I looked at your face

I saw that all the love had died

I saw that we had forgotten to take the time

I, I saw that you couldn't care less about what you do

You couldn't care less about the lies

You couldn't find the time to cry

We forgot about love

We forgot about faith

We forgot about trust

We forgot about us

Now our love's floating out the window

Our love's floating out the back door

Our love's floating up in the sky,

In heaven, where it began

Back in God's hands

You said that you had said all that you had to say

You say: baby, it's the end of the day

We gave a lot but it wasn't enough

We got so tired that we just gave up

We didn't respect it

We went and neglect it

We didn't deserve it

But I never expected this

Our love floated out the window

Our love floated out the back door

Our love floated up in the sky,

to heaven, it's part of a plan

it's back in God's hands, back in God's hands

oh we didn't last, it's a thing of the past

no we didn't understand just what we had

oh I want it back, just what we had

I want it back, just what we had

Isn't that a beautiful song? I'm not a christian but I am a believer in GOD and I think it's beautiful how love and GOD are intertwined because that's really what GOD is at the end of it: a manifestation/origin of love. When I heard this song, I thought of someone else who should have heard it too. She would have understood it and I think I know how she'd have felt.

On the other hand, love is also a horrible painful thing. It burnishes every moment with such a rose-lit clarity that the aftermath is just like, I'm not sure, the immense jabbering of iron nails.

I shan't talk about my grades until I get them all back.

People can be so petty and ineffectual. Sheesh.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll.

Go on, you who know so much of love, teach me. Teach me how to piece the broken shards together.

If I want to look back on my childhood, all I see is a hazy period of panic, sweat, laughter, night, slumber and my child-voice against a backdrop of cars. It ends though, very clearly, like a shroud of smoke stopped by a panel of glass- the nightmare I've been numbed to that divides my childhood so abruptly from the rest of my life. The rest comes afterwards in startling clarity- the madness, the happiness, the dark hours of solitude drowned in tears, the clean moments of indolent joy, the light, the darkness, my heart turned to stone, my flesh turned to light.

So teach me again, I keep forgetting. How do you keep your life together when you've built it all on a heap of broken glass? Glass sparkles, diamonds too. Dim light that filters through these pieces of the soul, it emerges in a pitiless stream of fire.

Will you pick me up? No matter, I don't want to be anyway. We must bear the burden of the future and never long for the sweetness of the past. I won't ask for it, don't worry, it is not for me to ask in the end.

Twelve years. I was born again twelve years ago. Dim light and pitiless fire, through the shards of glass that remain.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll eats up.

Air tickets to Paris Charles De Gaulle are secured. We will be renting an apartment which will be absolutely gorgeous. Oh and then we shall be going to London for two nights and I've checked the hotel: it's actually quite nice. Nothing beats claridges, but it really isn't too bad.

I'm so gleeful. Going to Paris and getting straight As thereafter, life is good.

Getting merits for S papers is fine with me. :D

Went out with the class last friday night. It was quite nice, just chilling out and sharing cocktails and food. Akesh was like a rabbit on crack. Bhavan was maboed. James was lost, found, lost and found again. Daniel drank lots of beer. Val was a camwhore. Candice was funny. Geri amazingly, didn't get a stomach problem. Sarah was just Sarah which is always a good thing. I'm the retard who looks like shit in pictures. Sarah dear that she is, commented once more on my eyes.

Yes, I really am Chinese. My ancestors weren't raped by Japanese or anything like that.

Monday was great too, aside for the greatest shame of my life which I shall never forget. I never felt so horrid before but it is a lesson learnt. Never will I be without money on my person. Oh, Jo is a champion talker and a champion walker. There's a Gucci wielding woman warrior. Going out with her is good training for any guy. I think I ate a little too much though, comme d'habitude.

I've been reading a travelogue written by Carsten Jensen and it is rather good. This is of course, after reading Mr. Norrell and Johnathan Strange which is also another good book.

That's about it for now.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll smiles.

The maid seemed shocked this morning when all I wanted to eat after my usual run was a slice of wholemeal toast with nutella and a glass of soy milk. I'm strangely not as ravenous as I often am after a run even though today's was worse than usual and I nearly collapsed.

I'm still perspiring.

Oh I am fuming mad now. I simply am! I loathe, detest and nauseate people who moan and lament how horribly stupid they are and have the audacity to demand pity, pity! when they then proceed to do very well in the exams. Really, it is disgusting and I don't care what you think but utterly distasteful. Far more distasteful than anything I could have thought of since this smacks of rank hypocrisy of the most childish, jejune sort.

And you may be assured that I never do things like that.

End of rant there. I think I'll go take a bath now because I stink. Blogging has become some sort of cool down exercise now.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll smiles.

All right, against my better judgment, I actually watched the Devil wears Prada. And WRONG, she does not wear Prada.

I don't see why she turns out to be the horrible woman. I thought what was portrayed was a very strong woman who cares about her career, who is prepared to sacrifice so much for her career and I hardly think that it was for nothing. People can be so funny sometimes with their morals.

I'm sorry for being rude. I don't mean to, well, not all the time anyway. It's just, it's not easy for me to be nice to people who get into my way and not move or make themselves useful. I try to be useful most of the time, I don't see why you can't do the same.

Ah, all there is left is a devotion to efficiency.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll smiles.

The world is perfect once more.

The exams are nearly over. Just two more days and then, I have a strong desire to pull a stallone on hist s even though I know I should just get in there can claim my Merit plus.

And it WILL be a merit plus because I'll never be able to get a Distinction unless I do two SEA hist s questions and one GP hist s question and even then, I wonder. I dare not compare myself to St. Janice of Heng but I think I do fine enough for an student aspiring to intelligence.

And I didn't even break my back while doing my weights today. Now doing ten kg each. I wonder how long it will have to take before I get used to them and can move on. Right now, they're hell, especially since I'm no longer to switch on the fan.

HMPH. It turns out, Mummy can't take us to Paris now because Pa will miss his appointment with the oncologist now. This is most annoying. This also means I shall have to stay in Singapore during that long awful period while everyone else begin studying for their A levels.

Disgusting. Nevermind, I'm definitely going to Paris for good anyway so I'm sure by then, I'd have fallen into the Seine enough times.

Incidentally, you can't actually swim in the Seine and every year, Paris imports tonnes of sand and pours them on the streets in celebration of La Fete de la Plage. Les parisiens sont tres bizarre a mon avis. Pourquoi vourdrait-on faire des plage quand France a beaucoup de cotes?

Anyway, DEE, I BOUGHT THE BOOK. FASHION BABYLON.

I solemnly promise I will not take drugs or go to my own after-show party. Nor will I listen one bit to what La Wintour says because it's all crap. I will however hang onto every word that M. Arnault, M. De Sole and Mr. Ford say.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll seats down to write.

You know, it's really funny how so many youth identify the opposition with greater political freedom and a further narrowing in the schism between liberal democracy and the democracy that we have. If you pause and think for a while, you wonder:

Is this what the opposition really want? Can you be so sure that once in power as the political incumbent, that the current opposition wouldn't entrench themselves in the same way as well? The fact is, Singapore is an extremely small country. That we are not an oligarch like most city-states in history is testament to the sense of responsibility of our current ruling party. Whether or not Mr. Lee's son may be a sign of some form of 'dynastic nepotism' as that man with the nasty beard along City Hall mrt station depends entirely on his political aptitude which we may not as yet assess until more time has elapsed. Mr. Goh after all, had to prove himself by taking Singapore through much of her second growth phase in preparation for her current third before he came to be respected as a Prime Minister in his own right. It remains to be seen if Mr. Lee may spend the political capital built by Mr. Lee Kuan Yew and Mr. Goh wisely in setting the course for another period of growth.

Lowly student as I am with limited resources and the capacity for much insight, it seems to me that the IR and other 'recreational industries' do not seem to be the solution. We will after all, never be Macau and without developing our manufacturing and services bases, we risk letting our neighbours become viable competitiors. The supply and demand for financial and other higher end services in the region, if I may so callously employ the economics tools of an unintiated neophyte, do seem to be more price and cross inelastic than that of entertainment.

As usual, I cannot concentrate on a single point so let me return to my point on politics.

What do the youth of Singapore think about Chen Shui Bian in Taiwan? Do you think that he should step down? Well, I'll tell you this. If you believe he should step down and that the people of Taiwan have the right to force him off stage, then you are but a hypocritical proponent of democracy. To force him offstage now instead of voting him out of power come the next elections is nothing short of undemocratic and unconstitutional. It is a gesture of blatant disrespect to the mechanisms of democracy.

Herein lies another lesson. Democracy is not only power to and from the people. It is duty for the people. You take responsibility for the leader that you have voted into power. If he seeks to entrench himself through means like declaring martial law or rigging elections, if the democratic mechanism fails, then you make take to the street. But taking to the street has its price, look at Thailand, look at the Baltic States, look at the Philippines. I tell you, I despise your irresponsible idealism, for those of you who would seek democracy without knowing the burden that it brings with it.

One more thing, we're a meritocracy, not a democracy. Which means that right now, we should be asking our government, with due respect and with utmost courtesy, why there have been steps at the educational level to not only remove the tools of meritocracy (streaming. It is a good idea, just not so early in life. Streaming and school ranking are both excellent tools and should be kept.) while at the same time, redcuing equality of opportunity with the Integrated Programme. More on that next time.

Meanwhile, I have a history exam to run to and I still need to bathe. So there.

I still love the PAP and hold Mr. Lee Kuan Yew in the highest regard. Yes, I'm biased towards them, so what? You try respecting the Worker's Party.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll

My back has been ruined by lots of black splotches of blood. Went to the Chinese physician this afternoon and the pain was just...ahh.

Anyway, I realize I don't like to be humbled or embarrassed and I'd much rather get annoyed and angry. So nobody tries to blame me for anything, you hear?

I wished I had anything good to say. Well actually I do. I read somewhere about an English luggage company that specializes in making travel cases like they do in the 20s and 30s but I can't remember the name. It's supposed to be adapted to suit modern day travel and so is quite hardy and what's more, the prices are hardly steep so I'd like to own a piece or two. I think I shall have use of a steamer trunk soon.

I always admired apartments that use antique travel cases and steamer trunks as furniture. Isn't it a wonerful idea? To go with delicious Chinese painting scrolls and bolts of silk running across cross-parquet flooring. Did I mention slate walls?

Oh yes, and Mummy has come up with another Mad Plan. She wants to whisk my sister and I to Paris and London not before I go off to NS now but before my A LEVELS so that I arrive in Singapore the day before my A levels. Such touching confidence in my ability.

My teachers will not be amused.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll takes a rest.

Imagine a room. Its four walls papered a sombre shade of green and hung with scrolls upon scrolls of calligraphy. A skilled connoiseur of such things would recognize them to be the works of Ly Duong Cui, all part of his Thoughts on an Amber Print. A bookcase stood with its back to a side of the room and an oblong table placed next to it, the satin grain of the wood lacquered till it gleamed like rouged amber. There was little else in the room, save for a man seated to the side of the table on a stool.

He folded his hands together, fingers laced, shifted and laced again. A bead of perspiration rolled down an errant strand of grey hair before being brushed away. The room was silent save for the humming of the air conditioner though he felt the compulsion to remove his jacket. He took a deep breath, his pale skin suffused with a blanched tautness that made his clenched jaw very prominent.

The door opened. He rose to his feet and made for the door in a motion like a large spring uncoiling in a sudden. The man who had just entered the room waved for him to sit down and then took his place behind the table.

"Terribly sorry, Childric," he said in Mandarin. Shuffling the paper that had been arranged into a pile on his table, he retrieved a sheaf from it. "Yes?"

"Mr. Vo, sir. We spoke about the contract with the Company, remember? You mentioned a reply-"

"Ah, that. Why yes, His Excellency has spoken with the Chinese Executive and there appears to be," he paused, silently mouthing the words on the paper, "some inconvenience involved."

"But, sir, surely the Vietnamese Embassy may have the right of it? To persuade the Company? I assure you, my colleagues and I have done the utmost with regards to this concern."

The man chuckled and put the piece of paper down. He leaned forward to take a better look at the man. A Frenchman. Ah, the irony of it.

"But of course, Childric. When has Vietnam never cared for her kin? It will take time, that is all, to convince that Chinese Executive that you will be the best candidate to serve the interest of the Company."

There was a pause where both men looked at one another. It was all the man could do to keep his gaze steady in the face of the official's bland smile, his eyes seeming to pierce through his.

The man coughed, "If there is anything else I can do, perhaps speak with the Chinese Executive myself-"

"-impossible, you know the protocol. For you to request their attention without a Vietnamese mediary," he shook his head and smiled.

"I understand, sir," the man said though his fists clenched beneath the table. It was the sort of obtuse procedures that the Chinese always required and he was never allowed to forget it, his place in the scheme of things.

The official remained silent, his attention turned to a letter he was currently writing. The meeting was over as far as he was concerned. There were things the Frenchman did not have to know.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Vo." The man inclined his head and walked out of the room, closing the door with deliberate slowness.

"Don't let me keep you."

C'est tout.

Blank Doll loves his life.

Literature today wasn't too bad, save for the stupid M4M question which I am doomed to always get a B for since I really don't get the characters in that book. AND because I detest Shakespeare.

Grant me this little bit of parochial ignorance, my mind can only be so wide and so open.

Anyway, tomorrow is mathematics and I'd be whining and moaning about it except for the fact that I'm not taking it. Quite a stroke of luck really, me sleeping at home while the rest of my friends with the exception of Akesh and Bhavan have to toil at stats tomorrow.

Good luck anyway!

WHAT is this I hear about Chee Soon Juan wanting to MARCH and PROTEST? Any three year old retard can see what he's trying to do, with the IMF here in Singapore, and how absurd too. I'd be finding a way to MARCH and PROTEST against having to reveal to the world what insipid excuses for opposition politicians we have except I detest the idea of opposition so would rather they just hid in a dark corner and wither away. Never mind, I bet those smug self-righteous liberal democrat people will be embarrassed when they see what sort of opposition we have, so there. Hah.

Taxi driver politics. How inconvenient.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll

"for in her youth, she has a prone and speechless dialect such as move men."

"Don't you know the devilry of lingering starvation?"

"the question he asks is what to make of a diminished thing."

"say my corruption grew out of horse dung."

"he speaks like a grazier as he looks."

"we failed if we became wife and slave."

One could almost say that I were having fun with my literature revision. After all, it's not the bullshitting that's hard, it's the remembering what bullshit your playwright/poet/author has written that could possibly, just possibly, corroborate your bullshit so your literature teacher who has made a profession out of bullshitting(ah the modern age, who doesn't now?) can acknowledge how good you are at bullshitting.

Meanwhile, I have thus far kept to the HIC thingum which is doing hell to my left thigh. I think I shall have a word with the doctor the next time I accompany my mother to have her shoulder looked at. I mean, I really wouldn't like to have to limp around.

Each time I read anything to do with the fashion industry or with tailoring, my hands quiver and I swear I could almost die from the anticipation. I need to move on with my life, not grind to a halt here even though I have to admit, Raffles has turned out to be far more fun than I'd thought possible.

Though things can go wrong, things have gone wrong. Guess that's because I'm not very good with words and then sometimes because I hardly care.

Dreamt I was late for literature. I will KILL myself if I were late.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll smiles.

The economics essay test wasn't too difficult I suppose. In fact, I was actually quite happy with what I did. This is slightly irrational however, considering that I couldn't finish my last question and had to plonk in a vanilla conclusion about Australia- a country I detest, know nothing about and want nothing to do with in the foreseeable future. In an attempt to reject typecasting (and also because I didn't know it was a question on EOS- thanks to Jessie for that), I refused to do the question on fashion firms in Singapore. What would a small fashion firm in Singapore do? Close down and kill yourself.

Tomorrow is History, South East Asia. I should be good at it. I think I'll flip through my notes later on.

Meanwhile, eating my lunch now consisting of wholemeal toast with melted mozarella cheese and parmesan omelette which only goes to show that I can survive on bread, sun dried tomatoes, dairy products and the odd foie gras. I WISH I had sun dried tomatoes with me now but ulu Sembawang doesn't deserve a place that sells sundried tomatoes, so there.

I wonder how much does it cost to hire domestic help in France.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll

"I have 'gook' words and 'chink' words [that] do not all fit on my skin"

"...the pulsating stream of light...the deceitful flow from the heart of an impenetrable darkness"

"More than our brother is our chastity."

"Cuckolds and bastards are generally makers of their own fortune."

"The marriage night is an entrance into some kind of prison."

"Essence of winter sleep is in the air."

Go on Jessie, do the honour.

I think I'd like to have a greyhound when I grow up and get a really large house with spacious compounds. Are they not just the sleekest dogs? So much energy, such poise. If they were humans they'd be old school gentlemen who would rather die than be affronted by the existence of such a thing as the baseball cap and who remember to remove their headgear upon entering a building.

The Sartorialist is a great blogsite and I admit to be guilty of being a tailor fetishist. There is something very attractive about a handstitched seven folded tie or the welted seams of a pair of tailored shoes.

You have no idea what fun cramming two years' worth of economics into two days can be.

I find a sudden want for avocado-stuffed soft shell crabs. Is there such a dish? Avacados are the best I tell you. So rich in healthy fats and tasting so deliciously smooth. It's like Nature's I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter butter substitute. Have you tried eating one whole?

Yum.

For some strange reason, I have been banned from editting Wikipedia even though I have never done so. AND, I can't access MSN now. DAMN.

Guess it's sleeping time then.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll sighs.

Thanks to Mindef, Mummy's plan to take the entire family to Paris at the end of the year is now in a precarious situation. Grr.

My dear little sister bought a gameset yesterday. Cluedo, was it? Rather fun, I'd say. We stayed up till 1 30 am playing the game and I won two out of four rounds. Would have won the last round too as it were but my dear little sister also tricked me though she may protest.

French is getting increasingly difficult. Really, who cares if we faire d'accord pour les verbes prominaux s'il y a de COD avant ou si c'est les verbes refliches et pas reciprochal. The thing is, in the end, when you speak, it's all going to sound the same anyway since sibilance is a hated thing in French.

Meanwhile, please don't bomb IMF. Please don't protest and march in front of IMF. Please do arrest and deport the lot of them. I detest dissent. I don't understand why adults think it a necessary feature of youth to like dissent. I like a polity that runs like clockwork, that strives for perfection, that streamlines and adapts itself discretionally instead of arbitrarily.

Ok, nevermind.

Ooh, quotes of the day!

"It was a mad fantastical trick...to usurp the beggary he was never born to"

"Even now, China wraps double binds around my feet"

"I am overtired of the great harvest I once desired."

"Your virtue is your greatest affectation."

"All Europe contributed to the making of Kurtz."

"What thing is this outward form of Man to be much beloved?"

Feel free to correct them.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll says hi.

"Cover her. Mine eyes dazzled, she died young"

"Earth is a good place to love."

"Little honour to be much believed. Seeming! Seeming!"

"You have no idea how far I have fallen coming to America"

"...weak-eyed flabby devil of a rapacious and pitiless folly..."

"Wine and women are like sugar and sack."

Stay tuned for more Lit Quotes for the Day. :D

Meanwhile, back to my daily life which is obviously more important. Not to be snooty or anything but I'm not the one who spent my entire holidays cooped up at home poring through my books in some last ditch effort to score really well.Or worse, go to school and study/pose in the canteen.

Oops dear me. This applies to everyone but my dear friends in 2A01D who have all the right to pose in the canteen especially dear Sarah. I can just see her, ARMed with all her books and trooping over to the canteen, poring over her books like a war general pore over his maps in his ARMy camp.

Yay, two ARMs.

Ok, I digress. Was loitering around Taka yesterday in a vain attempt to decide which pair(s) of shoes I might want to buy. Looked in on Bally and heedful always of Jo's pearls of wisdom God bless her soul, Bruno Magli. I have decided that the Gucci kidskin half-boot with the halter bit will have to wait till the first cash in of my stock options. Besides, I'll be faced with the Shoe-Top Equivalence dilemma.

The Shoe-Top Equivalence Dilemma- The phenomenon whereby any utility gained from buying an expensive item of wear will in the long run be off-set by the utility lost via frustration at having nothing of similar value to go with it. The aforementioned Gucci boots for example, at the cost of US$1200, will soon lose its shine if one lacks a Zegna merino microfine jacket and matching pants, a Sea-Island 200s Thomas Pink shirt a pair of antique cabochon diamond cuff-links found at a Christie's sales, a pair of finely carded silk socks and a nine-folded silk tie cut at the bias from Brioni. The above outfit will no doubt cost at least ten grand, excluding the Gucci boots, and will soon force me to mortgage myself to Citibank.

And we're not even talking about owning a plantinum Vacheron-Constantin with all the complications you can fit into a watch. Was there a tourbillon? I presume so. I seem to recall a piece with a constellation theme.

Digressing again. Anyway, I couldn't find anything as yet but I do have a slight glimmer as to what I want. It will have to be a pair of black oxfords, although I still haven't decided on the material. Likely, it'll be suede or kidskin. I also want a pair of boots. This I know what I want. It should reach up my shin so that's a half-boot. It shall be black with a buckle in front instead of lace and it shall be kidskin. I like kidskin and suede so much because they don't crack, need shining and are comfy to wear. The only thing is, they're hell to care for and you can't get a whit of dirt on them or there's no cleaning it off.

After that, I went to Kino to look at books. Grabbed Fashion Babylon, was going to pay for it then remembered that someone in class had a Kino card. Was it Xiao Jun? If so I better borrow from her quick. Taschen has got this really cool costume book at the very low price of 95 bucks and if I don't get it soon, well, my skin will itch. So I'd better hurry and hunt down that person.

Met my French teacher while browsing through the French section. Always highly embarrassing since it's the same as meeting my Chinese teacher at a Chinese poetry reading place. Before he came to spoil the pleasure, I found a book called Les Sacres Vaches- Les Francais. Or something like that. It's about the things that the French hold dear and how that's going to have to change in the new century. Then there was this book which was really cute, Regime pour les parreseuses- not sure if I spelt that correctly but it means Diet for Lazies.

Given free rein of the bookstore, I think the first thing I'd cart of would be the Fashion Design and Architecture section followed by the History Section followed by the Sociology section and then because all of us have some flaws, the Fantasy section. Hey, at least I can't claim the dubious honour of having read the entire Harry Potter series like J K Rowling is Gibbon's incarnate and I certainly haven't found Tolkien because I watched the movie. (No, I never did bother watching the movie since I read the book in primary school, found it immensely boring and to my dismay, found that Tolkien had managed to inspire a whole legion of authors to follow in his footsteps forever after.)

Did I mention that my dear little sister was with me the entire time? Well, now I have. Went to the Food Hall afterwards to get some food. I have something to rant about. Why on earth do people whom the Straits Times interview for the Sunday Times always say they really, really love Singaporean hawker fare no matter what they have eaten before? I mean, I don't hate hawker fare (not yet) but I don't exactly love it and I could do pretty fine without it. I do not have the slightest craving for God forbid, chicken rice. Why the hell do everyone think about chicken rice when they think about Singapore anyway? I don't even like the stuff! Give me a nicely done chicken cordon bleu anyday. The point being, I think it's just a really stupid way to show patriotism to the country. We have so many wonderful things to boast of. One of the highest cab-to-people ratio in the world, the best government the world has ever seen, the economic miracle, a Jimmy Choo store of our own, Mr. Lee Kuan Yew, the Fullerton, our very own billionaires, the fact that our country went from nothing to this in enough years for our neighbours to seem as if they've gone the other way AND we can only boast about hawker fare.

Absurd. Might as well say you prefer Potong ice cream to a good tub of B&Js.

While I was discussing this with my sister. (We'll leave the rant about fast food for next) This woman asked us if we wanted chicken rice and we burst out laughing. Well, the timing was splendid. In defiance of all that, I went to the bakery, got myself a spinach and ham quiche, my sister a ham and egg pie and I dare say I enjoyed that far better than I would chicken rice.

We had dinner afterwards at Sun with Moon. The food there was passing fine and I really liked the presentation. We were sitted at this tiny alcove which was sort of cute. I had the chasoba with the yam paste as well as the cube steak tenderloin with the sesame mustard and the soy sauce. My mother had some unagi and clam rice while my sister ate the croquette with crab and cheese filling. We shared a salmon and avacado paper roll and a softshell crab and avacado maki. All very good. The dessert was mixed though. I liked the sesame pudding and the tofu cheesecake. The green tea Bavarian cream lacked green tea I thought and the kyodango was gross. Either that or I don't like dangos although I seem to recall liking the one I bought from Meidiya.

It was nice, eating and talking like that. Very much like the dinner we had with my dad at this other Japanese restaurant at Siglap the other day.

Ah well, today is a new day and I suppose I ought to study something if only I knew what. Maybe I will study econs. But I was thinking I should run through Woman Warrior to better prepare myself for the dancing and the singing for Cambridge.

Would rather mortgage myself to Citbank though.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll.

Healthier leaner me is not happening if I cannot even abide my four small meals a day routine. I'm starving now.

Can you imagine I even took out the bloody egg yolk? And am eating whole meal bread?

Nevermind, in the long run, this will work out fine.

Until I go berserk and devour a whole pound of foie gras and confit de canard.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll smiles and sits still

Day 2 of my New and Improved General Health regime and I'm not doing very well on the dietary side. Sure, I went for another round of HIC which totally winded me. But I also ate a bowl of cereal, a slice of toasted wholemeal with nutella, a bowl of noodles with cream stew, a bowl of pumpkin soup, two morsels of biscuit and too much Japanese food for dinner. I've been drinking alot of water though. Now I've eaten two detox pills and hopefully, I'll be rid of all the food I've eaten before my body notices. Can't do weights today because thanks to self-destructive nature yesterday, hurt my left arm while doing hammer curls. Damn, those things are hard.

ANYWAY. I made cookies today. Stupidly used self-raising flour instead of plain flour and now my cookies are hollow. Rather cute I think, and they taste good too. This could of course be due to the fact that I dumped in the entire bag of chocolate chips because I couldn't be bothered to weigh them.

I'm a genius at planning meals. It's the execution that leaves so much to be desired.

The prelims are coming and I feel remarkably calm. Sooner or later, I just know I'll kick start properly. When I do I'll be sure to tell you so that you can properly accuse me of mugging instead of groundlessly insisting that I must be secretly studying everytime I'm busy doing something other than breathe. Why must I even be studying secretly eh? What's so bad about studying?

You know what's bad? When you reduce learning to nothing but a song and dance for Cambridge. Nothing but a sham. Now that's bad.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll smiles.

The wonders of the Internet. After a search or two, I've decided to drastically change my exercise regime. Have phased out push ups and long distance running (figuratively speaking, I obviously cannot run any distance longer than 6km). Instead, now I've incorporated more weights stuff and something strangely called HIT which basically involves inducing heart attacks by running very fast, slowing down and then repeating.

All I can say is: OUCH.

Nevermind, I'm doing all this for fun so there.

Mei and I cooked up a pumpkin soup with a roux as a base. It's rather good I must say. There was also a chicken stew with a cream base but that was a little salty, too much ham I think.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll laughs at your hair.

In lieu of Pa, my dear sister has cooked up a storm for dinner. There was this dish of chicken layered with mozerella and a tomato sauce she made from scratch that was really good. This was followed by a macaroni salad with fruits.

Mind you, my sister is only 12.

Ah my little genius, my little domestic goddess. How lucky both of us are to have one another.

French was great today. There were plenty of people today and for some strange reason, I decided to wear my YSL shirt with the pale orange stripes. The sleeves were a little short so I pushed it all the way up. Rather nice.

I need to lose weight. I swear I do.

C'est tout.

Blank Doll sighs.

Yesterday was a good enough day I think.

Went to school for Teacher's Day and of a class of 21, about four of us were present at first. There was Edmond, Denise, Kristine and me. Bah. Sarah and Candice came later I think but I left first because it was getting boring.

I am very proud of myself, inordinately so perhaps, that I never once thought of cabbing from my school to Innova JC though it is inexplicably situated in the wilderness. Suffice to say, I took the Mrt there, walked (walked!) to the side gate to find it was locked and then had to walk a lot more to reach the main gate. Unlike the rest of us who place our main gate at the main road, they have theirs along an artery called Champion's Way that cuts into nothing. It was really strange too, for me to be the only person in my white uniform walking along the corridors of a place I singularly do not belong to.

I did get to see Mdm. Chitra though which was the original reason why I went there in the first place. She remains as ever the literature teacher I had come to love in secondary school. We spoke of school, of where I am about to go and I am glad she has adjusted slightly to life at Innova JC. She seems much happier with the J1s there since she is of the opinion that the J2s were plenty hopeless. But still, she is a great teacher and it is the loss of others if they do not know her worth.

Went to Ahmad Ibrahim thereafter. Not many people there. Dear Mr. Row left before I could see him though I did see Mdm. Latifah and Mr. De Roza. Haha, I really have changed quite a bit since secondary four if none of the teachers mentioned above so far could recognize me at first sight. Mr. Ong threatened to catch me for my hair, funny. Met Mr. Lee and spoke for a while, waiting as I was for Xuan who was late.

I told ya I was going to cab to school didn't I, so it was only going to take a while. But I forgive you. :)

Spent yet more time at Mr. Lee's Art Room. Xuan played the piano and I resolved to steal her ipod mini just so I could get those piano pieces she was playing. We walked around the school, trying to put our fingers once more to the memories the school held for us until the school was well nigh deserted. Funny, both of us don't seem to have gotten much from the school. Took the bus with her to Yishun then both of us went home.

Good luck for your exams!

I think tracing the trajectory of my life so far, where I am now fits nicely. Each time I reach a new stage in life, I find myself in a foreign environment where the stakes are higher- good preparation for when I take my place in the fashion community.

Oh, Mummy's flown to Taiwan with Pa and Daddy's off to Malaysia to watch Lobo live. I tell you, this is needless consumption on imports, especially since these are our trading rivals.

Have just been inspired by Linda Low again, reading the Political Economy of Singapore. Will post about ultra-nationalist sentiments later.

C'est tout.