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!!!