i'll be the greatest fan of your lifetoday was great. edged with bittersweetness. knowing that with each weekend that comes and goes so quickly, is one more weekend lost, one more weekend closer to our departure and saying goodbye to the people we've lived with, breathed the same air and experienced the same joys and sorrows with. you find yourself wishing so hard that you could somehow freeze time in an instant. it's funny how the more i want to preserve a memory, that's when i leave my camera behind. i'm going to rely on my eyes and ears to take mental snapshots of you and you and you. from the way mildred crosses her eyes and sticks out her tongue and sets me off giggling nonstop till my stomach hurts so bad to the way faizal let me tickle him for 5 long seconds straight during dinner today to the way jessybaby and i just act all immature with one another and play a breathless game of chase all the way to pollock commons. i forsook work when i finished my book essay at 3am in the morning and had a long chat with mildred on the phone for 45 minutes in the darkened washington lounge, my private large space, my discovery, somewhere i can breathe on my floor without disturbing others. then there was sleep, and then there was class accompanied by a garlic bagel courtesy of nice russell frank my professor. i didn't do my questions on zucchino though, and there was a sort of liberation in that i didn't complete all my work FOR ONCE. why am i slogging so damn hard? i've been handing in every single assignment on time and done it till i've lost so much beauty sleep. one tiny piece of misplaced paper won't hurt, i'm sure. had a heavenly vanilla malt milkshake at baby's with floriaan, caught up with stuff and learnt about his 3 sisters and his pet cat that will miss him so much while he's here and away with us. he talked about how much he's going to miss faizal and how he's never gonna have another roommate like him. i wonder how we're going to say goodbye to our own roommates, hanwei and i. ag burst out with an "i'm going to miss you so much when you leave" when i came into the room yesterday, and angie declared "you're not ever gonna leave you're going to live here forever.". what do we say to these things? i'd sing the ernie song i love so much from sesame street.boy i'd like to visit the moon, but i don't think i'd want to live thereand this is my moon, the place i'd never thought possible in my lifetime. the people are perfect and the days are so fine (despite the weather playing it's wonderful tricks on us - supposedly later today it's going to be a mix of rain and snow... SNOW???! it's april! a late april fools' day joke.) i'm going to try and cling on to every droplet of us, every sensation, every thought and heartbeat and hug. back to today. we played a mix of frisbee, soccer and volleyball in the pollock fields. the sand from the volleyball pit felt like gritty snow and soon our feet turned pale white due to the numbing cold but we didn't care, we were having so much fun. maj and susanne's power serves helped our team (norman sharon me and the two danish gals) win. funny how sporty everyone's being, how much time i'm actually spending outdoors. in singapore, it'd never (well, rarely) happen, because of the mucky humidity. here, we unanimously agree that the natural airconditioning uplifts the spirit and just makes you wanna dance and play and hop and skip and kick. i think i'm gonna invest in a pair of rollerblades - i don't care how many times i'll fall already, in this semester alone i've probably fallen about a thousand times snowboarding and such. we played pool in the hub and i think i'm getting slightly better at it. i'm determined to be really good before i come back home, no more embarrassment for me! we then headed to the board games where i taught the guys how to play risk 2210 a.d. .. admittedly i wasn't a very good teacher but still they managed to quite thrash me. wasn't thinking straight by 130am, i can tell you that. the blur stupor i was in also made me game for that karaoke thingy with mildred and norman... we sang for fun and the result was 2 dvds of our performances. time preserved in a goofy singing session. but you know what, i'll never regret it, and i sang it for us.on sunday mil hanwei sharon and faizal are going to accompany some weird cornell guy out to philadelphia. i thought i'd be going, in fact, i really really want to go, but it's crazy, not everyone can fit in a regular-sized car anyway. i'm sad but it can't be helped, i'd better save up anyways and take a raincheck on the experience. fragmentation is the ultimate inevitability for us all, not everyone will be able to go through the same situations together anyhow. it's just a hard fact to digest. meanwhile, be huge beacons in the backseat for me!one more month. no more long naps and sleeping for me... there just isn't enough time for all that i want to do.
juice.susceptible had time to talk trash at 3:50 PM
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august 2014. how time flies! i still feel like i have so much more growing up to do. :)
funny how life changes forever with the most miniscule of happenings. the startled meeting of two surreptitious glances in the mirror, the sudden dangled offering of purchase of free flight. the thin results slip, the inconspicuous admissions letter. the bad phone call, a moment's folly of taking advantage of someone. the last thoughtless caustic remark that pushes a strained friendship over the edge. i love/hate life. and i know it's a loan.
archiveblog.
newblog. created for EN 3249: The Body - Politics, Poetics and Perception
modern daguerrotypography.
People.
here are the results of my aimless wanderings throughout endless cyberspace. limited in scope but thoroughly interesting, i guarantee.
books this season.
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Living Next Door to the God of Love by Justina Robson
A Case of Exploding Mangoes by Mohammed Hanif
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The Winter Vault by Anne Michaels
The Magicians by Lev Grossman
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The Little Book by Selden Edwards
Eaters of the Dead by Michael Crichton
The Books of Magic by Neil Gaiman
Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe
Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne
Joseph Andrews by Henry Fielding
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