Birds of A Feather

So I woke up one fine morning in my hotel room, with my hair wrapped around half of my face and my eyes all swollen from crying late at night (feeling for fictional characters'll do that to you). As I padded groggily to the powder room to splash cold water on my face, a snippet of conversation flew to my ears. Stupid me had fallen asleep with the television blaring away. I was going to ignore it and close the door, but then I heard a familiar name - Jamie Lynn Spears.

"Must be some Britney thing." I mumbled to myself. Then suddenly, my brother flew in. 'omg have you seen the news?! britney's sister is pregnant! you know, jamie something spears!' He grinned as he saw my mouth fall open. 'you haven't! but the tv's turned to cnn. wait, did you fall asleep with the tv on again?! i'm telling!' I ignored him and turned to the television, but as luck would have had it, I'd missed it. 'You're lying.' I informed him. "JLS doesn't have a boyfriend. She said so during Thanksgiving.' 'i know what i heard, sis. she's pregnant." I brushed him off and left to wash my face.

Later that day, I spat out a mouthful of tea in a cafe, nearly spraying an old man and his French toast, because there was a huge article in the papers about JLS and her 'mistake'. "Twas true! She's pregnant!" I yelled, amidst angry glares and whispers. 'i told you so,' my annoying brother chanted. My parents were kind enough to announce their opinion to everyone listening. 'kids these days. always getting into some sort of trouble.' 'why when i was a kid...'

Then everyone at the table got into a discussion on pre-marital and teenage sex. Which made for a very uncomfortable brunch because all the adults would keep hmming and nodding at me, as if I was going to give birth at any minute.

However, the breaking point was when a horse-like lady brayed angrily that teenagers were getting too much freedom nowadays and whinnied embarrassing questions at me. 'and how about you?! have you done it?!' I shook my head, then grinned sweetly at her. "How about you?" My brother and I then proceeded to cackle like hyenas at her purple face. Of course, our parents were less than amused and gave us a good scolding later, but I think it was worth it.

BB called me up later and we talked about JLS amongst other things for a while, and she asked me if we were the last teenagers on earth who'd not had sex. Now this stunned me because I'd never thought of that, so we spent a good bit of time discussing other friends and their 'chastity'. And this leads me to the question.

Are there really so few people who'll only have sex after marriage?

Bleh, this subject gives me a headache so lets move on.

So the shopping here is excellent but terribly expensive. And I wandered around malls trying to pretend that I had money, because everyone here is super rich and all. Which really doesn't work when you're a 17 year old dressed in MNG and Zara while they're adults in Gucci and Miu Miu. I swear on chainsaws that the security guards eyed me suspiciously the whole day. Mainly because I was drooling over bags outside Chanel, and had my face pressed against the display window for about half an hour. ChanelILoveYou!

Since it was so close to Christmas and everything, loads of people were doing their last minute shopping. And two days ago was a holiday, so the malls were just packed full of mad mad shoppers running for the nearest stores. And OMG they were lining up outside of Louis Vuitton because too many people wanted in at the same time. Can you imagine? And a nice saleslady told me that they were running out of stock because people wouldn't stop buying stuff. I felt so poor and alone, I must admit, because everyone that day was holding a designer carrier bag and I was the sole person carrying a plastic bag from a bookstore. With only a pen inside. Can you imagine?!

Then my dad's friends decided to go to some posh restaurant for dinner and it was awful. It was really cold and I'd forgotten to bring a cardigan, and when I sat down on the icy hard chairs, my behind froze instantly. The menu was a carnivore's dream, but I'm a vegetarian. Then, when I asked if the garden salad was safe to eat, the maitre'd eyeballed me like I was a piece of fungus, then replied coldly that the sauce had anchovies and did I consider them to be meat? Yes, yes I did. And I told him that, so he sniffled and said that he could ask them to whip something up, but his expression told me that he'd like to whip me instead. Fearing that he'd tell the chef to spit in my soup or something, I declined. When he wasn't looking, I whispered my order to my mother, and minutes later, dug into a humongous banana split, much to the disdain of the others. 'why on earth are you having dessert first? oh, no meatless dishes? such a picky child.' I ignored them and happily enjoyed my ice-cream, which was really good.

It's also been raining a lot here, and I've taken to carrying an umbrella around (pink with butterflies!) because the first day I went out, I came back looking like a drowned rat. My shoes have been utterly worn out because I walk a lot, so I tried searching for new ones. But predictably, I failed. The salesladies kept trying to force heels onto my feet, especially stilettos, their excuse being that my legs would look fantastic in them. That changed when I nearly took down one of them with me. Their flats were incredibly expensive and few, that I gave up after ten stores.

Pedro Garcia, why must you taunt me?

Ooh and the streets are filled with things to buy and see. I loved singing along with all the carolers, they even stood in the pouring rain. And loads of charities have lined up along the sidewalks with their little donation booths. Santas are walking everywhere, and it's very awesome to see little kids stare in awe when they pass by. I lovelovelove it at night when all the fairy lights and decorations are lit up, it's so gorgeous! There are plays and skits and sketches everywhere, loads of shows are put up every single night. And there are no repeats! Isn't that just fantastic? I mean, I love the fact that you can pop out for coffee and stand in line while watching them sing and dance on temporary stages, then catch another show outside your favourite doughnut store. And they've got little candy houses everywhere! Not gingerbread, but candy! I darted in and out of every single one I could find, much to the dismay of children everywhere. I think I spoiled their fun.

And oh my god Christmas trees are everywhere, and all the malls have gone insane and buried them under tons of ornaments and knick-knacks. So pretty! Everytime I pass one by, my fingers twitch madly, I want to steal a little angel or a shiny star so bad. Oh Santa, forgive me! But they're all so hard to resist, especially those with a fairytale theme. They put tiny wings on one tree and it looks like it could fly away at anytime! And I saw one with unicorns (Hachikuro says hi!) on it, kitschy, miniature and so tempting. If I ran the malls, I'd make sure security held hands and formed a protective circle around the trees.

There's a whole crowd of people milling about here, and I'm a bit afraid that one of them'll realize I'm typing out a blog entry, and not a school project as I've claimed. I wish I'd brought my own laptop on holiday, these hotel ones are so unfamiliar. I'll be going for dinner soon, so I think I'll end this one here.

Oh and Christmas is just round the corner so I hope everyone's got their trees up and their presents all sorted out. Bye loves, and enjoy the holiday season!


New American Classic

I'm going on vacation for a while and have no idea when I'll be back. My bags haven't been packed, and I'm leaving in two hours! Eek! But just in case I happen to miss the 25th, here's to a very Merry Christmas for everyone!

And a Happy New Year!

The poem in the previous post was for a creative writing class. I know I suck at poetry, but at least I'm not emo, right? I just thought that picture would look pretty with it.

And lest you think I was heartbroken or melancholic as I was composing it, then let me tell you this. I spun it out of thin air while nibbling at sugar icing cookies. You know, the ones with colourful dabs of icing sugar on them. My mommy and I split them two ways. Guess who got the sugar bits?

Bye loves!


Indefinite Revival of Post Heart Failure

don't give me your
sugar glass smiles
silent breaths
on the phone
in the middle of the night
sheets and unfinished sentences
is that all i was?
a cloud of dust that
blinded you for a moment
before you saw
the light


Oh Comely

This is all going to be jumbled up, so have fun sorting through the mess.

So a few of my friends called up to laugh about the last post, especially BB - "Remember Forever 21?! Where all the dresses had padded chests?! And when you came out of the dressing room in that blue one?! And the sales assistant laughed?! Because the pads just hung there?!" And my dear Biology teacher Miss S takes pleasure in repeating this story over and over again to anyone who's listening.

"Sometime ago, I was tutoring some boys from another school and this tall kid stands up and says, 'hey Miss S, are you from ....?' So I said yes and he says 'hey i was from there! how's everyone there? how's D? you know, the tall boobless one? tell her i said to grow some curves.' And we both laughed because it was so true!"

But let us move on.

V asked me why I consider myself to be the clumsiest person in the world. Oh, no reason really. Well, other than the fact that I fall over every five seconds or so.

(Sadly)True story below.

The other day, I went to Zara to look for a black skirt. While there, I spotted a pair of heels which I thought looked really good. Now keep in mind that I was wearing ballet flats, and I cannot cannot CANNOT walk in heels. So I have no idea what possessed me to walk over to those shoes and try them on. And by them, I mean the left shoe. Lo and behold, I put my foot down (the left one) and nearly tipped over, swearing loudly in the process. Everyone turned to look at me, and I abandoned my mission to run out of there, tripping again because I hadn't put my shoe back on properly. Yes, it is true. I cannot stand in heels, not even when it's just one.

In my defense, the shoes were 3 inch stilettos, and I'm pretty tall. My center of balance was raised and who am I kidding? I'm clumsy and useless. Every other girl in my class wore heels to Miss W's wedding, but I had to wear flats. That is the kind of person I am.

Am I doomed to a life of flat shoes and mocking glances?

But I am determined to learn how to walk in heels! My dream shoes have 4 inch heels (the irony) so before I get too old and fragile to wear them, I shall have to master the art. I just need a teacher.

Then there was the time I fell (more like slid) off my chair in school because I was laughing too much at my own joke (pathetic, I know). And the chair was about three and a half feet high so everyone rushed over to see if I was okay. They were afraid that I'd hit my head, because I was still giggling so hard that tears were coming out of my eyes while sitting on the floor. I continued laugh-crying for about ten minutes, so they just decided that I was okay, and left me snickering on the ground as they took down notes. The teacher ignored me. They're all used to my stupidity and uncoolness by now.

Trivia: When I fall, I usually end up seated in a lotus position. My legs just fold under me, which further supports that orthowoman's opinion (see last post) that my ankles twist in place, or something like that.

And oh, ONTD reported yesterday that Robert Pattinson has been chosen to play the dashing teenage vampire Edward Cullen of Twilight fame (they hit 5000+ comments!). You may remember him as the ill-fated Cedric Diggory in HPGOF. Now I'm not a raging Edward fangirl, though I'll admit blushingly that I liked the book, so the whole casting doesn't really bother me. But come on. Bella and Edward should at least be believable. Whatever. I just hope that they don't screw Alice up. She was my favourite character. Oh God I can't believe I'm actually caring about this!

Speaking of screwed up, I turned on the television last night only to scream in horror after watching the final episode of ANTM. Saleisha?! A high fashion model? I'm sorry, but no. No. I so wanted Jenah to win. Chantal would've been the next best thing. But Tyra picked the girl who most resembled Dora the Explorer/a mushroom. Maybe I just don't understand high fashion, and Saleisha'll be landing Vogue covers left and right. And maybe I'll learn to wear 4 inch heels. No. Oh yeah, why does everyone call her Tootie?

And on a very random note, I was super excited to see that the lovely Emma had a new post. After reading it (genius, as always), I scrolled through her blog links and found me! Of course I squealed happily when I saw the link there! I've loved her blog since forever, but never linked it because I was afraid that I wasn't good enough to. But then I noticed that it was 'penguins and foxes love geese', which was my blog name a very long time ago. So what does that mean? Has Emma been reading my posts for months (I shouldn't flatter myself)? Or did she prefer my original name? So many questions!

Why are there so many brackets in this post?

By the way, I'm ditching my prom because so many losers are trying to make it into a "classy" event, complete with paint-on dresses and lingerie door gifts to wear on the dance floor and grinding in corners. It's going to be the hoochie girl event of the century, if they get their way. I know, I'm such a rebel. But I can't help wondering though - will I regret this someday?


If I Could Talk, I'd Tell You

Christmas is still in the air! I've just spotted two boys beating each other up with balloon swords in Toys"R"Us over a robot transformer like action figure. And the doll aisle is packed full of little girls jostling for a look at (my nemesis!) Island Barbie. Brilliant.

So, I'm back from a small pre-Christmas shopping spree. Did you know that with me around, people say the stupidest things sometimes?

D is me.

Socks salesgirl: Enjoy walking in your socks! It's good to walk!
D: Eh?

New saleslady at the bookstore (which I go to every week): Wow! Are you really going to buy all of this?
Other salesladies: Duh....

Saleslady at the shoe store: Oh dear, you don't fit this one either. It's the right length but your heel just won't fill the back out. Why are your feet so long? And so narrow? Like a witch!
Mom: How would you know what a witch's foot looks like?

Lady at the orthopedic shoe store: Get your feet checked, love?
D: How? What do you mean?
Lady: We test flexibility and bone structure.
D: Oh, okay. Thanks.
Lady: *fiddles with my foot* Oh, you have very delicate ankles. And feet.
D: *blushes* Thank you.
Lady: Oh, and they are very flexible. Ballet?
D: I used to.
Lady: Thought so. And look, your ankles can turn in place.
D: Eh?
Lady: Fall down often?
Dad: *smiles contently* Yes. Yes, she does.

Note on below: I never knew how rude salesladies could be until I turned 13. None of my friends believe me when I tell them all this, until they go shopping with me. Then, the fun begins.

This lady is probably the mall's PA system, that's how loud she was. While this was happening, my mother and brother were wetting themselves in a corner. Thanks a lot you guys!

Demon in the form of a lingerie/underwear saleslady (DFLS): HELLO LITTLE GIRL!
D: Umm... hi.
D: Yeah. I'd umm, I'd like to buy a *mumbles* bra.
DFLS: SPEAK UP! WOULD YOU LIKE A *amplified ten times* BRA?!
D: Yes, I would. A T-shirt bra, to be specific. Could you...
D: What?
D: .....
D: 17.
D: Listen lady, I just need a bra.
D: Hilarious. I think I'll go look for one by myself. Just carry on doing what you were doing.
D: No, I know my size! Don't!
DFLS: *without taking out measuring tape* AN A CUP! *whips out tape*
D: *backs off slowly* I know my size!
DFLS: *lassos me in* 34A!!! OH DEAR ME!
D: Well at least I'm not completely flat.
D: *looks at DFLS's massive chest, which is threatening to explode out of her shirt* Yours is flooding. Goodbye.

Another gem.

Troll in the form of saleslady at some high-end clothing boutique (TSCB): And where are you going with this dress?
D: A dinner.
TSCB: Yes, yes. A cocktail dress then. You'd be a size... Here!
D: Let me try it on.
TSCB: Sure, sure. Take your time.

Moments later.

D: It's too short. I mean, if I bend over, I'll flash everyone.
TSCB: But won't you be sitting all the time?
D: That's not the point. I want a dress I can be comfortable in. Don't you have one that's a little bit longer?
TSCB: *huffily* You're too tall.
D: Sorry?
TSCB: I wish you weren't so picky. I got this dress for you because it seemed like the only one that wouldn't sag at your chest and leave it exposed. If you had boobs, we could go a few sizes up. Then your dress would be longer.
D: Umm... sure. I'm leaving.

There must be something about me that makes people want to voice out their cruelest opinions. I should get this patented. I should get this recorded. I should sue.


Crystal Tears Joy Electric

Holidays are the best time of year, don't you think? I mean, I love the whole Christmassy buzz as mall employees decked out in elf outfits run around stringing fairy lights from one end to the other and stores blare Christmas faves in a desperate attempt to feign cheerfulness and people fight each other to the death at the bargain bin.

Ok, so that last bit's not that lovable but come on, Christmas is in the air! And so is every goddamn perfume known to man because god help me, there is no better gift for your man than a tiny overpriced bottle of quickly evaporating liquid. Three, count em, three salesgirls cooed at me from their gaudily decorated counters "come love come love buy for your love!" and frantically brandished strips of perfume samples in my face.

You got me. This post is not to trumpet the goodness of Christmas, lovely as it may be, but to bitch merrily about the rubbish I have to put up with when the holidays roll around.

I've mentioned once that I love Christmas carols, and will willingly go caroling when asked, especially if there's the lure of hot cocoa and a token of appreciation at the end of the session. Hark the Herald Angels Sing is a favourite, and I hummed along when I heard it at the mall. Until...

Some douche decided that "oh gee it looks like everyone in the store is enjoying it. because it's at a normal volume, so they can listen to it without being irritated. can't have that now, can we? i want a lump of coal in my stocking this year. let's turn it up a bit, shall we? and by a bit i mean until people start to leave because their eardrums are threatening to jump out of their heads."

And to top this all off, the mall was organizing some stupid holiday promotion of their latest pride and joy - Barbie, Island Princess. Now I could be wrong, but when I hear the word island, the first words that come to mind are hot, tropical, beach, sand, salt water, relaxation, happy. Not loud obnoxious children screaming singing (use this term very loosely, please) unholy music crushed to death pain horror horror horror save me jesus!

The mall had been taken over by tiny girls decked out in ballgowns (with bustles)! And I was in the middle of it all! That read like the exciting beginning of a novel, didn't it? But I digress.

Thanks to the ingenious organizers of the event and overzealous mothers (complete with demon spawn), I had entered hell. Sickeningly happy music exploded from speakers everywhere, competing with and triumphing over the festive sound of Christmas bells. Cut-outs of the blond thing were everywhere, and of course, I walked into every single one in an attempt to escape.

As if that weren't enough, the fantastic people behind this had set up a huge screen and were playing snippets of the movie. One little girl stared at me with big wide eyes, then at the screen, then at me again. "i love barbie!!! she's sooo pretty!!!" was gushed with a threatening glance, she dared me to say something mean. I quickly nodded and tried to push my way through the crowd, but to no avail. Then suddenly.


Instinctively, my survival instincts kicked in and my hands protectively shielded my ears from great harm. The tiny one beside me stood gaping in wonder as one of the aforementioned spawn bared her tonsils for all to see. Aided by a superb surround sound system, she delivered a glass breaking solo of a Barbie song. The crowd of zombies swayed slightly to the rhythm, then stopped when they realized that there wasn't one.

And me? I crouched down slightly, hoping to avoid going deaf before attending at least one Stars concert in my lifetime. Children all around me frowned angrily - I was destroying the sanctity of their childhood idol. Barbie would not stand for this, and neither would they. Slowly, the crowd parted, and feeling like Moses, I sprinted through to the safety of an unBarbie world.

Watching from a safe distance, I saw the true meaning of Christmas. Teenagers and adults alike covering their ears and speeding past the display. Some leaned against walls to laugh and mock the poor child who would regret this moment in three years or so. Proud parents and bewitched kiddies beaming from the audience. The poor host standing beside the speakers, who had beads of sweat on his forehead. Brave man.

But most of all, the expressions on the faces of everyone surrounding me when the host took up his mike again. The reaction to the words coming out of his mouth.

"Let us thank our first contestant for that wonderful performance. Now, let us move on to our second princess who will be singing..."

We put Olympic runners to shame.


Red Right Ankle

I am a princess, and you are a pirate. Why? Just because I can. And I am. And you are. And we all are.


Lalalalalala..... (oh no not again!)

Finally, my exams are over. My brain is going to undergo reverse osmosis or diffusion and get rid of all the pointless crap I've been studying for the past years like why dy/dx is always 0 at the turning point of the curve or why Newton does not have a fourth law or why soluble salts can produce insoluble salts and aaaaaanybloodything I want to forget.

It's good to forget sometimes. There's a whole shelf filled with books just calling my name. My tabs are filled with bookmarked eBay finds. And I've heard there's a sale tomorrow full of good happy things for me. These are things I want to remember.

Thank you everyone who has been with me so far. It was hard letting go of some of you, knowing that I'd probably not see you again for a long time. Watching you take those final steps away from the years we shared together. I lovelovelove you all so much! And yes, as S said, always remember. I will, I promise.

It was a great journey, but I'm glad I've finally reached the end of this road. The next adventure is just around the corner, but I think I'll take a slower pace for a while until I catch my breath again. Have a great holiday and Merry Christmas in advance loves!!! from Hachikuro and I.


Rainy Days Never Stay!

Things are going from bad to worse.

I've purposely disobeyed myself and read three (okay, maybe 7) of the novels I'd so painfully set aside for myself. Actually, I'd gone one step further and hidden them away somewhere so I wouldn't find them. And if you're wondering, 'hmm is that possible? i mean, she hid them herself, right? so wouldn't she be able to remember where they are?' then you don't know me at all! I lose things that I was holding three seconds ago. Which is why my room is a treasure chest of random things! Seriously, the other day I discovered a purple heart necklace. From Canada. From when I was 7. Or 8, I cannot remember. The best part? After dissecting it to obtain beads for my next experiment, I lost them. And my three black heart pendants! And my pink watch! And my moisturiser! Lord, help me.

Oh but the point of this post was to convey to you how horrible I am at maintaining order and discipline in my life. As you may or may not know, I am currently sitting for my finals of finals, and should therefore be studying my heart out. But I am D, and so I have embarked on a personal mission - to fail my exams. Are you laughing at me? I'll show you!

Exhibit A

D is often seen perusing magazines and books which were strictly to be read only after the exams, and abandoning her textbooks under her bed.

Exhibit B

D wakes up just in time to get ready and head to school. She sleeps in the car, and during the papers as well.

Exhibit C

D sleeps early on exam days, usually with her textbook in one hand and a pink highlighter in the other. Do not be fooled into thinking that her comatose nature is due to an overdose of studying. There is usually a laptop in front of her, with the words eBay prominently displayed on it.

Exhibit D

After a day of exams, D usually heads to the nearby mall to get her fix of iced chocolate and pastries. Though many sane students know that too much sugar or salt is not good for your body during exams, D chooses to ignore this information and shovels junk food into her body at regular intervals.

Exhibit E

D enjoys torturing herself, and eats spicy food designed to melt the toughest of stomach walls, though she herself is unable to stand even the slightest hint of pepper. Yes, pepper is considered by D to be spicy. Yet she tries every bit of spicy food she can get during the exams, and once woke up with the intense urge to throw up, which lasted throughout her papers on that day. Also, she ran to the toilet every 15 minutes or so.

Exhibit F

D forgot to set her alarm clock 9 times out of 10, and had to rely on her super waking up on time skills, which sadly, didn't work 10 times out of 9. So, it was super Mommy to the rescue, and D learned to awaken to frantic pounding on the door and angry shouts streaming through the crack under it.

Exhibit G

Hachikuro, D's alleged study mascot, has been seen making beaded necklaces and bracelets with her numerous times. The two also enjoy surfing the web together, staring out of the window at absolutely nothing, and falling asleep after a good Agatha Christie movie (And Then There Were None!). The two have developed a new found obsession for ANTM (Hachikuro roots for Jenah, D for Chantal) and Project Runway Canada (both like Biddell and MG, but hate Iman and Shernett). D is even attempting to teach Hachikuro to play the piano. Lately, D and Hachikuro have been searching eBay for another stuffed unicorn, so they can have tea parties.

Exhibit H

Has D not been posting even more often on her blog? Doesn't she usually have four or five posts a month? But lately, the number of entries has grown in size. In fact, what is she doing now?

And if I happen to, I don't know, fail all my papers, then please direct me back to this post to show me why I am such a useless waste of space so that we can all get on with our lives.

Back to procrastinating!

On a completely irrelevant side note, I love all the heart shapes in the previous post. And the sidebar. I know, self-praise is no praise, but come on. I'm D, so what'd you expect? Restraint? Get out of this blog, please.


My Pink Batman


My mommy bought me a unicorn today.
She's (yes it's a girl do you have a problem with that?!) pink and white and sparkly.
I am in love right now.
Even my parents think she's cute.
Haha she's gonna be my study mascot.
Thank you my lovely parents!

I'm still trying to think of a name for her.

June Gloom?
Raspberry Rush?
Cream Soda?
Bubble Toes?

Update: Her name is Hachikuro.
After Hachimitsu no Kuroba my true love.


Herstory of Glory

So today was a good day because our exams finished early. And by our, I mean mine. Let me explain.

We're allowed to leave the exam hall early, like 25 minutes after the paper starts. Obviously once you leave, you can't return, right? So before the exam, which was an English paper, W and I made a little bet. We'd heard the paper would be much harder than usual, so just to torture me, he said that I'd never be able to complete the paper in my usual time - 20 minutes. I shot back that I would, and I'd leave as soon as they let me. He laughed and the deal was sealed.

Just to raise the stakes, I called my dad and told him to pick me up early. Like forty five minutes early, since the exam would last for an hour and fifteen minutes. Now, I could not afford to lose.

And it was on.

We went in, him grinning and me furiously clutching my pencil while suppressing the urge to flip him the bird in front of everyone. A pat on the back, and we headed for our seats. The minute I got the paper, I quickly flipped to the first question. Read it carefully and thoroughly, then answered. Until I had finished everything. Went over the paper twice more. And one last time, just to be on the safe side. Stared up at the huge clock on the wall, and I smiled in triumph.

Fifteen minutes. God, how I love multiple choice.

And for the next ten minutes I leisurely checked my paper, biding my time until the big hand swung to the 6. Sneaked a glance at W, who was furiously clutching his head between both hands. Any time now. Ding! The invigilator nodded in approval at my paper, and gestured to the door. I swept the hall with one glance. First one to leave. Picked up my stationery and sauntered to the doors nonchalantly, but not before turning to shoot a smirk at W, whose mouth was hanging open. Surreptitiously, I crooked my fingers into a crude gun shape and aimed them at him. Mouthed the words.

"Bang... you lose."

I walked out into the sunlight.


This Strange Effect

I love the fact that, even two hours after you cracked an inside joke, I was still laughing about it. In the centre of the exam hall, surrounded by cranky invigilators and panicking students. Facing the papers of our life. Everyone staring at the one girl who found it all so amusing.

And I could only laugh even more.

Painted skies
I've seen so many that cannot compare
To your ocean eyes
The pictures you took
That cover your room
And it was just like the sun
But more like the moon
A light that can reach it all
So now I'm branded for taking the fall

So when you say forever
Can't you see you've already captured me?

In the middle of all this confusion, you shine brighter.


The Dancer's Lament

Bought out a whole book sale (almost...), had the best Indian food ever and now there's a tub of strawberry ice-cream calling my name from the freezer. I'm very happy because I've been stockpiling up on novels and such so after the exams, I'm gonna lock myself up in my room and emerge victorious like after a week or so. Omigod I think I might have around 50 new books now joy joy joy joy!

I'm waiting till holidays to hit eBay again because there are so many nice outfits but it really makes me upset when the stuff I like doesn't come in my size! Like I'm around 5"9 and have kinda broad shoulders so that's gotta be taken into consideration. And I'm also weirdly built (bust is 31.5 inches, waist is 25-26 inches that sorta thing) so when I find something I like, three things usually happen.

It's too short. It's too big. It's too small (especially the goddamn shoulders). Argh the torture! I think I'm gonna go on some crash diet so that I can blame the fashion industry for an unhealthy obsession with my body. But is it wrong for me to wanna be taller?

And I'm ashamed to say that I only recently ventured into the world of online retail. For the life of me, I cannot seem to recall why on earth I was so against it in the beginning.

The most important exams are starting soon so I'd better get studying, I will see you all in 19 days!


The Longest Story

Blue-eyed sun shines on me
In the morning
Can't help but feel a little cold
Thinking of you

'Cause I see the light surrounding you
So don't be afraid of something new

It is always the tiny, completely random and selfless things that make me love you. Like laughing with me and not at me when I make stupid jokes that you never get, then cracking stupider ones of your own. Nodding your head as if you understood my endless chatter when in fact all you heard was static. Walking long distances beside me just so I wouldn't feel alone. Singing your own version of oldies just to cheer me up. Patiently guiding me when I needed help and never once calling me an idiot. Comforting me when I moaned and cried about so many stupid things. Sticking up for me in your own odd ways. Sternly telling me that I needed a man with muscles to protect me from the world (best quote ever) when I said how much I hate super buff men. Snapping at people when you felt that they'd done something to make me sad. Abandoning your studies and walking out of class just to sit down beside me as I attempted to organize the mess that was my locker. Carrying my bags for me in the rain all the way to my car even though they weighed a ton and you were already supposed to be leaving for home.

Thank you for having been a part of my life. We may not have been perfect together, but I think we turned out alright in the end. There is no nicer guy out there than you. I can't wait to see who you become, and I know you'll do fine in everything you do. I will never regret having met you.


I see you by the water
Your toes dipped in the sand
I thought that it was over
I thought you'd understand
But the feeling is returning
Though time has made us change
And I understand if you don't
Wanna talk to me about it tonight


D Un

It was inevitable, I guess, this change in me - so sudden and yet so gradual at the same time. That crept up on me so silently, yet set off so many alarms and warning bells in my head that I wonder how I missed all the signs. Was I pretending that nothing was happening? Did I put up walls of denial, so high and thick that even my deepest thoughts could not penetrate them?

Who have I become, this person so different and foreign to me? I look in the mirror sometimes and think, same eyes, hair, lips. But who are you? My brain is drowning in an endless ocean of self doubt and hesitation. I need an answer. Mary Mary Quite Contrary. How do you grow? Who do you grow into?

It was just the other day that I was mucking around in that grey shirt of mine that sags in the chest area, the one that everyone says I will never be able to fill out but I just laugh in response. When did I turn into the girl who stood in queues silently mocking people, cruelly laughing at their shortcomings when I myself am far from perfect. Who am I to judge these people?

Five years ago, I was 12, Howl's Moving Castle and Sarah Brightman melded together to create a cocoon of happiness that brought me to peace with the world as I sat on the cold wooden floor. The intense feeling of euphoria and serenity was overwhelming and for years to come I would remember that night and cry silently. At that moment I was truly content, how blessed I was to experience such pure unadulterated joy emanating from everything that surrounded me.

When did I become the person who demands more and more in exchange for the tiniest bit of kindness and love? Have I been bought out so easily, that I am willing to sacrifice all my feelings for things that I can only have on the outside, but cannot keep on the inside? When did I shed the skin that carried me through childhood for this teenage one, this rough and unfamiliar skin that flares up at every single barb or sting, no matter how small? Have I always been this sensitive that tears spill out of my eyes despite the insignificance of the matter?

Maybe I'm a snake, shedding layer after layer of skin without missing any of them. Poisonous fangs and the inability to feel anything for anyone other than myself now. But the only difference is there is no snake charmer around to dazzle me and put me back in my basket. I hiss and dart at everyone, no one understands. Not that I expect them to, I don't even understand myself at times and everything that I'm going through.

I try to hold it all together, but the seams have been strained far too much and threaten to explode. An hour ago, it did. I picked up a book, just an ordinary book with a black cover and red words decorating its face. I'd been meaning to save it to read as a gift to myself after the exams so I'd kept it tucked away somewhere safe. I just wanted to admire it and put it back but when I ran my fingers down it I knew something was wrong.

The light always reveals our flaws and why should that book have been any different? Two huge creases down the front and the cover had come apart in layers, just like my skin. That book was me and I was that book in that moment and I cried to see something I loved in such bad shape. Broke down even more when I stupidly yet optimistically tried to rid it of the creases with an eraser of all things and the heat turned to the highest level on my hairdryer. Yes I failed, in more ways than one.

I love my books, is that so hard to understand? Seeing creases in them is like seeing tears and cuts in my skin. Sure I have rescued secondhand books not in so good shape from bookstores because they needed love, and I have never judged them because of their looks. But know that when I buy new books that have never had a single blemish on them, I try so hard to preserve them in that state, turning their pages with a touch as soft as whispers on skin. Opening them just the slightest bit so their spine remains intact as I delve deeper and deeper into the story.

My brother speaks harshly. Throw her away. Useless help. Why do we even pay her? And I find myself agreeing, selfish as it may be. Could it be that I do indeed value my possessions over the feelings and the emotions of others? If so, why don't I feel the slightest bit guilty? I'd like to speak up in her defense, but my mouth remains shut. I am still angry over my book, after all.

Perhaps I am a cold hearted person, just like my skin that never seems to retain enough warmth to get me past the cold days in school, or maybe my icy insides freeze me from the inside out while making me think that it is not my fault. Deja vu, is that what it is now? The months that have passed sometimes seemed like a dream, something I conjured up in my imagination before experiencing it in real life. How funny but true, sort of like a trial or a test run before the actual thing. And I wondered how my life could be so repetitive, why I was doomed to repeat the past before the present had even begun.

She ruined my stuff too, he says. I nod sympathetically, I understand, I comfort while crying. The guitar case. The dent. Clumsy fool stupid idiot bloodybloodybloody. We are not like that, are we? Do we call people such names? Since when? Oh yeah, since just now. You have changed too, I try to tell him by sending mental messages. Why? Why did you?

I think that I am more potent that alcohol, just by myself I have killed too many of my brain cells to bear and filled millions more with information of no importance. Actually I heard that alcohol doesn't even kill your brain cells so I have proven how truly self-destructive I am. Who needs drugs and such when I have myself. Bitter. I have rotted myself to the core.

Life is funny like that, you learn something new even when you're holding that stuffed elephant your dad gave you when you were five and constantly clinging on to his knees so he had to carry you everywhere. Which leads me to conclude that there is no subject in the world that you can possibly know everything about, especially when you don't even know the number of moles you have on your arms and how your hair turns the colour of rust in the sun and how your smile quirks higher on the left than the right and how you are so different from who you used to be.

Once I think I had a blog entry, about snobby private school girls whose words rolled off their tongues as easily as their money out of their wallets. Silly frivolous females, I said. Silly. Frivolous. Not me. Not me at all. Oh god I wish I had bitten my tongue off that day. The words don't come out right anymore, just a few sentences. I want that. I need that. Can I get that? Filthy. I sometimes wish that I would choke on them, become allergic to them, develop a phobia of them or something. Anything. Silly. Frivolous. Words. My words.

Who's sorry now? Mr. Man in the Elevator asked me one day if I knew the words to the song. No, I told him, so he sang it for me. When I went back home, I googled the song. He was right. I don't know who sings it really, this Connie Francis or Dean Martin, but it didn't matter. Doesn't.

Who's sorry now
Who's sorry now
Whose heart is aching for breaking each vow
Who's sad and blue
Who's crying too
Just like I cried over you.

Right to the end
Just like a friend
I tried to warn you somehow
You had your way
Now you must pay
And I'm glad that you're sorry now.

Right to the end
Just like a friend
I tried to warn you somehow
You had your way
Now you must pay
I'm glad that you're sorry now.

So glad that you're sorry now...

Well Mr. Man in the Elevator, I do know this song now. I quite wish that you would bump into me one day and ask me again. Do you now? And I would sing it to you. And I would tell you, yes I am sorry. I am sorry now. But then again, I don't think I would. I don't like admitting that I am wrong, never have and I'm not going to change anytime soon.

I hate change.


Honey and Clover

I just had to...

A very happy 1st birthday, my most beloved blog!

As of now, you're 'the purple teddy that ate new york', but who knows what you'll be in the future. Maybe I'll go back to 'Wonder in Aliceland'.

When I first started blogging, I wondered if I would soon tire of it. Always having to think of things to write about, and the constant maintenance of something I'd never had before. I wondered if I would have any spare time to blog. I wondered if I would even make it past the first month.

But when I typed out my first post, it brought about a thrill in me. The joy of being able to let out all my thoughts and emotions onto this blank canvas. The wonder of getting to record every memory and knowing that I could see it in the future. It helped me be me.

I love that my blog doesn't judge me or offer opinions that are unnecessary. With my blog, I can be whoever I want to be. Bitching or whining too much? It's not complaining. Showing off a little too much? My blog won't mind. Ok, so sometimes I exaggerate stuff, but it's usually the real D that shines through in these posts.

So in a way, starsofglass.blogspot.com has become one of my best friends, and perhaps even family. Unlike many others, I shall try to be faithful to you and stay here for as long as I can.

The one thing that hasn't changed about this blog, is the person who I am writing it for. Me. I do not blog to please others, but to make myself happy. So forgive me if you dislike it intensely. This is my baby, in a sense, so I shall nurture and love it in my own special way.

D loves you very much!


Lost Wings

Though I've already cried so many tears over this, I will not get over it anytime soon. Trust me.

How would you feel, if you had worked hard the whole year, studied your heart out and achieved the best results in your whole form? Would you feel proud, knowing that all your effort had paid off? Would you feel happy to be at the top, better than the rest?

I don't feel a thing anymore.

It's tradition that the valedictorian is the best student in the form, even in our school. It is an honour to represent your class in the best possible manner, speaking for everyone who has worked so hard towards graduating with pride. It is a task that is both fulfilling and rewarding in so many ways. It is, no, was one of my dreams.

When I discovered that I had attained the highest grades in the form, I was thrilled. My parents were so proud that all the studying that I had done was worth it. I smiled so much after that, my cheeks hurt. I loved making them happy. Of course I did it for me too, but seeing my parents overjoyed was wonderful.

"Valedictorian then, right?" they asked. "I hope so." I replied. But everyone thought, and I hoped, that I would be. Maybe I even believed it for a while. However, life isn't predictable at all, is it?

N will be our valedictorian this year. N, whose only achievement is being the Head Prefect. Who isn't in the top fifteen in the form. Who isn't even in the class' top fifteen. Who quit swimming. Who missed loads of classes because she placed her duties above them. Who did not work as hard as I did. Who is one of my friends.

How should I feel?

One part of me says, be angry. Be furious that she stole away all your hard work and effort in one swipe. Be jealous that the headmistress has always favoured her above everyone. Be disappointed that you let your parents down. Be sad that what was supposed to be yours is unjustly hers.

But the other says to do the opposite. Be happy that she's gotten something she would have wanted. Be supportive because she's your good friend. Be thankful that she didn't rub it in your face. Be glad for her.

I don't know what I first felt when I heard. Not from her, but from V. And I was struck dumb. What can you do when something you treasured so deeply was taken away before you even had it?

I am not ashamed to say I cried. Call me self-centered or too sensitive or whatever you like. The fact is I deserved to be the valedictorian and should have been chosen. Even if it had gone to someone like V or W, who beat me out in some of the previous exams, I would have been happy.

The worst part was telling my parents about it, and trying to pretend that I didn't care. Trying not to cry in front of them. Seeing their faces, it was hard not to.

Yes, I am bitter. But she did not deserve this. It is only out of pity that she got it. Our 'beloved' principal felt guilty that she might have caused N to get such dismal results, hence the push. Whatever the reason, I don't care. I don't care anymore.

She asked me to help her with her speech. The speech I should be preparing for myself. Like I always have. Almost every bloody thing that she's ever written and been praised for, they've come from me! I haven't said anything yet. What I want to tell her is this.

Write it yourself. It's pretty obvious that they want you to be the one speaking, with your own words. If not, they would have chosen me instead. If I helped, it would be painful, because you'd be saying what I'd have wanted to say. Me! The person who actually got the marks and results that you didn't. And the person who didn't get the honour that you did. It will never be enough that you wanted it, because I worked for it. And for one instance, I thought I had it too. But obviously I wasn't deserving enough. So leave me alone.

The sad thing is, I know I will be the one who writes that speech. The one who plans everything out. The one who tells her what to say, even though I want to be the one saying it. It always has been that way.

And I know I will cry on that day. Not for the same reasons as the others. Not because I am touched. But because I will be listening to my words telling everyone how happy I am, when it really isn't me up there, reading out the feelings I don't have anymore.

The colour is gone.


Hostage Suite

Today has been an okay day, but I quite regret skipping school on Monday even though I really was too tired and sick to attend classes. So I tried to make up for it yesterday and today. It started out horrible though because I couldn't buckle my skirt (why does the hook always jam?!) and I sliced my finger open on a zip. I have thin skin so this is not uncommon for me. Oh and after school I went to the mall to get groceries. Keep in mind that this is a really posh mall with like bellhops(?) and people to greet you at the entrance and they even have people scattered inside to direct people to places and all (Like to escort people to the washroom and everything! Like in a hotel!)! Yeah I'm failing to describe it but trust me, there are no cheap stores or knock-off outlets there. Not even fast food restaurants because they would tarnish the high and upper-crust image there or something. I don't think it's even called a mall. It's just a bunch of overpriced shops and eateries located in one place.

So imagine this. I'm in my crumpled school blazer with my hair flying in every direction and my socks pulled up to different levels as I enter the lobby and everyone is looking at me thinking "This is the worst example of a private school kid ever." but the only thing on my mind was "Shall I get more tomato soup? How about yoghurt?". Yeah, I am shameless sometimes.

I got the stuff and ran up because I was late (this old lady took the longest time ever to sort everything out!) and my dad was waiting in the car. But he wasn't there! So I had to stand there cradling the plastic bag like some bag lady while the guards and posh looking people in power suits stared at me. The valets asked me if I needed help because I looked so lost, but I smiled and waved at them to show that I was fine. Haha. I think they felt sorry for me, and it was a huge relief to finally slide into the car when my dad arrived. The moral of the story is that D is a loser who doesn't know how to act in high-society.

Oh and today was better because we had our yoga classes in school so it was really fun to just let go of everything and N couldn't stop gawking because I can contort my body into the weirdest poses. Hahahaha I don't know why I'm so talented at rubbish like this. A asked me if I was interested in attending sessions after exams and I am wondering if I should.

Another thing that happened recently was being contacted by someone who I thought despised me. Well hmm... I wonder why the sudden change of heart. But I'm a nice person (hahahaha!) so I'll just be civil and kind to him. People do change, right?

Ok, so this should be my last post until December, unless something major happens (or I really can't stop myself from blogging). But I guess this is a good thing anyway because I'm suffering from writer's block and I need to study because the exams are near. Yes, I know I keep telling myself that but I'm stubborn that way.

And here is a message to me in case I happen to be wandering around the World Wide Web and not revising.



That is all. Have a great October and November, guys!



I am so happy!!!!!

I'm not going to count my eggs before they hatch but thank you thank you everyone who congratulated me and said i deserved it! You have no idea what this means to me!

Let's rewind back to the beginning, shall we?

I am sitting down and trying to cram logarithms into my head when our class teacher walks in with a sheet of paper in his hands. "Forecast results, everybody." He exits, the paper now in someone else's grasp. I swallow, feeling ready to throw up. These forecast results usually do end up being your final grades, you know.

People are shouting, some with glee, others with anger and disappointment. I still sit there, waiting for everyone to finish. How many A*'s did I get? How many A's did I achieve? Do I really want to know? What if I've done horribly? What then?

It is handed to me. Slowly, I scan the boxes for my name, and begin to mentally count the number of A's I see. A few moments later, I am almost in tears. N is reading over my shoulder. She sees what I have seen.

D - 10 A*'s and 2 A's

I want to cry right now. Thank you for believing in me. I will not let you down.

I am humbled.


On This Side

Two days ago, I woke up with a swollen eye. Now how did that happen, you may be asking. Were you lacking in sleep? Did you not get enough rest? Well, close but no banana. Since I'm already super talented in many things, why don't we add another "skill" to this list? The ability to sleep with half of your face on the pillow while the other half rests on the bed itself. If you don't understand what I'm trying to say, please go and attempt to place your head in such a position.

So basically, since I was literally sleeping on one eyeball, there was no reason for it not to be swollen. And I went to school looking like I cry with only one eye. Actually I didn't think it was that bad but N noticed it right away. Therefore, I ran to the washroom with a tube of aloe gel to bring down the swelling. N kept screaming stuff like "Don't touch your eye! It might get infected!" and "Stop doing that!" at me. The latter because I kept closing the swollen eye and pretending that I was winking at people.

Why am I so weird sometimes?

And today I spent the entire Physics period chatting about childhood cartoon shows with M. I'm justifying this because it was really boring. Like really boring. So we talked about cartoons like Johnny Quest and Speed Racer, and agreed that Speed might be gay. I never really got Cow & Chicken, to be honest. Maybe I wasn't a very smart kid, but I always used to wonder why they had two pairs of legs as parents.

Now, CSI is my number one TV show. Be it Las Vegas, Miami or New York. I like the whole idea of solving mysteries and piecing stuff together. I also have a fond spot for Midsomer Murders. Don't you ever wish that Chief Inspector Barnaby was your grandfather?!

I'll admit that a guilty pleasure of mine is (was) The Suite Life of Zack and Cody. And Blue's Clues. Which was, still is and always will be, to me, the best kids' program to exist. I mean, which other show has such catchy tunes, lovable host (and characters) as well as such an interesting storyline/plot. Okay, so it's not really a mystery but you still have to solve puzzles : finding out what Blue wants to do/be/eat/etc etc.

I can't recall the name, but there was one show involving this girl named Penelope Pitstop. Or was it Pittstop? I just remember that she was all decked out in pink, and had this bunch of short weird looking guys that were like her bodyguards or something. And they raced cars.

I'm really scared because I have no idea where I'll be going after I complete my final year. I'll be majoring in psychology and maybe philosophy/sociology/english literature.

I think I'll go get a drink or something.


Another Breakfast With You

Isn't this pretty?!

I changed my blog skin, in case you hadn't noticed. And and and I am so happy because I have my Physics forecast results, and it is an A*! Hahaha I have 11 straight A's. I've given up on Further Math. I expect a C. Maybe a B? Oh please oh please I'll try harder!

I won't be updating much cause I've got my finals in a month and I need to pull myself together to actually achieve satisfactory results. I'm struggling enough as it is. But I'll probably be back in December. Or perhaps a little earlier. If I'm really weak-willed (I am), I'll probably be updating for a while longer. It depends.

Listen to Moonchild (Mouse on Mars Mix) by Cibo Matto. I adore them! And this song.

See me fly!!!


If I Sing You Down

Come on Balthazar
I refuse to let you die
Come on fallen star
I refuse to let you die

I'm just very tired all the time, and it's not a very nice feeling. I'd just like the exams to be over soon because then I can go out shopping. Yes I am very materialistic and fake. Thanks for noticing that I only care about the important things in life.

Can you tell that I'm getting touchier lately?

I typed out like a ton of entries but just didn't have time to prettify them, if you can call adding a little bit of colour and changing the font that. So now, I'm putting off my studies (further math!) just so that I can finish this once and for all.

By the way, N asked me why I don't seem to be talking much about BB anymore. It's not that I've forgotten about her, no. In fact, I just wrote her a two foot long e-mail that took ages to type. Such is the burden one bears in a long distance friendship. I want Skype but my computer keeps rejecting it. Hmm... I don't give up that easily.

But I digress. The reason BB isn't really mentioned is to preserve my peace of mind. I find that distracting myself and not thinking so much about her helps me focus on exams. Hahaha. It's like I'm obsessed with her or something. God forbid that one of these days I fall hard for a guy. I'll stalk him to the end of time.

Well, since we're graduating pretty soon, there's going to be this convocation certificate presentation commencements ceremony. I think it'll be boring, as usual, but I'm supposed to do something. Here's where I reveal my hidden talent - banging aimlessly away on the piano. I'm one step away from completing the whole grade system, but am too lazy. So they want me to play a song, preferably one that everyone can sing along to. I thought of the Graduation Song by Vitamin C, mainly because I cannot be bothered to learn something that requires effort.

And also because some of these girls are prone to bursting into tears when one mentions leaving school. " I LOVE YOU GUYS! WHY MUST WE PART?! *cue tears* " Honestly, I even considered skipping my prom just so I could avoid some people in particular. Why oh why must everyone be so loving and caring all the time?

So here are my options. Please note that I am a little desperate to get out of this and might resort to such cheesy tunes that no one will want me on stage anymore.

Canon in D by Johann Pachelbel
I like this song. I was once obsessed with it, and made my piano teacher bring me as many versions of it as she could find. Needless to say, I mastered this song (not anymore!) and always played it when requested to perform. Of course, having heard this a billion times, there's always the possibility that this'll be turned down.

Hey There Delilah by Plain White Tees
Well well well, we meet again. I first heard this song ages ago, and not recently as most people have. Now that many losers claim to have discovered this song first, my brother and I amuse ourselves by silently making L shaped signs behind their backs, knowing deep down in our shriveled hearts that we have the best music taste ever. But anyways, while pressing random keys on the piano one day, I discovered that I had found the opening chords to this song. So if I managed to learn the rest... Did I mention that I once wished that my name was Delilah? Oh so childish.

Eve, Apple of My Eye by Bell X1
Easy to play. Pleasing to the ears. Might even make some of the teachers happy. Now if only no one wants to sing-along to this song. I actually like it, you know.

You're Beautiful by James Blunt
To get through this song without bursting out into laughter at its cheesiness will be the greatest triumph of my life. I kid you not. Oh sure, I don't mind listening to it at home, in the privacy of my room. But I must assure you that I don't swoon at the sound of it. Neither do I tell my boyfriends that I'd like them to dedicate this song to me. Or how romantic it is. It's just a nice song. However, some of the girls in my form are obsessed with it, calling it the best and most romantic/touching/heartaching melody in the living world. Come Graduation Night, should I be playing this song, I'll only have to take one look at the expression on their faces, the tears glistening on their cheeks, to remember why I'm going to leave school happy.

Bond vs Oakenfold by I Have No Idea
For the super spy secret agent that we'd like to be, but couldn't because our teachers laughed at our dreams when we were in kindergarten.

Seasons of Love by the cast of Rent
If you've ever been to an event at my school, you'd hear this song within ten minutes of entering the hall. It's a staple at every occasion. I guess it's a nice song. It's just raped my ears too often to be thought of in a fond way.

The Funeral March by Chopin
To confirm suspicions that I'm a freak. And a trouble-maker. And a loser. And every other insult that's ever been thrown at me. But seriously, what better way to symbolize our freedom from secondary education than the demise of our school years played out in this beautiful piece?

Fix You by Coldplay
Just because I know how to play it without freezing up too much.

Drops of Jupiter by Train
Another overplayed song. Will be deeply appreciated by the drunk boys swaying in the corner with their certs down their pants and their ties around their heads.
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out thereeeee?

The Blower's Daughter by Damien Rice
Least likely to be played. It brings back some bad memories for me. I find this song so beautiful, but every time I hear it, I'm lost all over again. And that's not a good thing. Although, if I play this, it might help me cry just enough to convince some people that yes, I will be missing them and yes, this is just as hard for me too. Sigh. Sometimes I just want to forget.

Boston by Augustana
Well, why not? Honestly, I just want to pick a song and get over with it, and this is as good as any other. But I like it though.

Colourblind by Counting Crows
Can I just say that I adore this song? Because I do. I first listened to it on a depressing day, and while it didn't make me feel better, it was beautiful all the same. And when I heard again some time later on Cruel Intentions, I was smitten even more. I just don't feel like sharing it with the rest of my form mates, who wouldn't appreciate good music unless they had eardrum transplants. Why waste it on them? I'll just play it for myself then.

Anime pieces
For the geek in all of us. Especially mine.

Some random classical piece / something by Richard Clayderman
The older generation (the school chairman is from the paleolithic ages) will enjoy this, and as we all know, that is what is most important in a graduation ceremony. None of us will be having fun during it anyways. Oh fine, it's just me. But Mariage d'Amour is a classic, and it's not hard on the fingers. I also happen to adore Arabesque 1 by Debussy.

A nursery rhyme
Hahaha... See the joking look on my face? It means that I'm not serious. Really. I'm not desperate.

Well that was a big help. I think I'll go study now. Further Math suddenly seems much easier.