On writing and feeling

*furrow brows*

I don't remember the last time I wrote a genuinely contemplative entry, the quiet kind, one that makes you feel like you're sitting knee to knee, in deep conversation with a person or with people who nod in understanding and know how much it matters to you, and share their own perspectives, the kind that, when you flip back to browse through with your diarist's eye, will have your eyes light up in recognition at the flood of memories of not only an event, but the feelings that come along with it. The kind that has your smile tugging at your lips at something amusing, a volley of laughter at a delightful narration, or a tear evoked by genuine emotion, blinked back into the warmth of your heart, or an eyebrow raised wryly surveying the impossibilities of your own words or another's, something natural and full of life by itself.

Where have you gone, these feeling entries of mine? Wilt thou come forth again, disregarding the growing pairs of eyes upon you, or will you be carefully dressed in words that say little, and feel even less? And will the memories fail to be significant because they are not lovingly recorded, full and beautiful in their sincerity while simple in language? Will you stumble out awkwardly, like the writer who strings you together, worrying about who you may offend, or how much you will be undervalued, whether you will be like everyone else-- the glizty photos, the necessary tinge of humour, the diplomatically correct speeches, the laughter without the tears, the smile without the wistfulness, the hope without the fears? The perfunctory updates: I exist because I tell you so, the quick flashes of moments that linger not, come, touch and go, breathless, mundane, and careless, without heart?

Are you afraid to write the way you did because you fear you have lost the easy, frank, direct style, because everyone else is writing, because you think these lingering entries become a wannabe cheemo kinda thing? Because types and categories have existed in these devices called blogs? Because you will only show a public self in a public arena?

Because you have begun to recognise every little word and image as so obviously a construct that you are afraid of having the fullness of an experience dwindle into nothing but a meaningless construction?

Do things lose their significance when they become common? Lose their class when they become popular, hence "average", "typical", "oh, like that lor, nothing much"?

Where are you headed, little writer, you fleeting thoughts so noisy and light? Where is your echo of the wave of emotions that wash upon your consciousness, that swish into visibility within your mind's eye? Have they all retreated into the ocean of subconscious, awkward in their self-consciousness at the sudden exposure, or have they been replaced by the pictures that seem to say more, the photos that gleam happy, bright and attention-catching?

Perhaps, little writer, your disappointments, your fears, your aches oughtn't be so hurriedly shoved aside in pretended non-existance. To be real you need to be whole, and to be whole you need to feel all, be all, acknowledge in grateful understanding everything, everything...

*casts a desperate glance at audience* But... too many......

And not write in codes that befuddle everyone and frustrate yourself. As though you never felt sadness, or anger, never wept tears or drew your blankets up to your chin, trembling in quiet nights and still mornings when no one stirs yet, when the enormity of everything hits you so acutely. Life and people and unknowns and big black looming uncertainties that reach out to pull you out of your comfort zone.

.......

Sigh.

*switches back to brisk conversational tone*

No, no usual square-shoulders-and-toss-head-and-everything-will-be-all-right entry-closing thing, and not even making optimistic promises this time because what do I say? I will write better? I will abandon trashy stuff? Certainly not quite possible, not when it proves to be cathartic sometimes, the writing process, though not always fondly re-read because it tells me nothing more about my life other than the fact that I mapled and gunbounded during the hols, made promises to read many books but did barely a few, or was rushing deadlines for essays and cannot finish my text Middlemarch... The bla-bla stuff will stay, but I will attempt more... meaningful entries, in a sense, to recall why I started writing my online diary early in Sec 2, those entries that matter, those moments a distinct glimpse of a moment in the 525,600 minutes in a year, certain quiet reminders of where I come from, where I'm headed, stuff that can be shared and understood.

Perhaps not by so many. I hate it that I feel uneasy with people, lots of people, and it nags at me so. *sigh* We'll see how it goes.

Carolling

Update: timing changes...

Carolling with Reso! =) I'm performing on

-18th Dec, Sunday, Harbourfront, 3.30pm 3.00pm
-19th Dec, Monday, Junction 8, 8pm
-23rd Dec, Friday, Harbourfront, 4.30pm 5.00pm

It'll be wherever the stage is usually located in shopping malls... ground floor, somewhere central...

Drop by if you can k?

Chlamp 2005

I wanted to write a full Reso Chlamp photo-entry, but then I saw Celena's post, which just about covered everything beautifully... I've gotta hand it to her, she's a lot more hardworking with gathering and posting pictures than I am *grins*

Just one more photo here as a memento, though...


Amanda calls this a sanctuary, Shuying and Cel describes this as a horde of illegal immigrants, and 3za says it looks like a prostitute's den (disclaimer for 3za: joking only, hor...) but really, this is quite simply a bunch of the nicest girls you can ever find, anywhere. Right? *grins*

And it's true... Not only for the girls, lar, we have very likeable guys as well, only that we never managed to get an all-guy or a full-Reso chlamp photo... Never have I seen a bunch of crazier, louder, shriekier, more excitable lot than Resonators in a chalet, erm... playing heart attack. *laughs* Or an entire bunch of people taking pride in the most impossible things, like cheering madly for a wider waist or a bigger nostril, courtesy of a very noisy in-our-hearts-we-win purple team. (But black team randomly won these two categories! Teeheeheehee) All in all it's been a delightfully enjoyable, madly fun three days in chlamp, with food and songs and lovable people.

Next year I still want =)

M'sia trip pics

I have truckloads of overdue photos! Have been quite busy lately, but I suppose it's time I post them up before they're so outdated that they becomes irrelevant.
So here goes! Pictures from my trip to Malaysia:


The five star bus that we took there... solid double deck with a karaoke lounge on the first level!


It's very very comfy.. we've even got a personal tv and headphones set to ourselves, with 8 different channels to choose from!

Very scenic picture taken on the way...



Freaking lot of palm trees! You can see why palm tree products are Malaysia's main exports... I remember watching the channel 8 9pm show the other day, when this guy Martin got quite lost in a forest of palm trees while searching for his girlfriend Lulu's home, and was telling my brother the most unhelpful directions he could give in the the scenario: "Hello? Lulu! I'm lost! I'm currently in between two palm trees, can you come and fetch me?"


More forested land on our uphill journey towards Genting... It's a 7-frigging-hours journey! My 151 journey is peanuts compared to this. (And when I say peanuts, I don't quite mean it in the NKF way)


Relieved to be back in the hotel...


View from the hotel room window... It's terribly foggy!


It's windy as well. Freezing cold!


We went to the theme park...

where I accompanied my brother on kid-rides...


In the more romantic sense the misty Genting is like a city in the clouds, located way up in the highlands, with wind that rushes past in gusts and fog that wraps you up in a chilling embrace. But Genting indoors isn't that much different from the usual town, with its hotels and restaurants and shopping malls and arcades. The main draw is of course its casinos, which I obviously cannot describe in detail, being one year short of being an adult. I'm not complaining, though. I'd rather be a kid in a theme park than an adult in a casino.


We left Genting in a cable car. Happy happy. No more long twists and turns round and round the mountainside, and you get a paranomic view of the lovely lush forest and the mountain range.

We arrive at Colmar Tropicale in the late afternoon...It's a lovely French village located midway up the mountain, quiet, quaint, picturesque. (Yah, I know, I shouldn't resort to these tourist-y vocabulary, but I don't mean it in a derogatory manner in any way. I love the peaceful country feel of Colmar Tropicale more than I did the city-Genting.)




Upon walking across the drawbridge-like wooden pathway into the stone-paved street, you almost expect someone to go, "Welcome to Diagon Alley!" Pretty, isn't it?


The inside of the reception area, looking out into the 'street', with its pale yellow curtains and 16th-century suits of armour.


We've also got a four-poster bed, Harry-Potter style!

Colmar Tropicale boasts lovely surrounding attractions as well. There is of course the breath-taking scenery right outside your window:


a rabbit park,


where I made friends with this sweet little fella..


a Japanese garden,


and the Botanical gardens.

I love being surrounded with lush greenery and pretty pretty flowers! It's so soothing and so alive at the same time...

So that's it for my Genting-Colmar trip this December... there is a lot more to say, of course, and I'm being as brief as possible in letting the pictures do the talking, but ultimately visual images can capture beauty more so than words can, without retaining biasedness in the form of one's emotions that might otherwise colour the picture differently. It was a lovely trip, but all the same I'm glad to be home, for even in the midst of refreshing newness I seek comfort in familiarity. Perhaps 11 years of not travelling have taken some of the adventure out of me, or perhaps the reason of the trip as a necessary relaxation and a pulling away from the strains of worklife may have ignited some tension and worry, because sometimes it frustrates me that I cannot help my parents lighten up, but make things worse and spark tempers off in a series of unfortunate accidents... perhaps a lot of things, stuff that cannot trivialised into pretty words... But anyhow, all's well that ends well... I think. =)

So, till the next blog entry, ciaoz~

I'm so glad to be back in Singapore! *flings arms out to embrace the world* I love home home home! The trip to Genting and Colmar Tropicale was quite lovely, minus a lotta... *frowns* tensions, or whatever you might want to call it, stuff that I would much rather chuck aside out of acute consciousness, so I'll gladly refrain from elaborating.

Tomorrow (today, technically) marks the first day of Reso Chlamp [termed coined by dear 'mum' and president Cheryl] and I realised, much to my horror, that I have not revised my Christmas songs. Eeks! I shall hum my way to Pasir Ris tomorrow. My backpack looks intimidatingly bulky, but I always like to bring slightly more than necessary, if only to reassure myself. Gonna sing sing sing again! *beams*

Shall blog again after the 8th. And must convince myself not to spend too much time on maple. *sigh* You're such a horrific girl, Charm.

More later =)

Post-exams

Heya dearest people, many thanks for your well-wishes... the rest of you still doing papers, hang in there, and good luck!

Will be in Genting from 30th to 3rd or 4th, my first trip overseas after a good 11 years(!) Shall be back just in time to pack for reso chalet =) Want something? Leave a note, and maybe I'll get it for you ^_^

Meanwhile, who wants to take a module together? Leave a note, too! I'll be taking Shakespeare and Romanticism, and perhaps Singapore film for SS(?)... still debating on Renaissance, because of the consecutive exam dates, otherwise it's Feminism or Lit and Psychoanalysis, if anyone's interested in doing Freud with me =) For leftover UEs... Soci doesn't seem timetable- or exam-friendly this month, so maybe EL, or another language... we'll see...

I shall draw up a list of must-reads for the holiday season, and scare everybody before the new sem starts. Haha!
(i) Important Greek mythologies
(ii) The Geography of Thought
(iii) The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass (sequels to The Golden Compass)
(iv) Olympus (sequel to Ilium)
(v) Two sets of Reader's Digest 4-in-1 Select Editions
(vi) Three months of Reader's Digest magazines (what? it is very wasteful to subscribe and not read, and I haven't had leisure reading all sem, whilst I was busy reading my lit texts)
(vii) Something from Terry Prachett (spelling?), I think, because I heard his fantasy books are funny, and I love light fantasy.

*pauses* eh, aside from Reader's Digest, everything it sci-fi-influenced. Goodness. S/f is a lovely module, though, one of the very best I've taken so far... Attention-capturing, brilliant content and fantastic lecturers. Love it loads =) They should have an S/f module part two, or something. Bliss. So, if anyone wants to borrow books, I've got a budding library of lit texts =P Am so not selling my sci-fi/fantasy texts. You can try reading them, really~ Darn nice!

Oh! and one more to add to the (optional) reading list--*pauses sheepishly* Middlemarch, which, I regret to say, has been, till now, only a-third covered, despite being an examinable text. Eeps!

I oughta source for next year's books and cover some beforehand too -_- A bit scary to cram during term time. *feeling a tad overwhelmed* Oh dear. But aiyah, fun leisure reads first, just to ensure no reading phobia =)

I can't believe myself. This sounds absolutely nerdy, but let me assure you, I do read escapist literature as escapist literature during leisure time, and don't conscientiously extrapolate theories or world perspectives from them, so don't freak out, hor. It's just a matter of covering more books on top of the usual term-time reads, and both trashy and non-trashy light readings can still be a treat =)

Kk, must go. Leave notes!

Thoroughly exasperated, but must study, must rein jumpiness and settle down to Soci readings. It's the last paper! Must jia you!
Must not glare furiously at readings.
Must not talk to readings.
Must not go "WHAT are you talking about, you stupid thing? Who's your author? Why so pompous? That's not even accurate! Hello?!" and proceed to glare at authors' names, even when I disagree with the readings.
Must not screech at the end of one reading "You mean that's all you're telling me? all those pages of convulated language just to say something I don't need to know?"
Must not ask Dr T's lecture notes why they are being irrelevant and unhelpful.
Must not play maple to avoid studying.

Must... *struggles* mug...

Must... understand... draw... more... links...

Have... to... do... well...

Charm will survive. *defiantly* Oh yes, she will. One more day to freedom.

Muggerism to commence... soon.

Yay! Finished my last essay for the sem! *dances a merry jig* I shall declare a public holiday! And stash the bunch of stuff you see over here away!



Like real, lar. Even if though essays might be over... *sigh*


I still haven't finished reading this...


Yes, the formidable Middlemarch! And its thickness is not due to large font size, by the way... the fonts remain remarkably small...


Towards the end of semester the trend seem to have shifted to thicker books... look! they're almost as tall as my Xerox Phaser 3116! (and this is only 4 outta 16... one quarter of three-fifths of this sem's modules...)

*melodramatic sigh* Looks like I can't declare a week-long celebration for end-of-essay-assignments, then... Darn! I was looking forward to going out after spending four consecutive weekends on project and essays... and then what's this? Reading week already? And there you see the corridors of Arts fac empty of students... only to realise that everyone's booked a spot in the library, studiously mugging.

The horror.

But no matter, Charm will get down to studying soon... she thinks. After Middlemarch. *furrows brows* Uh-oh. Soon, lar. Mustn't neglect the two other poor fellas for too long, now...


"Oh, NOW you remember we exist..." *sheepish grin* Eheheheh...

Yay~ It's that merry time of the year again... Jia you yah, peeps, we'll pull through together, and it'll be December hols in no time at all! Take good care and study well =)

Your Blog Should Be Yellow

You're a cheerful, upbeat blogger who tends to make everyone laugh. You are a great storyteller, and the first to post the latest funny link. You're also friendly and welcoming to everyone who comments on your blog.

What Color Should Your Blog or Journal Be?

I like yellow. Yellow is sunshine and starlight (pre-school styled), bright and cheerful and warm and reassuring in its solidness. Good to see that my blog's somewhere there =)

Of Dogs and names

I was, as a kid, particularly fond of collie dogs, probably because of the Lassie novel, or probably because they are so beautifully majestic in their silky tri-coloured coats.

So I asked my tution teacher (in primary school I never used the word "tutor") one day, when it came to my mind that I shall attempt to write a story about a collie dog. "If you have a collie dog, what will you name it?"

Miss T pondered for a brief moment, then replied, straight-faced, "If it's male, I'll call it Broc, and if it's female I'll call it Flower."

It took a moment for it to click, but then she decides to supply helpfully, with a michievous grin, "Short for Broc-collie and collie-flower."

I never doubted her love for vegetables thereafter =D







On a side note, though. If -just if- I want to get a dog, what would you recommend?

I remember a good friend of mine telling me once that to write something down is to concretise the thing, to acknowledge the fact...

I refuse to concretise anything, then. I shall write ambiguously, beat around the bush, and allow all occurances to remain their natural fluid selves, uninfluenced by my words, because I know not how to direct them, anyhow.

I do write with certain few thoughts upon my mind, though, that you may feel free to cast your own interpretations from, and see if you'd end up with the same things. The real delight in the flexibility of ambiguous texts is when you're the writer and you hold your own agenda, and everyone else wonders what to make of it... For all you know I might be thinking nonsense that do not link to a big picture, but ah, you will not know for sure *mischievous grin*

Trailing upon the train of thought sparked off by S/F tutorial today...

If we don't pin something down with language, if I let the thought float, but refuse to confirm or unconfirm it... then it will remain real and unreal at the same time, right? And until I make myself pick one of the possibilites, thereby collapsing all other possibilities the moment I say, or think, or write so... The possibilities will co-exist, still, and everything is still open to me, yes?

How very intriguing. Yet... *frowns* if some related party were to make a decision, then he or she will have the ability to close down some of my possibilities as well. How far do our ability to direct ourselves go, then? Like the free moving particle that you are, your direction is still oft- changed by other moving particles, is it not?

There is something, I feel, that I have not caught upon yet, that the fact that the possibilities are endless, always, but I have not... (dare not?) step over my own boundaries to explore. And within my self-set boundaries, as far as the eyes can see, choices are so few, so few...

Is it a question of make-do, is the choice ever with me, or do they reside in someone, anyone else? Does it ever exist, something tangible, that can be felt, and understood, and desired, and known, within my sphere of whatever-will-be? Or is blissful unknowing the only factor that enables free will, to explore, to realise, to feel for oneself...?

Or perhaps it is not a question of being, but of time. Whatever will be resides in whenever will be...

But when, indeed?

Still high, unfortunately, so have not progressed with my nineteenth-century essay yet. I did take to reading my twentieth-century text in order to sober myself, but Nice Work, whilst full of intertextual allusions and interesting social issues, is not quite sombre enough... In fact it's brilliantly funny and a positively delightful read =) Ooooh, I love that book. It's... curiously easy to identify with bits of uni life and lit-lectures, it has a absolutely entrancing main character, and ends off on a cheerful note. (Scrap realism, I like happy endings.) Managed to speed through Pinter's plays as well, and was left utterly mystified, and a tad regretful that I skipped lecture and tutorial to finish up work. But with the migraine last Tuesday I doubt I'd have been clear-headed enough to process and absorb information. Nineteenth century lecture that morning, for example, had weird squiggly drowse-induced notes down the margins that I'm still trying to decipher, and I don't remember anything said about Middlemarch other than the fact that it was THE Victorian novel, which means I should get down to reading it.

Which reminds me, I still have my 702-paged Middlemarch (complete and unabridged) and my 637-paged Ilium to finish up. (Don't remind me about Soci and computing, I haven't touched em yet) I have this wicked inclination to read the alien-sci-fi novel and skip the nineteenth century classic, which wouldn't be prudent at all, but I have an essay to finish, leh. 1,339 pages is not digestable in two days, I'm not so lihai, yet.

Must stop whinging and obsessing over my readings. Sidetrack a little... Apparently everyone is swarmped with assignments recently. I turned up 5 minutes early for my lit tutorial on Wednesday morning, and spent an increasingly alarmed 15 minutes alone with my tutor in class. At 10.07am Gail and I were in quite a despair, she having only one student in class, and me being the only student in class, and not THAT inclined to have a 15 min one-to-one discussion on Dickens with her and then having an early dismissal thereafter, as she proposed we do. Thankfully enough three other classmates trickled in one by one by 10.15am, relieving me of a private consultation that I hadn't prepared for. Everyone else rushing essays, I gather.

Oh, I collected the KE concert tickets from YMCA today. Refreshing break, travelling elsewhere besides home and school (gosh, I sound so sua ku), with company, too =) I love walking out along the streets without any nagging sense of time constraint at the back of my head. Puts me in a cheerfully bouncy mood. Oh, and Rendezvous last night was quite delightful, did I mention that? SnB was lovely to watch, their fluid dances moves, the ease and the grace... Food was decent, too, but not quite enough, I think... and it was one of the most relaxed performances we've had, I think. Unwell was kinda... erm, zao sia, but Sukiyaki felt good, and Techno--an absolutely spontaneous last-minute decision practiced only three-quarter times-- was quite well-liked, I think =)

Many many thanks to my fellow Rendezvous peeps and to Wai Lun for coming down with us too! Looking forward to next prac (RFYs performing!), but must rein in my hyper-ness now and settle down to study Hopkins and Arnold and Nature in nineteenth century poetry.

Till the next time!

I kinda think I'm supposed to do work.

Singing keeps me sane, really, especially when my mind's stretched out tight like the last week, struggling to meet deadlines and packed with necessary and unnecessary bits of info you need to write essays with, so saturated that when you hop, you worry that some information may spill out of your brimming brain, or something.

But after a brief break and a practice and a performance I get so high, it's a bit hard to settle down and sternly tell myself "write, you silly girl, write!" I do get down to it sometimes after lots of procrasination, though, only to be faced with distractions from other modules: it's weird to brainstorm for ideas for both soci and lit simultaneously (much less computing, which is totally no link, lar) and I get odd fragments of every bit here and there, instead. Help! I'm not studying for a fragmented post-modernist exam where I get to write in fragmented post-modernist ways, I need to focus on one thing at a time, but how do I do that when they've all got simultaneous weekly deadlines?

Oh, and people who write cheem-ly in the forum freak me out. Sorry, hor, I like to write in proper English, but I don't use three to four-syllable words repeatedly in sentences and draw impressive examples everywhere from history and politics and literature and old learned men.

Sidetrack a little. Recently a thought occured to me... I was thinking, if knowledge is a burden, then all wise men must be rather short. Too bad the reverse doesn't always apply, or I'll be really quite knowledgable =)

See, I'm starting to gabble nonsense now. This is what forum posting for soci of pop culture does to me: I am now flustered and unfocused and full of nonsense. Or maybe it was the delightful little performance just now, heh. Rendezvous was not bad, after all, and like I said, performing makes me high.

I should read depressing lit texts to sober myself, and stop my thoughts from hopping all over the place. Leave you all with a pretty picture =)

Sometimes websites make the weirdest statements.



why, I don't look human enough?

Was feeling quite accomplished at having finished Great Expectations and The Golden Compass but realised that I still have to cover 3 more Pinter plays and the 800-page, tiny-font Middlemarch.

Nearly died during morning lect today, having my eyes open and staring but my brain completely shut down already. Forty-five minutes of that, and you realise that your eyes ache like crazy. I -MUST- quit sleeping at 3am. There goes all my brain cells, and my body does its final protest in a screaming migraine. For which I'm quite relieved, really--it's gives me no alternative but to stop fretting over my work and sleep. At least for a while.

Still remarkably cranky over project and essay. Should this not be a public blog, you'll see Charm practise her limited range of vulgarities, or, alternatively, engage in high melodramatic wailing gala-fair.

Gosh, my head hurts.

Musing...

Having missed my stop on my way home the other night, it occured to me, while backtracking to my proper stop, that the last part of my 151 bus trip has three consecutive bus stops stationed beside three places of worship: a church, a temple, and a mosque, in that order, all facing the same road. It's a very heartwarming idea, I think, (even if people may disagree), that three places of worship be placed side by side, yet given enough space of their own in between... like religions can actually co-exist peacefully, and ought to, even, so long as we give ourselves and others enough space of their own, we can stand side by side as good friends, if not family, and it would be all right, still.

That's the way it should be. *sigh* Not any way else. No human-perceived issues of superiority. No constructed hierarchy. No suspicion and skepticism.

We're different not because we're meant to isolate ourselves and alienate the other, or because anyone is better than anyone else. We're different because we need to believe, and learn to trust others, somehow, even if there are things that clash against our belief systems...

I think I'm over-idealistic. But still I believe that we can reach an equilibrium, a secure, genuine sense of harmony, because after all, what doth religions preach, but goodness and understanding to your fellow beings, different or not?

Happy Children's Day

Found on my old stickerbook:

I hope somehow there'll always be
A little of that child in me:
That soft sweet innocence of eye
As clear as ocean, blue as sky...
That eager reaching out of hands
To all I meet who would be friends,
And that I'll be sincere and trust
With childlike faith that all are just.
My life from worry will be free:
To happines I'll hold the key;
And every day from morn till night
Be filled with wonder and delight.
And though the years may come and go,
My heart will never older grow......


It's okay to be weary and jaded with the world sometimes, but I guess we could all afford to awaken that blissfully idealistic kid in us once in a while. Happy Children's Day, people :)


We're children, needing other children,
And yet letting a grown-up pride,
Hide all the need inside,
Acting more like children than children.

--People by Barbara Streisand, later arranged into this lovely lovely piece by A cappella ExpreSSS

Tag! My 5 Quirks

Alamak! Sorry Yuying, I haven't been keeping up with journals and blogs lately, and only saw your post today... But hmm, better late than never, right? :)

Tagged by Yuying

Instructions of the tag: Given a topic, you are to write down your answers in your blog, and then send the same topic to 5 other people. Write down the names of these 5 people and link to them on your blog. Go visit their blogs to notify them that they are tagged. The 5 people who are tagged should, in their own blogs, write down the name and the link of the person who tagged them, answer the same topic, and send it to another 5 people, etc.

The topic: Your 5 Quirks! My Quirks:

1. I talk to myself when I'm exasperated. Really. Only when I'm alone, lar. =D And then I proceed to talk to whatever happens to offend me at the moment. =P "Oh no, Charmaine, you silly girl, where did you put your eraser? Hmmmm. *rummages through belongings and frowns* Oi, hello? Where did you go, huh? Hurry up, don't waste my time~ where where where..." And when I find myself too stressed or depressed, I pep talk myself out of it. Sometimes you're the best person to lecture yourself outta misery =)

2. I like to sing on my way home. Which is why I love rainy days-- the way home is clear of people, all sound is drowned out in the pitter-pattering of raindrops, and I get to sing comfortably at normal volume. It puts me in a decidedly good mood =) But of course it does give rise to a number of potential embarrassments when you run into an unexpected stranger round the corner who shoot you weird looks, even after you've hurriedly cut off halfway through a note the moment he appeared -_-
3. I set three different alarms at half-hour intervals in increasing distances from my bed just to give myself the illusion that no matter how little I slept, I still have "half-an-hour more" :P

4. I'm not a chocolate person, the way everyone else I know is. When I take more than a small share of chocolately stuff I need to compensate with bucketfuls of water so that I won't fall sick, but strangely enough this doesn't apply when it's white chocolate, just simply because it's white :P

5. I like to skip down steps. I dunno why. Habit, lar. It's a subconsicous thing. Even on tiring days when I trudge up stairways and drag my feet on level ground and on slopes, I still bounce down flights of steps.

Okay! Now it's your turn! [Why are we allowed to tag only five? Oh well. Never mind. You guys pass the tags on, k? =) ]

Charm tags:

Pink-crazy Chair-mum Cheryla

Super photogenic Celena

Favourite phone-buddy Gillian

Ex-F.Maths student Almost-Chinese Major SC Finance Minister Maria

Hyper lovable Sharon

Essays and midterms and presentations and projects. Is it really necessarily to have one of everything, huh? Do I look like I'm taking only two modules per sem? Grah.

Technological misadventures

In a purely unintentional bout of forgetfulness, my brother left the old Nokia handphone zipped up in his trouser pocket after returning from his friend's birthday party.

And so it was that our dear old handphone took a nice long thorough bath in the washing machine, securely zipped in the trousers.

But that was not the end of the story, as we had so dreaded. The hardy old nokia 2100 emerged, not only clean and sparkling, but relatively unscathed, after some blow-drying. Remarkable. Either this old plasticky model is made to be water-proof, or my brother's pair of trousers are made of genuinely solid, water resistant denim material.

My brother escaped a earful, as well, with only my dad laughingly suggesting that he doesn't make it a habit to wash his phone regularly. Gah. I don't remember getting off that easily in my last two technological casualities-- the first time when I attempted to wash my keyboard after spilling stuff on it (no, don't ask), and the other time when my water bottle leaked severely and left my handphone swimming in the luxurious indoor pool that was my schoolbag -_- Neither survived, in spite of attempts to blow-dry, air, sun, dismantle, fan... I was, sad to say, mercilessly teased for my silliness for ages and ages. Until now, when attempting to make a point about how I do things without thinking them through first, my dad would punctuate his remark with "... like that time someone misread instructions and thought it was okay to wash the keyboard, hor..."

Unfair, unfair. But I'm still quite glad that the handphone made it through the wash. It has absolutely renewed my faith in the old series of Nokia phones. =) Who needs funky camera/videophones with bluetooth features when you can have a good ol' phone that can be dropped a million times a day and that has survived the raging waters of the washing machine? =D

中秋节快乐

I love the mid-autumn festival, the mooncakes and the myths, the lanterns and the lights... Mooncakes and lanterns mean get-togethers, doing the same things you've always done as a child, because tradition decrees it so. And I like it that way. The wave of nostalgia, easily recalling memories of night strolls and scavenger hunts back in Rosyth, playing with candles with cousins who have since grown distant, dragging out the tiny round kiddy table to assemble matches and candles and lanterns and mooncakes out in the garden with my grandpa, my parents, and later my brother. It's that odd, homey feeling that these seemingly unrelated occassions bring. Almost like national day. National day makes me think of my grandpa, too.



It's different now, most part of it, but the feeling still remains, that little tug of sweet familial warmth. I still find delight in lighting candles and pulling up the sides of the paper lanterns, watching them glow and flicker prettily in the moonlight, in a collective row. I think my mum likes it, too-- she's the one who hangs them up in position and stands back to admire her own masterpiece =) And it really is very pretty, once everything goes up.



It's quieter this year, as it has been in these couple of years, yet, clearing up the remnants of the paper lanterns and candles alone in the dark, after the noisy little one took off to bed with mum, I thought it quite lovely, still. Sitting alone out in the quiet garden, noises from the living room TV an insignificant mumble in the background, scraping bits of wax off the chairs and watching the last candle flicker in the cool night breeze, you get the incredible sense of present-ness. The here, and the now. No longer, like it is with all of us, every waking moment of our lives, what's next, what do I have to do now, what comes after this, but... a quiet, slow pause, unhurried... what is, now, what is, still-- just pausing, and being. How often do you ever get to do that? To feel yourself in the present, and not shoving yourself towards the future, or wallowing in the rosier memories of the past?

But I digress. Must move back to the topic at hand, and round it up so that I can go off to bed ^_^


Happy Mid-Autumn Festival, people =)

September Reverie

Radiant in pinks, purples and blues...




I have very power seniors =) Eh, we're still short of Davina...

Thankew for coming down to support,
my dear girls =)

September Reverie is proudly brought to you by Resonance... *smile* I love my Reso-mates!

Gosh. I am humongously exhausted. It’s one thing being just drowsy during boring lectures, but when my mind subsides into a static hum and I itch to sketch something on my notes just to sustain concentration (even before the lesson begins!), and take longer than usual to respond to simple tutorial questions, and barely even want to draw energy to talk unless necessary… Well. That’s taking things a little too far. :( Shouldn’t have stayed up until 2am (again!) last night, when my days have been stretching from 10 to 10 consecutively… It makes me quite zombified. Yours truly is not going to bother to sound insanely cheerful in this entry either, because that takes up too much energy, too. I’m just gonna ramble away until I’m fully conscious, or until it’s time for my next lecture, whichever comes first.

I have, recently, re-discovered the wonders of stoning, which is rather an amazing thing to do, because there's so much work to catch up on that stoning is really quite a luxury. But it's terribly therepeutic to sit and stare blankly at the space before you and empty your mind of thoughts for a while, but if you do that long enough people will begin to suspect that there's something wrong with you =P Which reminds me, now... I take slightly longer to focus when I'm feeling zonked, so if I happen to gaze at you blearily and for several seconds before registering your words, or if I'm giving you a glazed stare while you're talking to me, please do realise that I'm still in the middle of processing your information. =)

Am a bit disappointed that The Way You Look Tonight is scraped off the program. Am very fond of that song, but well. Better to give ourselves time to polish the song to its best after the concert, and then deliver it in its loveliest form, rather than perform it at the somewhat-murky stage we're in now... Maybe we can have it in a medley with Fly Me to the Moon *brightens* Oooh, I love rhythmic, soothing, laid-back pieces =) Now I can go and concentrate on smoothening my annoying cracking-range, which has been coming out horrifying thin and airy after a preliminary crackle. You can do it properly, Charm, come on...

Eh, lecture soon. Need to travel. Till the next time, then =) Come for the concert, k?

............

-So here I am, she thinks, her brows furrowed in anxiety.
Almost within the same moment the thought spilled forth, a wave of panic washed ashore with it.
-I shouldn't be here. I really shouldn't. There's so much else to do.
It's madness, to be surrounded by all the things she loves best, words and songs and songs and words, and to be overwhelmed because they just keep flowing, on and on, at a speed at which tips her off her balance, sweeps her into this rapid current that she must attempt to stay afloat, afloat...
Casting a worried glance behind her, then training her gaze ahead, she flouders, warning flags already up. She needs to up her pace, swim rapidly on, in rhythm with the waters, the unceasing flow... -Not that I'm complaining, she reminds herself again, because there is so much that she delighted in, but the speed! it aggravates her so. Why must everything move so breathlessly fast?

.............

Don't usually get annoyed easily, but ARGH. I know, I know, words are hurtful when misused, especially on freaking public blogs, so I shall not indulge in bitching. Don't like to do it anyway. But ARGH!, anyway.

Little rules of life can be followed, especially when they come with an instruction booklet. It's not so hard, is it? I don't like it when people complicate matters and then I feel guilty for them getting themselves in there, as if it was my fault that I didn't try harder to make things better. Didn't I?

I don't like it. I don't like it.

*sigh*

Scores of books and books of scores...

I think I was really quite lucky in sem one...





Lots of readings? Thick expensive textbooks? Beat this!














To be fair, though, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep (aka Bladerunner) has been quite a nice read, and Ender's Game was absolutely thrilling =) But don't read both of them at one go, it gets pretty depressing. You start to think dark gloomy thoughts of the sunken state of the human condition, and of the bleak bleak future ahead.


Am looking forward to the rest of my S/F books, but I'm still regarding the C19th and C20th with some dread. 700-paged ant-sized font classic Middlemarch doesn't look like something I'd particularly love, but oh well. Boring books often conceal a great deal of interesting ideas, multi-layered subtexts and intriguing analysis, if you manage to last your way there.

In other news, I've got four songs to memorise, two of which are relatively new to me, still, and are as yet unpracticed. *sigh* And it's high time we work our older pieces to something deeper than repeating the score... We'll see how Tues and Wed pracs go, lar. *hopeful*

Tapestry

Many thanks to Amanda for her lovely pink pictures =)



Art Tapestry '05. Reso makes our appearance downtown in a lovely blend of blue! (Just an observation... why do we always appear in descending order...?)





Close up of our lovely ladies




We look good in pink, too!



Now this has all the potential of an abstract, funky MTV: contemplative men in the foreground, rushing vehicles in the background... *grins* Very very nice.

*Yawns* Goodness, I'm so tired, I'll be glad when welcome tea is over and practices are just... practices. Where "homework" is going home to listen to noteworthy and to learn your score, instead of replying to emails and creating lists and sorting auditionees and smsing people and emailing again and planning food budget and the like. I miss singing, leh.

My texts and readings are putting me to sleep, and that's making me quite quite panicky. I should have a better appreciation of poetry and prose than this -_-'' Might have been part exhaustion, and lousy time management (as always!), and general slow-ness. Bah. And now, as with any new semester, it's a turning point, where changes come about and you pick yourself up and go along with them, but oftentimes I feel queasy. I don't like too many things changing simultaneously, though admittably variety spices up your life a little, makes it more interesting. But it also means uncertainty, and a curious in between state of knowing and not knowing, where you wonder just how things and people are gonna turn out.

Am feeling remarkably stoned now, probably because I was rather high yesterday. And because today's last sort-of "dinner" "outing" was a bit of a flop, seeing how the crowd dwindles into a bare few, and quite a number of us were rather zonked, what with not enough sleep and all. Oh well, not the best time for all, I guess. Never mind, next time. I'm trying to figure out when in the term would be nice, but so far the near future looks relatively packed. Hmph.

Shall go listen to nice soothing music, then go back to Wordsworth. Oh well, at least he's not as depressing a poet as... *thinks* everyone else. Jeez. Melancholic, yes, but at least he shows a healthy appreciation of the innocence of a Child, and the wondrous beauty of Nature, and the tugging nostalgia of what is slipping from our grasp... *nods* As far as I understand, I think so, too. And then if there's time I shall read my exciting-depressing sci-fi text. Oh! Which reminds me, Dr G was on the news today, at the Sunday Life! section where they interview learned people about the books they are reading now, and ask for their recommendations. Apparently now he's reading through 6 different books concurrently, ranging from essays on poetry to philosophy to science. That, on top of his year ones' and year fours' freaking essays. Now, how scary is that? :S Oh dear. Is that what they are training us to do, too? I'm a non-cheem, perfectly normal person who loves the subtle nuances and powerful suggestions and sharp observations that lit books yield, that's all. Not that my fantastic lit profs are not normal lar, they're more like... supernormal.

Sigh. Shall come back to write again later, when I'm being more coherent, and less drowse-induced.

Exasperation

Dear all, RSVP means 'please reply', so to those who have not understood, please follow the following instructions:
a) Click "reply"
b) Type "I'll be there, thank you." Smiley face optional.
c) Click "Send".

Thank you for your kind attention, you have just made Charmaine a little happier with your lovely reply.

PS. NO, you don't have to prepare anything. REALLY.
_______________________

No, I'm not gonna send this out. I'm gonna shut down my comp and actually attempt to begin my readings now. GAH. Tmr I will sms the Thurs/Fri batch one by one.

Cheeeesecake, anyone?

I feel like the help desk. So many emails, so many lists!

After tons of enquiries and RSVPs, I came upon the following, and have decided that THIS is my absolute favourite email of the day.

_______________

Enter your vote today! A new poll has been created for the
NUSacappella group:

Pick your fav cheesecake! Up to three choices only, please. =)

o Plain--oh-so-yummy classic cheesecake
o Caramel pear--classic cheesecake with delectable bits of caramel pear and a hint of caramel flavour
o Peach--cheesecake with delicious peach flavour and juicy peachy bits
o Coffee--savour the fragrant aroma of coffee in this unique cheesecake
o Marble--classic cheesecake with a twist: creamy swirls of chocolate
___________________


Nothing puts a smile on your face like the suggestion of having three lovely cheesecakes in your near future ^_^ I'm looking forward to welcome tea, aren't you?

I FINISHED MY AUDITION LISTS! *throws confetti* AND MY EMAILLING! *pops balloons*

Tremendous sense of achievement. Bwahahahaha!

One more report to go, and maybe ten thousand readings. Oh, dear.

Oh, and I got my first four choices of tutorial slots I opted for. Wow. But at the risk of being lynched by NUS people who have yet to recover from CORS, we shall not blow up this matter. Anyhow, my last slot ended up at a ridiculously out of point day and time, so if anyone asks, I still have something to complain about. Misery loves company, huh?

I began quite an elaborate post yesterday, but didn't get round to finishing it because I was dropping off to sleep. Very drowsy. Today, I thought to myself, I shall finish it. But after vacuuming and mopping the floor and ironing and folding the clothes and washing the dishes and another 100 pages of Canticle--which turned out to be the most exhausting of the lot, I wonder why...? I'm thinking, maybe tomorrow.

Then I find more work in the mail. Oh, dear. Long chatty entries will have to wait. And I was still hoping to quicken my reading pace before the week is up... how else am I supposed to keep up with 7-books-per-module...?! Books, reasonably thick, all of them, not just 20paged readings that you can cheat yourself out of once in a while, tho' that's not exactly a good idea either. Oh well.

Have lost the thread of my story already, because my attention keeps slipping when the story gets technical, and still I press on with no desire to linger, because otherwise the words gradually merge into random prints on a page, and my mind blurs into semi-consciousness. But I am three-quarter ways through now, and the goal's almost in sight *beams* Then I can move on to the 17 poems to be read by Tuesday. *cringe* I should get down to finishing the AGM report, though. Saturday, Charm.

Received a package from the mail today. Now, usually that would bring quite a stir of excitement, but I realised that it was Reader's Digest Select Editions-- The 4-in-1 book containing bestsellers that we subscribe to once every 3 months or so. Under normal circumstances I would pry the package open and survey the blurb with some anticipation, but... eh. *faintly put off* I shall leave this set of optional leisure reading aside for Christmas.

Shall keep this short, till the next time~

The Young Person's Guide to the Chorus

While surfing the net and finding nothing interesting to indulge in, I decided to google for Reso and 'a cappella', just to see if I'll be able to find Reso-related websites, or whether we've been mentioned anytime recently online. (Yah lar so kaypoh) And look what I found! This is an article that's been repeated across a number of blogs, mostly those of choristers, and I think there'll be many choir people that can... eh... relate to it in some way *grins* It's so incredibly funny!

Disclaimer: I didn't write this article, hor, and I have no idea where it originated... but it's a wickedly funny read all the same =)

THE YOUNG PERSON'S GUIDE TO THE CHORUS

In any chorus, there are four voice parts: soprano, alto, tenor, and bass. Sometimes these are divided into first and second within each part, prompting endless jokes about first and second basses. There are also various other parts such as baritone, countertenor, contralto, mezzo soprano, etc., but these are mostly used by people who are either soloists, or belong to some excessively hotshot classical a cappella group (this applies especially to countertenors), or are trying to make excuses for not really fitting into any of the regular voice parts, so we will ignore them for now. Each voice part sings in a different range, and each one has a very different personality. You may ask, "Why should singing different notes make people act differently?", and indeed this is a mysterious question and has not been adequately studied, especially since scientists who study musicians tend to be musicians themselves and have all the peculiar complxes that go with being tenors, french horn players, timpanists, or whatever. However,this is beside the point; the fact remains that the four voice parts can be easily distinguished, and I will now explain how...

THE SOPRANOS are the ones who sing the highest, and because of this they think they rule the world. They have longer hair, fancier jewellery, and swishier skirts than anyone else, and they consider themselves insulted if they are not allowed to go at least to a high F in every movement of any given piece. When they reach the high notes, they hold them for at least half again as long as the composer and/or conductor requires, and then complain that their throats are killing them and that the composer and conductor are sadists. Sopranos have varied attitudes toward the other sections of the chorus, though they consider all of them inferior. Altos are to sopranos rather like second violins to first violins - nice to harmonise with, but not really necessary. All sopranos have a secret feeling that the altos could drop out and the piece would sound essentially the same, and they don't understand why anybody would sing in that range in the first place - it's so boring. Tenors, on the other hand, can be very nice to have around; besides their flirtation possibilities (it is a well-known fact that sopranos never flirt with basses), sopranos like to sing duets with tenors because all the tenors are doing is working very hard to sing in a low-to-medium soprano range, while the sopranos are up there in the stratosphere showing off. To sopranos, basses are the scum of the earth - they sing too damn loud, are useless to tune because they're down in that low, low range - and there has to be something wrong with anyone who sings in the F clef, anyway.

THE ALTOS are the salt of the earth - in their opinion, at least. Altos are unassuming people, who would wear jeans to concerts if they were llowed to.Altos are in a unique position in the chorus in that they are unable to complain about having to sing either very high or very low, and they know that all the other sections think their parts are pitifully easy. But the altos know otherwise. They know that while the sopranos are screeching way on a high A, they are being forced to sing elaborate passages full of harps and flats and tricks of rhythm, and nobody is noticing because the sopranos are singing too loud (and the basses usually are too). Altos get a deep,secret pleasure out of conspiring together to tune the sopranos flat. Altos have an innate distrust of tenors, because the tenors sing in almost the same range and think they sound better. They like the basses, and enjoy singing duets with them - the basses just sound like a rumble anyway, and it's the only time the altos can really be heard. Altos' other complaint is that there are always too many of them and so they never get to sing really loud.

THE TENORS are spoiled. That's all there is to it. For one thing, there are never enough of them, and choir directors would rather sell their souls than let a halfway decent tenor quit, while they're always ready to unload a few altos at half price. And then, for some reason, the few tenors are always really good - it's one of those annoying facts of life. So it's no wonder that tenors always get swollen heads - after all, who else can make sopranos swoon? The one thing that can make tenors insecure is the accusation (usually by the basses) that anyone singing that high couldn't possibly be a real man.. In their usual perverse fashion, the tenors never acknowledge this, but just complain louder about the composer being a sadist and making them sing so damn high. Tenors have a love-hate relationship with the conductor, too, because the conductor is always telling them to sing louder because there are so few of them. No conductor in recorded history has ever asked for less tenor in a forte passage. Tenors feel threatened in some way by all the other sections - the sopranos because they can hit those incredibly high notes; the altos because they have no trouble singing the notes the tenors kill themselves for; and the basses because, although they can't sing anything above an E, they sing it loud enough to drown the tenors out. Of course, the tenors would rather die than admit any of this. It is a little-known fact that tenors move their eyebrows more than anyone else while singing.

THE BASSES sing the lowest of anybody. This basically explains everything. They are stolid, dependable people, and have more facial hair than anybody else. The basses feel perpetually unappreciated, but they have a deep conviction that they are actually the most important part (a view endorsed by musicologists, but certainly not by sopranos or tenors), despite the fact that they have the most boring part of anybody and often sing the same note(or in endless fifths) for an entire page. They compensate for this by singing as loudly as they can get away with - most basses are tuba players at heart. Basses are the only section that can regularly complain about how low their part is, and they make horrible faces when trying to hit very low notes. Basses are charitable people, but their charity does not extend so far as tenors, whom they consider effete poseurs. Basses hate tuning the tenors more than almost anything else. Basses like altos - except when they have duets and the altos get the good part. As for the sopranos, they are simply in an alternate universe which the basses don't understand at all. They can't imagine why anybody would ever want to sing that high and sound that bad when they make mistakes. When a bass makes a mistake, the other three parts will cover him, and he can continue on his merry way, knowing that sometime, somehow, he will end.

Top Ten Reasons for Being a Soprano
1. The rest of the choir exists just to make you look good.
2. You can entertain your friends by breaking their wineglasses.
3. Can you name an opera where an alto got the man?
4. When sopranos want to sing in the shower, they know the tune.
5. It's not like you are ever going to sing the alto part by accident.
6. Great costumes - like the hat with the horns on it.
7. How many world famous altos can you name?
8. When the fat lady sings, she's usually singing soprano.
9. When you get tired of singing the tune, you can sing the descant.
10. You can sing along with Michael Jackson.

Top Ten Reasons for Being an Alto
1. You get really good at singing E flat.
2. You get to sing the same note for 12 consecutive measures.
3. You don't really need to warm up to sing 12 consecutive bars of E-flat.
4. If the choir really stinks, it's unlikely the altos will be blamed.
5. You have lots of time to chat during soprano solos.
6. You get to pretend that you are better than the sopranos, because everybody knows that women only sing soprano so they don't have to learn to read music.
7. You can sometimes find part time work singing tenor.
8. Altos get all the great intervals.
9. When the sopranos are holding some outrageously high note at the end of a song, the altos always get the last words.
10. When the altos miss a note, nobody gets hurt.

Top Ten Reasons for Being a Tenor
1. Tenors get high - without drugs.
2. Name a musical where the bass got the girl.
3. You can show the sopranos how it SHOULD be sung.
4. Did you ever hear of anyone paying $1000 for a ticket to see 'The three Basses?'
5. Who needs brains when you've got resonance?
6. Tenors never have to waste time looking through the self-improvement section of the bookstore.
7. You get to sing along with John Denver singing "Aye Calypso."
8. When you get really good at falsetto, you can make tons of money doing voice-overs for cartoon characters.
9. Gregorian chant was practically invented for tenors. Nobody invented a genre for basses.
10. You can entertain your friends by impersonating Julia Child.

Top Ten Reasons for Being a Bass
1. You don't have to tighten your shorts to reach your note.
2. You don't have to worry about a woman stealing your job.
3. Or a preadolescent boy stealing your job.
4. Action heroes are always basses. That is - if they ever sang, they would sing bass.
5. You get great memorable lyrics like bop, bop, bop, bop.
6.If the singing job doesn't work out, there's always broadcasting.
7. You never need to learn to read the treble clef.
8. If you get a cold, so what.
9. For fun, you can sing at the bottom of your range and fool people into thinking there's an earthquake.
10. If you belch while you're singing, the audience just thinks it is part of the score.

____________________________________

*Dies laughing* This is so so wicked... Hahahahahaha... So does that make me a arrogant, flighty sop? Eh, stop looking at me like that... I declare that I never had any prejudices against my fellow singers, okay...

Now, I am sure you guys are reasonably tickled by this piece, so leave notes and make me happy =) and tell me which is your favourite line!

Much Ado about Singing...

Rushed down to ECPrimary after the DWT gig (well okaay, I didn't rush so much, I stayed to watch the gang play two rounds of bridge--which Derek won as usual--before scuttling off to journey from Clementi to Bedok) Quite a distance I must say, almost as bad as travelling to Hougang in 151... It's really from West-end to East-end =\ Then cabbed from the station to the primary school, which was stuck in quite an ulu corner... Perfectly on time, and Gekatiang! I arrived before you! =P

My interest was perked when Gekatiang first told me Miss Ong requested we help her friend teach her choir for the two pracs when she'll be away... if there was any job that sounded like a potentially lovely learning experience, this was it. (We-ell, actually Kidfest sounded really good to me also, but then... heh heh... those days at work were pretty crazy) There was a lotta apprehension, though, because it seems a great deal of responsibility that we make sure an entire bunch of little kids know their notes... Look to This Day was fine, but Wind Song is no joke, with the slightly complicated, different rhythms and clashing notes everywhere. Was faithfully mugging the score just to make sure that if they split me and Gek, (who's been our SL and piano-player for as long as I can remember =P), I could at least sing for the sops. (Eh, no joke leh, all the crazy high Gs)

It was, to say the least, both an eye-opener, and a voice-opener. These kids have SO MUCH to chatter about, and are so humongously active that when we entered the room, they were pretty much all over the place, with an exasperated teacher-in-charge somewhere in the middle. Eileen is quite a nice teacher, I think, sweet-looking and small-ish, like about my height, with quite a pleasant, mild manner, but woah~ Watch her settle the rowdy kids and you know she's got skill =P

It still took some twenty minutes, though, with random people streaming in past time, and everyone moving and talking and scarcely paying attention. "SIT IN YOUR POSITIONS! NOW! No, xxx, you're not supposed to be there... THREE ROWS, THREE ROWS... no, stop moving around, come back..." amid "Miss Cheeee, can I sit here?/ Noo, 'cher, you see, he's not doing what you said.../ OI, I am okay.../ Miss Chee, why..." which all subsided into silence when a very seasoned Miss Chee threatened that they stay in for two extra hours with no breaks. AHA. Now we know what to say in future ;)

The not-so-little ones made quite an impression, I must say. There's a sweet little girl who gave Gek and I directions to the music room when we first met her downstairs, looking at us quizzically at first, then helpfully leading us right up to the staircase, then adding that she's heading in the same direction. Turned out that she was from the choir ^_^ Then there's a very intelligent looking boy in alto who seem to need to put in a word for everything we say, like it was necessary to make sure we hear his opinions more than it was for him to hear us... "Aiyah 'cher, why not you sing for us?" "Why? But why should we do that?" "Huuhhhh..." Exasperating, but he's still charming in his way. I was secretly relieved, though, when he was out next door with the rest of the altos for sectionals. Wouldn't know how to answer his million questions throughout the entire practice. =P

There were a couple more rather likeable girls, the kind of kids you know are listening to you when you're teaching, those that respond when you ask a question and nod when they understand... Another boy full of questions from Sop, and his fellow group of chatty boys who'll pipe up and ask us to repeat a segment they didn't get, or request the bar number we were at, which was quite a relief because we know they were following the score, noisy as they were. I had a sneaking suspiscion that those little boys had greater command of the rest of the sops and mezzos than me or Gek ever did =\ Amid "Sop ones, keep quiet, we're trying to teach the sop twos... okay, *sings* k-k-ka-cim-bo... now this one is different from the next phrase, which goes up and not down, and... Sop ones! can you keep the volume down?" "huh? teeeeacher, can sing again or not?" "yes, ok ok...*repeats melody line twice* sop twos, are you listening? do you know where we are now? *head shaking* okok, we start at the top of page two... here... here, ok? can we start again?" and it repeats, amid "no lar 'cher, actually it's the sop twos making the noise lar, we are very quiet already.../ OI! WE NEVER OKAY! IT'S YOU WHO..." "Listen, people.. HELLO? EVERYONE? WE ARE GOING TO DO THE SONG FROM TOP OF PAGE TWO AGAIN, DO YOU HEAR ME?" "Teeacher! He also not listening! See?" And poor Gek needs to bellow at them for silence again.

Which doesn't always work, by the way... which is why I said that the little group of attentive-but-talkative boys probably have more control than we did. Or perhaps it was merely because they can shout louder than everyone else -_- After a particularly noisy stretch when we tried to pipe them down, one of the boys helpfully went "Hey!! Teeecher said SHHUUUDDDUPP!!" His yell managed to sit on top of the chatter, which subsided somewhat, and he looked up and beamed hugely at us. It took a bit of effot not to grin back.

We managed to cover about 5/7 of Wind Song. Phe-ew. It's a bit scary to hear chords coming out of a unison portion, though, and weird clashes coming out from nice chords, until we decided to concentrate more on sectionals and leave the blending bits till later. We covered a bit more that way... We even went past the tricky high part, during which the sop ones were staring at us in a mixture of confusion and slight disbelief, so we demo-ed the series of high F# G F# D F# G....... at least three times. Believe me, yelling is decent warm-up for your voice, I had no problems going through that line over and over after raising my voice above theirs "Listen, everyone, do you want to go home or not?!?" (that ONE line that always captures full attention and ensures a perfect chorus of YES!es) a number of times, even though my voice dieded somewhere during Dean's Welcome Tea earlier in the morning. It did help that Gek Tiang was quite the seasoned SL, and pretty fierce when she decides to be, too. Woah, don't play-play with our formidable young lady ;)

It's not so bad, really, amid their general rowdiness and restlessness (WHAT exactly is so appealing about visiting the toilet, hmm? I went after prac, and decided that the toilet isn't really so fascinating, what). They are really quite adorable. Talkative Boy in Sop One came during break and held a long discussion about my laptop and the one his dad owns, how come I bought a laptop with such a small screen, whether I got it free from the school, why macintosh is better, how heavy his dad's laptop was... Quite the professional, that one, and he talks really well, too. Little Girl Who Gave Directions came and sat with us at the piano and tinkled with it, as did Chatty Alto from Next Door, who learnt to play a new song but forgot, and got Gek Tiang to play for her instead.

I think we sang as much to them as they did to us. Gee. Gek and I were demonstrating practically every single line of How It's Supposed To Sound Like, but they gave us a skeptical look, and went on cheerily in the general area of where the notes should be, going VERY LOUD in the parts they knew and liked, and then going all whispery at those they didn't. Oh well.

I hope, when we come next week, they will still remember all 75 bars, or I will burst into tears and ask Loud Boy from Sop One to teach instead =P Eileen returned with the altos promptly at 430 and we were free to go thereafter, and taking that last glimpse of the teacher-in-charge surrounded by the entire bunch of little kids who never seem to stop talking, I couldn't help but feel a tingle of admiration for her. Wow. Like that leh, everyday. So lihai. But then again, at the sudden silence the moment we shut the music room door and made our way downstairs, I decided that it wasn't that terrifying, after all. Nah, I don't think I'll teach in a primary school, if I do go into teaching, but they were lovely kids all the same, and it was enjoyable working with them, and with Gek Tiang, too. One more practice to go, and we won't get to see them anymore =\ Awww. I hope they'd remember us, though, brief as our time was together. I certainly won't forget them in a hurry =)

[PS. Because sometimes I post so many entries at one go, and because tagboard is down, I would kinda prefer it if you guys leave comments from the Leave-a-Ripple! link instead, if you wanna say something related to the entry =) Tagboard can only take that many comments each time, and the early ones wouldn't be archived anymore, which is quite sad... Though I find it otherwise a rather useful shout-out function for very brief messages ^_^]

More Pictures

This would make a great publicity poster if blown up to A4-size.

"Resonance. Where your future lies."
(Complete with Esplanade passes containing your name and the word "Artiste" under it!)

=P Anyhow, it was a great performance ^_^ Congrats! Yay~ Looking forward to hearing more from you all!










Pre-Dean's Welcome Tea performance...

*pause, then frowns*

Oi, Derek! What's that supposed to mean?

On Writing...

On Writing...

*hesitates* Still screwing things up, I see, even though it might not be directly related to me, but...

Am I being very silly, when I feel like apologising for things that I cannot control, because I have not forseen it in the first place? Darn it, and I've always been so ready to hop into the happy-warm-fuzzy-feeling of every little thing I come across, and end up being blissfully unaware that... that... well, that things might not be just as peachy for everyone else. I'm sorry =/

Well. Like that helps matters any. But I'm still sorry. For what I cannot do, for... *ponders* But what? what could we have done to make it work out better, so that it'll be better for you?

Just going on various trains of thought now, attempting to tie the related threads together. But I don't know how to react, yet. Just... slightly uneasy.

And then I break my train of thought with another link to another friend's blog. It seems so very voyeuristic, browsing random entries backwards in curiosity, but then... *shrugs* I don't know what I am looking for when I browse blogs, really, besides general catching-up, and their opinions on random events, and well, their perspective on stuff... it's fascinating in a way, how different people are, in-your-face and in writing. So which do you believe?

And as so many people are, there is so much of the wistfulness, a longing for whatever is not yet within your reach. Does no one write happy blogs anymore, or do 'happy-bouncy people' in "real life" use the blog mostly as an outlet for their quieter, sadder sides? *pause* Do I do that, too? *frowns* But not really, right...

I guess it's a principle I hold, to sit out angry, moody times and keep them out of my writing unless there's something to learn from them, or if I really needed the catharsis and to externalise the bad feelings (which, HAH, goes into elsewhere that you don't get to see), or if I could end the entry on a hopeful note, with a possible resolution tagged right at the end.

I am a crazy idealist, a hopeless optimist. Have you figured that out yet? =) Nah, Doesn't mean I don't have my bad days, it just means that I refuse to dwell on them. Have a good cry once in a blue moon, shove it to the ends of your subconscious and let it ebb off eventually. I don't know how everyone else survives, though, but judging from depressing entries all 'round... I guess the blogging is pretty good catharsis, huh? (don't need to guess if I'm pinpointing any one person, because my blog favourites' list extends from the top of the screen right down to the bottom, and needs to be scrolled, so even if it applies, you're just one of so many...)

I used to wonder, a long time ago when I owned an online diary before the blogging craze descended, what it would be like if everyone else has an online chronicle of their thoughts and feelings, so that you get a little peek into what they're really like. Yet now with this blogging phenomena it's just... madness. So almost everyone now has got a blog. And even if some blogs make for fascinating reading, I get shaken by the fact that if you access one's blog, you also get access to the person's innermost thoughts and feelings, insecurities and flaws... even if you don't really know the person well at all. It's not an understanding that comes with time, but an instant preview laid out for (unintentional) judgement, is it not? Like, you don't say, "Hi. My name is Tom and my relationship status is currently very ambiguous, and I am actually a darned self-conscious person with a lot of insecurities, and sometimes I feel like a pathetic creep and I'm easily manipulated by guilt, but if you know me on surface level I'm a cool and funky person to be with, really." but it's all freaking outlined in the blog, within any few random entries of angst. So that cheerful girl that you met at orientation and the charming guy you saw at a party is every bit as insecure and self-conscious as you are, and isn't really as glammed up as you thought they should be, after pages-ful of tearful, self-deprecating entries cursing the world they live in.

It's unnerving. I mean, it's good to know that everyone's not perfect and that everyone has their own personal problems to overcome, their own demons to face, and well, we always have things to learn from one another, and yes, of course you have every right to vent and rage and wail in your blog, but still... sometimes it's a bit of an info overload on the readers' part. So, if any time in my writing I have upset you with melancholic thoughts and deep dark questions of life-and-death and made you worry for me and have you believe that I'm a fragile instrument that's easily shattered, then let me just reassure you... it isn't really so bad, I'm alive and kicking, and have never contemplated suicide. (As a sidenote, though, I never really ventured too far into that idea, because I always thought that if you kill yourself, then you kill a small part of every single person who loves you, and... *shudder* I cannot afford to hurt them so badly...)

Darker posts are often just a small reminder that Charm isn't merely a cute-sweet-fluffy-blur-little-girl... there were moments in the past when I have this annoying, nagging feeling that people treat me like a furry little stuffed toy to be patted on the head and handled with care, when they preserve a consistantly happy image before my eyes and then go weep in some little corner. Hello? I look like I cannot take bad news, is it? Yet it is inevitable that people react so... Is it not easier to just slot people into stereotypes: "the cute, innocent, guai one", "the macho, can-handle-anything one", "the bimbo, giggly one", "the boring chao mugger" and just treat them accordingly, without having to worry about their multi-dimensional personalities?

Eh okay lar I'm done with talking serious stuff. It exhausts me. Too much of an effort, lar. Goodness knows, it'll be nice to be a little silly and bimbo and cute and skip around the marigold fields with a flower in your hair and the sun on your face without a care in the world, if that image does not induce a slightly nauseous sensation in the more mature portion of readers, or in myself, for that matter. Heh. Come on, write a silly happy entry, if only for you to read back and roll your eyes at how impossible you are. It's good to have something lighter to look back at now and then.

Captured in a pic...

Whoa. This is scary lar. We look so alike, I cannot even pretend that we're not related ;)

Yep. That's me and my brother, if you cannot already tell. It's so amusing that we should look so alike when our defining characteristics are miles apart... Nope, this isn't photo-shopped, in case you're wondering... it's just a rather funky feature of the digicam that allows us to take half a picture at a time. The half-a-face-thing was obviously his idea, and he demands that I post it up on my blog, so that out of all the boring stuff in there, he gets to see something interesting. *rolls eyes* Yah, okay, fine. =P

I love rainy days. The smell of the wind and the spray of cool water... It's like giving the world a nice cold shower, washing away dirt and grime and irksome nagging little matters that threatens to stick to you on hot, sweltering days... Even the grass and the plants look appreciably greener, and the fishes swim in quick rounds, re-energised... Possibly, always, a refreshing start thereafter =)

Progression =)

*laughs* Was organising my Reso files a couple of minutes ago, and happened to turn on a recording of one of our pracs for Munchie Monkey in sem one. Didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but we sounded really... *pause* how do I put it? Cringe-worthy? It's just so incredibly funny and horrific at the same time, how we are sounded off-key and un-blendy and wonky... Cheryl sounds comfortingly decent though, and Tim's not bad, too, thank goodness. I sound like... like... *shudders* Never mind. I think My Girl is the most redeeming song of them all. Shall mention to the comm to add that into the new batch's repertoire so that there is something for them to look back at with relief ;)

Realised that Amanda's right... we have progressed since then. Fire sounds a LOT different now, even though it's been done to death for nearly all the gigs the Do-re-mis have taken... *pause* No, wait. We HAVE done Fire for every single junior gig. Goodness.

On a brighter note, though (no pun intended) we do sound better =) Last prac at Tim's house for Dean's Welcome Tea (Chocky is such an adorable little dog, and a very appreciative audience =P) Fire and Boardwalk sounded delightful =) *hops with glee* We're not super-zai-totally-fantastic better lar, but at least more secure, more grounded, more blendy. I realised that for a long time I was too busy fretting about what's not right yet to realise the little subtle shifts towards a more seasoned manner of singing, still thinking there's a humongously long way to go to get to where our seniors are now--which is still true lar-- but, BUT! there is an improvement, and I'm glad =) Someday we'll get there. We'll just have to continue prac-ing. Yay! After we manage to perfect If I Ain't Got You and Techno, we learn new songs, ok? And can someone please teach me how to transit smoothly from normal voice to head tone so that I can do my high notes nicely? Or maybe I should go bug our new Best Soloist for tips, hor ;)

Looking forward to the next prac. If only this frigging flu/cough/sore throat would just make itself scarce asap. It's exasperating being sick, and this is really one time too many for the year. I remember times when I wouldn't even fall sick at all for a stretch of a couple of years. Jeez.

Anyhow, keep your blogs alive, peeps, keep updating =) Am bored to death here. Probably time to re-pack my room to keep myself gainfully employed... *shrugs* Till the next time!

NAC 05

Tonight just reaffirmed the reason why I stuck with singing so long. It's infectious... even when I'm not singing, I feel the tingling exhilaration and the resonating happy-vibes from a song well-performed. It's inexplicable. You just feel the effort and the pride and... the feel of feeling, if that were to make any sense, that comes rolling off in waves from a delightful song, and you stand captivated, listening, watching, wondering. And then when the performance is over you feel like hugging everyone. It's a at-that-moment-in-time kinda feeling. I felt like that when I last watched Consonance pull off a delightful concert in June, and again tonight watching Reso and VnH at the National A Cappella Championships =)

Of course, as usual, I let my excitement sweep me away. Maybe there was really no need to take 55 pictures and three one-minute videos in a span of six songs. That robbed me of half my attention, and I kinda regret not looking up at the 'live' performance (as opposed to the camera screen) and listening more. But I digress... let's get to the point ;)

A big big big CONGRATULATIONS to Verve Enharmonics and Resonance for bagging the first and second prize for National Acappella Championships 05. YAY! And to Audrey for the best soloist prize, too! Am full of warm-fuzzy-feelings stemming from a post-performance fervour, which is still manageable because I'm not part of the performance tonight, but still tangible because I am still part of the group, and get to dabble a little in their joyful tidings, and hop around offerring congratulations to the deserving winners. I did enjoy the show tonight, surrounded by familiar faces onstage and off, all fellow Resonators having a good time =) I met Gill and Angie and Marianne and saw Crystal and Ade as well, too~ a sudden bunch of reminders of how so many of my friends are linked to me, directly or not, through singing. *hugs all fellow singers on impulse*

*pause* What can I say? I'm just very, very glad for them, for us. ^_^ And yes, after I upload and organise the photos *weeps at the sheer number* I will post them up in imagestation. Meanwhile, though, I'll leave you with three nice ones =)