I need a sugar daddy

Having to work your way through University to feed yourself, pay for your bills, pay for your brother's insurance, stay in hall, buy textbooks is depressing enough...But it gets worse when you receive a letter from CPF board after you've graduated for a year, asking you to pay back the damn sum of $18,816.76 that you owe them.

That is a gi-normous amount to think about. Hell, I've barely started working and the whole world is asking for money from me.

After the damn CPF freezes about a quarter of my pay-cheque to "assets" that I cannot touch until I'm too old to tell $5 from $50, I am still faced with financial concerns like...

My grandparents ask me how much am I paid every week I go to their place...

My parents are like an alarm clock that rings timely every that time of the month when people generally get their pay cheques...

My brother's insurance still automatically deducts a fat sum from my account at that time of the month, and it has been doing that even before I graduated.

On top of all those major bloody suckers, I still have my bills, medical, transport, food and whatnots...

And now CPF wants me to return $250 in installments, every fucking month for the next 12 years, to my dad's gahment controlled CPF account.

What is really depressing is I just found out that my parents had kept this piece of information from me all this while. They knew all along that I was expected to pay the sum back. All these while, they have conveniently leveraged on the "I slogged so hard to pay for your very expensive school fees so you'd better be grateful", or that "You start earning money and you keep forgetting to give us an allowance, don't forget who saw you through University."

Granted that I was aware of my family's un-rosy financial situation all these years, and I was expected to make a contribution to my family the moment I graudaute, tricking me into contributing to the family's gross income was wrong and so was leveraging on that idea to control my freedom and privacy all these while.

I blame it on Tradition. I know that if I were to call my parents lying scumbugs, I can be assured that I'd make my way into the top 10 most hated bloggers in the entire blogosphere. So I blame it on the deeply entrenched Asian-Singaporean Tradition, dictating that children have to contribute to their family's financial well-being the moment that they step out of school.

It doesn't matter what your own financial capability is. If you've gotta have to eat instant noodles (even cup noodles is too expensive) and drink plain water every day, then you've gotta do it. The bottom line is, you have to make your offerings at the end of every month, and your parents have every right to use whatever methods to pry that wad of hard earn money away from you. So tradition it is.

As for those who complain to me that you are constantly in their parents' debt because they need to have starbucks for breakfast, Crystal Jade for lunch and Lawry's for dinner, you really don't know the true meaning of being in a debt.

With reference to my title, no, I won't be picking up any of you losers from Butter, (or St James for that matter) even if you somehow managed to guess my chinese name correctly.

Code::XtremeApps::

Seeing that I am so darn free these days (my social activity calender is packed to my eyeballs, but my mother disregards them as frivolous pursuits), I was roped into the task force to "Plan the kid brother's holiday schedule".

So much for taking a garden break. Pffft!

The brother, by the way, is now in Primary 5. He prides himself on his martial arts display having seized several medals in some inter-school competition, mixes around with obnoxious kids from his school, and is perfectly comfortable sitting in the lower percentile of this class, grades wise.

Well, he's not too dumb for a kid, I think, considering the fact that he has an opinion about almost everything, and he can never seem to stop talking/singing/reciting dumb poems about poets basking moonlight, naked in the museum. And the only aim he has right now, other than to win another martial arts medal, is to play computer games. He can beat any Chatuchak shopper when he bargains with my mother to use the computer for games, for an hour and in exchange, he'll do an hour of homework, although he pretty much never keeps to his side of the promise. Plus he has this inexplicable fascination for Google Earth, which he installed, which then miraculously displaced my MSN from the iMAC at home. I do not know why.

So being the very concerned sister that I am, I wanted to plan something for him that is enriching, but not too cheesily boring; something that will excite him, that has nothing to do with martial arts because trust me, he'll have plenty of those during his vacation. Then I came across this programme that I thought was pretty cool and I thought of sharing it with all the teachers who actually reads my blog.

***And also for another reason which I will reveal later on in the entry :D:D

Due to last year's overwhelming response for a 24-hour programming competition called Code::XtremeApps::, The Information Technology Standards Committee (ITSC) is bringing the activity back this year.

What really excites me is the introduction of a new Junior Category this year, to invite children 12 years and below (MY BROTHER!!!!) to complete a task creatively, based on a given theme using this girly-named 3D programming tool called ALICE, which makes it easy to create an animation for telling a story, playing an interactive game, or a video to share on the Web.

Gee, I never thought that I'd use the word "cool" on a programming anything, considering that when I crashed a programming lecture as a freshman in NUS, all I cared about was socializing and making snide remarks at the nearby group of nerdy PRC girls.

Okie, the cool part comes when this programme actually provides training for the kids over a period of 5 days (:D:D which means 1 week of planning down for me), to teach them how to grasp the fundamental programming concepts through the manipulation of objects in the virtual world of Alice (in somewhat of a 'drag n drop' way), thereby developing logical thinking skills useful in probelm solving, through the same set of skills that you acquire from writing a programming code.
Hey the brother might emerge being more sensible than the nonsensical self he is now. Following that, the kids are required to spend about a week or two, to create their own Alice program based on a given theme. (2 more weeks burnt on something meaningful :D:D)

And the coolest of the cool part, which was also the part that got the brother really hyped up about this entire holiday programme, is the prizes for winner groups of the Junior Category:

1st Prize: A Nintendo Wii or equivalent for each member of the group
2nd Prize: A Sony PSP bundle or equivalent for each member of the group
3rd Prize: A Nintendo DS Lite or equivalent for each member of the group.

And 10 cosolation prizes worth up to $100 for each team. (Although the brother was giving the "CHEYS!" when I got to the part about the consolation prizes).

And now, the reason why I'm bringing up this programme on my blog at the risk of sounding like a really cheesy programming saleman, is to invite all the very smart kids out there, who are under 12, with teachers/parents who read my blog, to partner my brother and beat the pants off other kiddy combos who have also set their sights on winning the Nintendo Wii.
Any kids who are under 12, be it from MOE primary schools, Singapore-based international, or are home-schooled, are welcome to form a group of 2 to 3, to sign up for this competition.

The schedule of the competition is as follows:

Team Registration
18th April 2008 - 16th May 2008;
registration forms are available for download from the ITSC website www.itsc.org.sg

Training Session on ALICE
26th May 2008 - 30th May 2008; at Nanyang Girls' High School

Deadline for submission of Team Entries
23rd June 2008

Judging Day
27th June 2008

Prize Presentation Ceremony
August 2008

My brother is not a very logical type of kid, but he's full of creativity and mad ideas, and perhaps someone somewhere can synergize with him to produce a remarkable piece of work. RIGHT? So any volunteers?

For more information, please visit http://www.hardwarezone.com/news/view.php?cid=8&id=10455. Thnk yiou.

I was in TTS hospital pretty often lately because my grandfather was admitted after a fall.

In the past before the hospital's facelift, on the rare occassions when I went to the old facilities to visit some distant old relative on his/her dying bed, I'd be holding my breath for fear of contracting some airborn virus from the mouth of some coughing old man with terminal illnesses. Even after its facelift, with it's swanky new lobby, starbucks and all that cool shit that defines a cool new place, I still get the creeps the moment I stepped into the place.

Sharing the room with 5 other ole man, Gramps was occupying the window bed. He looked just like he always look, on weekends when the whole family would go over to have dinner with the folks. He didn't look too bad, except his usual strong voice is replaced by a barely audible whisper; and he constantly rubbed his tummy with a pained expression, while sniffing his medicated oil that I've always seen him sniffed for 20 odd years. He didnt look scary, but the scene around him did. Morbid, rather.

The old men were in varying stages of consciousness and mobility.

The old man lying at the other far corner had a tube that extended in the depth of his nostrils and he kept hacking up terrible things.

The old man on the bed beside my Gramps was extremely grumpy to all those around him. He was calling for the Missy, and was cursing and swearing and demanded to have his teeth brushed, although he looked like he was delirious, because he kept muttering some thing about some unfilial son in a mixture of Hokkien and ENglish.

The chap lying in the bed opposite gramps kept asking his wife and his maid, which of his friends had died.
"Eh, Aloysius died right?"
"Then what about Sam? Sam died too right?"
"Ah David, is David dead? Yea i remember, he died"
"Oh and there's Christopher, he's dying too right? He doesn't recognize anyone any more, right?"
ANd he goes on endlessly...

But through all the poignancy and gloominess, all around in the room, toothless old ladies held on to the hands of their significant half, stroking their arms occasionally and listening to the old men's barely audible whispers.

Looking on, I asked the bf, would he find it a hassle, that when I grow old and wrinkly and ugly and sickly, and my pau cheeks no longer bouncy and I'm no longer sexy, to take care of me everyday, wipe my drool off my cheeks, even if I do not recognise him anymore?

He said he would. (it's a Ten-year series sort of no-brainer answer for now.) But I believed him.

I believe that he loves me, and would want to take care of me for the rest of my life, but to love someone, you need to love something about that somebody. Something about me must bring him joy: make him happy, cook nice food for him, have great sex with him every now and then, try to look cute all the time, be fun to be around, connect with him intellectually etc, for him to continue loving me. That's why I would try to not be ge gao, unhygienic, ugly and fat even when I'm 40.

But the point is, when I am delirious and gross, and have clean forgotten him and our lives together, the only reason why he'll be be my bedside cleaning up my drool is probably because he feels that it's his responsibility to take care of me, his partner for life.

Responsibility. I don't want responsibility without love, I said.

He said, by then, love would settle into a quiet sort of comfort between a couple. It's accountability, responsibility yadayadyada....And I would treasure the memories we had together, and I can hold on to that to love you.

Digressing, if memories were sufficient for passion to burn, then he would still be in love with his ex gfs wouldn't he? <--Not trying to be ge gao here

Even though I've always been cynical about love, I'm ironically a romantic at heart.
To me, love is a philosophy, an emotion. yet to him, he walks the straight and narrow path on the idea of love that has been passed down for generations: responsibility and companionship.

So even when I am 89, stricken with Parkinson, lying immobile on a hospital bed, drooling, he would take care of me, and maybe thinks that he loves me.

Me? If we grew old together, and he got into the above mentioned situation instead of me, I would defintely be like one of those old ladies there gingerly scooping water for him and taking care of his every needs. But would I call that love? That I'm not so sure.

I might, when I'm 50, have seen more of life, and is greying myself,. But I guess I'm still too young to comprehend how can there be love without attraction.

So I'm turning 22.

That day my 10-yr old little brother was told the myth of 牛郎niu2 lang2, 织女zhi3 nu3， the goatherd and the weaving-fairy, who fell in love with other, but had to stay apart because of their difference in status. Hence, they were only allowed to meet once a year via a bridge paved by swallows and clouds. And I happened to be born on that day according to the lunar calender.

SO my brother said to me one day, "Wah jie jie your birthday is so romantic. Got story one..."

Me: Huh? what story? [blur; because i was told the story when i was his age, and at that time, I couldn't make that connection]

Brother: "Doh...the story of the niu lang[cowherd] and ji nu [prostitute], it's so poignant!"

uh.....

OKay, so that's how the cowherd spent his 364 days while he's away from the weaving fairy, with the prostitute.

LOMANTIC MEH???

Graduation

I've decided that this day is so fussed over (by me) that it deserves a mentioning in my recently empty blog.

I've officially graduated.

To tell the truth, it's really a Happy-Sad feeling. I love being called an NUS undergraduate. I love the student discounts that you get when you produce the NUS matric card. I love it that I only "function" for 3-4 days out of a week, because my academic timetable is always arranged to be such. And I love it that I can trample the central walkway in my pretty heels and mini skirt everyday, and feel completely at ease.

But most of all, I love my teachers and friends, whom I have learnt so many things directly or indirectly. I love my subject, and how in NUS, it opened my mind to show me how it's actually not a stuffy, boring antiquated subject that is meant for professors with thick specs and long dusty nose (from burying inside the thick history books). I love the school. I dunno what else I love, but I love it.

But enough of my love for my alma matter. This post is about my graduation.

Yea, so that day began with a frenzy in the house when my parents and my brother were busying themselves with ironing their 'Sunday Bests'. It was a blitering hot day, and I could feel my carefully made up face craking under the heat. I had taken care not to put too much make up, but just enough to portray that rosy cheeked, fresh-faced graduate look. Okie, but the stupid singapore heat had to mess it up, so that by the time I put on the motarboard (ie the square hat), my hair was already sticking to my face, and I wasn't looking so fresh faced liao.


Me. The Reluctant Graduate.



That's me on the stage being award the scroll. Which my lil' brother destroyed shortly after I came out of the hall.



Pwah!!! Bitch fight! Actually this is the work of le brother. SOmehow he stupidly, irritatingly twisted some fibre inside the scroll after he held it in his hands for 10 minutes, and afterwhich I couldn't open it. And that's us trying to force it open.



Still trying...



And then when it burst open, the inside was almost pulverized. Thanks ah...I'll make sure I destroy his scroll in about 15 years time. And see? The big kukunaden had the cheek to be cheering in the background.


But complaints aside, it was still a heart-warming event, a commemoration of the 3 years, I've spent in Uni, as one of the best years in my life. No kidding. There were friends, who made it so fun to go to school, although nerdy me likes going to school to study anyway...



That's Eileen, and together we have a favourite common gossip topic. It's too private to mention here though. And she's the ONLY nice JCRC in hall. She got honours oKAY!!!!



That's the group I always have history classes with. And in some tutorials, we surf internet, look at clothes, look at dunnowhatcock stuff and laugh over caricatures of a certain somebody. Okie I better hope that no lecturers read my blog now...That's Laurence, Jacelyn, me, yirang and Lay peng



This is Akbar, whom I will always remember as the one who wanted to work in Ministry Of Manpower to catch the illegal Bangrahs...Hummm


Not to forget my fellows within the Al-Qaeda and Soviet network, hurhurhur...budden those are too smart, and they need to do honours to justify their brains la. So they only graduate next year(with HONOURS; I'm graduating with MERIT ONLY), and so no grad photos with them.
Pity, my favourite lecturers weren't there to take pictures with me, and although Lockhart is really nice, but I didn't do so well for his modules that I don't dare to ask him for a picture.

Oh and my bestie, Laura deserves a whole section all by herself. Because I didn't tell her that I was commencing because I only had 2 tickets, and I thought it would be quite cock to ask her down only to tell her that there were no seats for her. But she came down anyway and made me very very very happy. See, this is what best friends are like...She offered to be with you in significant stags of your lives. Wah so touched that she came down all the way by MRT just for me to take pictures with her. I mean really thanks alot babe! To show that i really appreciate it, I have to put alot of her pictures here.


Here's to Laura who tolerated alot of my nonsense through out our years in school. Hey we've always been in the same school since we became best friends!!! But really, I was rreally over the moon/sun/mars when you sms-ed me to say you didnt want to miss it.




We had memorable moments during UNion Camps here, and I remembered her coming over to arts during one lunch time. We had yoghurt and talked about sad stuffs. Tee Heeh...



And zhiyou who has stood by me through thick and thin, big and small, bad mood mornings, smelly breaths, and embarrassing farts. I envisioned him at my graduation when we first got together, and here he is! E-appy. I love my Mao mao!


I'm not supposed to show this picture, but what the hell, it's funny. He looks funny. Heeh.


See, I'm Happy...Yay! And I look Pretty!!!


And then, there is my family. Coincidentally, it was my lil' brother's bday as well that day.
After all that we've been through, Mummy, Daddy, I've finally graduated!!! Although I am still miserably unemployed now, at least you don't have to worry about footing my school fees of a fucking 6000 plus each year. Hurhurhur...






I love my Daddy. Strangely, I'm not one of those girls who are very close to their moms. Throughout my growing up years, I've always felt that my dad was my pillar of strength, my role model, and I've always thought he was easier to confide in.
Not that I don't love my mom, but she never seemed to be the kind of woman I'd wanna grow up to be. So I am closer to my dad.



Okie this toilet is memorable because I OCCASIONALLY steal toilet paper from here to supply my own diminishing stock back in hall.




And I'll defitely miss the quiet corridors of my department, which I'll occassionally troop in to hand in my papers, or sneak in to hand in my very late papers, or drag my feet in to collect those papers which I didn't think I did so well, or meekly glide through to see my various lecturers abouot various things. I cannot remember if I've ever mentioned that the history department has no lift, and yet it's at the highest level in the building. I think that the school thinks that history is at the opposite end of technology, hence we don't get lifts. %#$@!!!




It's been a long time since I uploaded pictures in my blog. And this entry really took sooo long to blog. So read it slowly and appreciate it okay... Read it again if you really like it...and again. Cos it really took me damn long to load all those photos.