame Fortuna's wheel.

This current guy with whom I had barely 5 sentences of dialogue (I can't even say it's a conversation) didn't wriggle his tiny eyelash-length of a way into my...heart, until he held on to my arm and pulled me away from an extremely persistent Fitness Instructor from California Fitness (who followed me across a traffic light an into a shopping centre and managed to get my number, to get me to sign up for a GYM membership), thereby rescuing me from a situation where I was helplessly obliged to listen and smile painfully at the Fitness Instructor attempting to get me to sign up for an $80 membership. Which by the way I wasn't even qualifed for because I was below 21.

He likes my friend though. A friend who happens to be attached, but not to him. He could be her boy toy though. He's cute enough. Toyboys! Get yours today! And while you're at it, have a boyfriend waiting at the sidelines too!
Ignore my twisted bitterness people. It's a natural female phenomena, when one can't allow herself to have boyfriends now, yet feels the temptation to stick her finger into the honey pot of lurrve. And the boy of her choice happens to like another girl and one has a snowball's chance in a molten...blazing fiery hot whatchacallthat in the Sun's surface.

It wasn't only me who was affected, the rest of the other girls I was with got enamoured of him too. Except for the girl with her boyfriend who thought I was crazy because of my friendster profile, she had immunity.

Oh such a cliche, the damsel in distress being rescued by a knight and then going all into a tizzy swoon from the romance of the galant gesture. He has a rather good body I must say.
Perhaps it's lust, not crush after all. Darn, I need to get a vibrator.

He didn't affect me that much lah. But it seems fun to paint idealised versions of him and the arm-pulling incident in my dreamy pink imagination. I'm bored stiff from having to call people 4 hours a day and push them into buying something they don't need. That's why Tacky comes in handy at the workplace. She's a turtle not a vibrator by the way.

"A vibrator a day, keeps the thumping noises at bay. And the ocassional lust away."

Heidi's not a girl/not quite a woman/ not a student/not quite a freakinggroan-up

What happen to Heidi? Has she *gasp* join the ranks of the working world and abandon the crazy teenage life?!

Well dear friends and strangers and even family members, the answer is...I'M LAZY OK.
Actually right, I've quit my job as a virtual banker already. Like almost a month ago.

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And uh I'm employed again.

I work as a telemarketeer for Spa packages now. It's 12 treatments at $346 and 6 treatments at $198. Basic salary $8/hr, with 3 sales made a week it'll be $9/hr, 5 sales and it'll be $10/hr and so on...With incentives and commission and all that.

I work from 2pm to 6pm, Mon to Fri.
I made 3 sales in my first week last week, so I earned $229 for 20 hours which actually means I earned $11/hr.

I get to eat office food, listen to music, slack a little, feel relaxed, talk to people, go on a boss-sponsored holiday to langkawi/Genting/some cheap but hey it's sponsored! place


BUAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH HOW COME MY LOBANG IS SO GOOD. *slap slap* Heidi stop it.

And I get to wear jeans too! The same pair for 5 days in fact. SHHHHHHH.
And wearing sneakers so I can balance precariously in the train while some inconsiderate man leans against the pole, smearing it with his B.O so I can't touch it while trying to avoid smashing my cheeks into the elbow of the person next to me who's tall enough to grap the handlebars above. While at the same time, holding my bag close ot me so no one will reach into my bag and steal Tacky-in-her-pouch or my handphone (which I've attached a hello kitty with bells to).

With sneakers it's 500% easiertrying to balance myself and simultaneously avoid bumping into people or getting my stuff stolen, than when wearing high-heels that absolutely kill my feet and make me wonder everyday why the office environment is sexist enough that females have to wear heels to look professional while Men just need to black shoes that all look the same.

At least there was the occasional fun of jabbing into the toe of the person trying to shove you, with all your weight concentrated into a single, destructive heel and onto the toe of the offender. So yeah, women get their revenge too.

When I worked at my previous job, I felt a little like a pretender, wearing office clothes and pushing and shoving around the MRT like the rest of the working crowd. I kept thinking "THIS IS NOT ME I'M NOT A GROUCHY OLD ADULT I'M A YOUNG KID WHO'S WAITING FOR A LEVEL RESULTS AND I HOPE TO GOD I WON'T END UP LIKE YOU ADULTS LIVING ROBOTIC PUSHY GROAN-UP LIVES."

Going to work any time of the day is so stressful, that I get frustrated every nano-second by someone walking too slowly, trying to push and shove, not giving his seat to a girl like me, blocking the escalator etc etc.

And you'd think students hogging the front of the bus and not moving to the back is bad enough. Welcome to the world of adults and trains people, where people simply refuse to move to the centre of the carriage despite repeated annoucements by a disembodied voice to do so. Hello the annoucements to be considerate are in 4!!! languages. Malay, Chinese, Tamil and English. One language for each ethnicity, unless if you're Korean and only understand that or something. In which case you shouldn't be able to understand what I'm typing so this doesn't apply to you.

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OMG I'm GROUCHING. I'm acting like an adult!!! Shucks. I wish I was complaining about school and homework again.

Oh A levels results coming right up.
Woo. I'm so happy.


"Britney you're so me. Not a girl, not yet a woman, unfortunately a mother and husbandless. Ok besides that being a mother part."