(This post is loooong overdue. Remember I had a scary dream after my harrowing Grade 5 theory exam? Well here's the draft I wrote of it but never got around to completing it:)
You know how singer-songwriters would dream about a melody one night and turn it into a sensational pop song the next day? (Famous examples include Angela Zhang's 夢裡花.)
Well it has finally happened to an aural fanatic like me! Perhaps all that brainwork during my theory test has finally tapped into the most obscure regions of sub-consciousness in which I might have astounding musical talent!
So anyway, this is the product of my talent:
Imagine PMS and Ho Dong and Haha and MC Yoo on a stage, dressed in sparkling white suits. Dancing. I remember clearly that PMS did a perfect V-split standing on his hands. MC Yoo had a bowler hat on. Ho Dong was doing ballet. I was in disbelief (so should you).
To me left. Wu Zun was looking at them, nodding in approval. He has a nametag on that says "Manager". He was giving verbal directions to Haha on how to moonwalk (??).
Back to the stage. The four guys were dancing the intro to a to-be groovy hiphop song. Wu Zun went up to them and gave guidance on singing (you must be low and indistinguishable like me!! oh yes). Then, abruptly, they started singing a 70s' style beach song in Fei Lun Hai's voices, aka unison singing with an incredible amount of off-pitching. The song was godawful - the lyrics was like:
Noo noo no, I am young and worldly
Ohh ohh oh, I am more than nobodeeeeeeeeey~~!!
(repeat)
(repeat)
I can remember the tune still. Egad.
(this draft ends abruptly here)
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
this shall neba happen again T_T
This is, quite simply put, the worst day of the year. I am in no mood to recapitulate this with flair. I shall only record it succinctly as a reminder of horrifying consequences of certain long-standing habits. Begone.
I reached there on the dot and was the last to enter the examination venue. I was asked to produce the entry proof and omgwth it wasn't in my bag. Took me fifteen minutes to retrace my steps, disturb someone's toilet affair and retrieve the uncooperative piece of paper. (It was sitting nonchalantly on top of the sanitary bin.)
The label, the one with my name on it, was defiant too. Apparently I must have dropped it in my bag or at home or in school or whatever. Anyway, it certainly wasn't with me, so I had to take a few minutes off to fill in an "Anomalies during Examination" form. The examiner wasn't happy.
My mechanical pencils? A bunch of insurgents. The green one had about 4mm of lead left. The purple had but a miserly (but still of some utility) 1.4cm of lead in it. It's akin to a time-bomb. I had to ration out the use of pencil over the five questions. (I ran out by the time I got to checking my answers, so I had to resort to holding lead between my fingernails. Eww.)
Question 2 hated me. I redid the question twice. (Which also equates to waste of lead.)
Question 4 and 5, with some optimism, wasn't a German extract. Oh yes. The Italian term I was tested was this:
pochettino piu mosso
Three fairly common Italian words. I knew all three, certainly. BUT.
Pochettino means very little.
Piu means more.
Under all schools of thought (except Zen and yoga and the like), something less is never more. Never ever.
(Anyway I settled for "a little bit more movement". Screwed.)
The last ten minutes was spent on a cranial debate on whether a fagotti is a trumpet or a trombone. (I later realised it was neither. It was, in fact, not even a brass instrument.)
The ultimate misery? The Gee song looped fifty times in my head. By the second hour it was accompanied with images of PMS dancing the Euro dance. (This been said, I wonder why I am buffering yet another Xman video in the neighbouring tab -__-)
Anyway I was so traumatised I slept immediately when I got home.
This shall never never never happen again. God forbid. (While I imply moral decay amongst my belongings, I do understand it was my fault entirely T_T)
P.S. I had a traumatising dream in my sleep too. I can only say it involves a song and IC guys and Fahrenheit. More on it next time~
I reached there on the dot and was the last to enter the examination venue. I was asked to produce the entry proof and omgwth it wasn't in my bag. Took me fifteen minutes to retrace my steps, disturb someone's toilet affair and retrieve the uncooperative piece of paper. (It was sitting nonchalantly on top of the sanitary bin.)
The label, the one with my name on it, was defiant too. Apparently I must have dropped it in my bag or at home or in school or whatever. Anyway, it certainly wasn't with me, so I had to take a few minutes off to fill in an "Anomalies during Examination" form. The examiner wasn't happy.
My mechanical pencils? A bunch of insurgents. The green one had about 4mm of lead left. The purple had but a miserly (but still of some utility) 1.4cm of lead in it. It's akin to a time-bomb. I had to ration out the use of pencil over the five questions. (I ran out by the time I got to checking my answers, so I had to resort to holding lead between my fingernails. Eww.)
Question 2 hated me. I redid the question twice. (Which also equates to waste of lead.)
Question 4 and 5, with some optimism, wasn't a German extract. Oh yes. The Italian term I was tested was this:
pochettino piu mosso
Three fairly common Italian words. I knew all three, certainly. BUT.
Pochettino means very little.
Piu means more.
Under all schools of thought (except Zen and yoga and the like), something less is never more. Never ever.
(Anyway I settled for "a little bit more movement". Screwed.)
The last ten minutes was spent on a cranial debate on whether a fagotti is a trumpet or a trombone. (I later realised it was neither. It was, in fact, not even a brass instrument.)
The ultimate misery? The Gee song looped fifty times in my head. By the second hour it was accompanied with images of PMS dancing the Euro dance. (This been said, I wonder why I am buffering yet another Xman video in the neighbouring tab -__-)
Anyway I was so traumatised I slept immediately when I got home.
This shall never never never happen again. God forbid. (While I imply moral decay amongst my belongings, I do understand it was my fault entirely T_T)
P.S. I had a traumatising dream in my sleep too. I can only say it involves a song and IC guys and Fahrenheit. More on it next time~
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
ah, I don't get it again
Me - headache and an exceptionally acrid mood.
Today was a day of constant crossfire, with me firing pellets of "engineers work like hell and earn like shit!", and my opponent discharging rounds of "yar, lose face when all your peers drive larger cars than you do!".
Any passing remark (even on who gets to eat the mushroom curry puff) gets taken to be a caustic retort to godknowswhat and develops into a bout of toldja-so! and I'm-right-you-suck! and the like. Both parties claimed to be oracular and flung about visions of the glorious life (my side: of jetting to goodnessknowswhere everyday on the pretext of requirement; her side: of earning big bucks for doing nearly nothing and living in a condo and driving a posher car than anyone else).
If you listen to me, each will say, all these and more can be real. So we say.
need a break
Today was a day of constant crossfire, with me firing pellets of "engineers work like hell and earn like shit!", and my opponent discharging rounds of "yar, lose face when all your peers drive larger cars than you do!".
Any passing remark (even on who gets to eat the mushroom curry puff) gets taken to be a caustic retort to godknowswhat and develops into a bout of toldja-so! and I'm-right-you-suck! and the like. Both parties claimed to be oracular and flung about visions of the glorious life (my side: of jetting to goodnessknowswhere everyday on the pretext of requirement; her side: of earning big bucks for doing nearly nothing and living in a condo and driving a posher car than anyone else).
If you listen to me, each will say, all these and more can be real. So we say.
need a break
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
ah, I get it now
How this blatant truth had eluded me for the past 18 years is atrocious.
My naivety was appalling, wasn't it? 18 years of a life with no worries for lack of material necessities made me a disgusting snob who believed herself to be advocating for love of life in her incessant wish to go against the mainstream culture (in a call to be "true to one's self").
But that me is no more. I understand now.
Worrying about personal interest is but an intensively selfish obstinacy. I thought I could, but it was only 'cause I saw none of the society's cruel but valid circumstances. My sheltered life permits no such view. As of yet I still see none. But it's there.
I still have choices though, to pander to my egocentric need to have freedom (in modern days, a desire that's nothing but pop culture's romanticism).
I can do law, or bioengineering. I can choose a double degree if I want to.
My parents were so happy when I told them of this. It made me happy ... kind of.
My naivety was appalling, wasn't it? 18 years of a life with no worries for lack of material necessities made me a disgusting snob who believed herself to be advocating for love of life in her incessant wish to go against the mainstream culture (in a call to be "true to one's self").
But that me is no more. I understand now.
Worrying about personal interest is but an intensively selfish obstinacy. I thought I could, but it was only 'cause I saw none of the society's cruel but valid circumstances. My sheltered life permits no such view. As of yet I still see none. But it's there.
I still have choices though, to pander to my egocentric need to have freedom (in modern days, a desire that's nothing but pop culture's romanticism).
I can do law, or bioengineering. I can choose a double degree if I want to.
My parents were so happy when I told them of this. It made me happy ... kind of.
Monday, March 2, 2009
when I'm not the first to think of it
The idea spawned and consumed me in an instant.
The spark came when I missed out one double-u in www.blogspot.com, and I was directed to this blog in a language my computer can't read. That aside, isn't it novel to have an address like that - ww.blogspot.com?
So I thought, I would like wwww.blogspot.com, but it was taken by this deeply philosophical random Iranian blogger.
wwwww.blogspot.com was seized by a Mexican (I think) who shares my fondness for parenthesises. (Pardon the irony.)
wwwwww.blogspot.com and wwwwwww.blogspot.com were adopted and forgotten, for they were but "experiments". They have horrible camo-green colour schemes. The same sucker took wwwwwwwwww.blogspot.com too, but at least there were characters on it. I refuse to acknowledge that stuf lik tis cn b counted as wordz ... neva ... neva wif mi
(disclaimer: this is personal opinion, not judgement of any kind. huan cannot be held liable)
And I spent the next fifteen minutes on a crusade of [w X x-variable] blog-hopping, encountering anything from proper blogs (wwwwwwwwwww.blogspot.com, that of a Japanese student who obviously owns this blog as a practice pad for English) to utter nonsense wwwwwwwwwwww.blogspot.com, I like cheese too but I like your blog's name more).
There are loads of bloggers out there. Anywhere imaginable. (That's the mandatory cheesy realisation of a mature blogger.)
Anyway I've safely established that if I want a like blog name, I'll have to go for
[breathes] wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.blogspot.com
The sad thing is, that exceeds the character-limit by one wubby lousy double-u. That's my spate of luck in recent hours, but I'll like to say with feigned optimism - I'm using up all my bad luck! YahoO! By a stretch of fallible logic, maybe I'm subconsciously accumulating my fair fortunes for the day that wilt maketh me. That fifth day of the moon. Whither shalt I go? Methinks, an I wert bright, I wilt go hither. Withal aplomb, I shalt go.
The spark came when I missed out one double-u in www.blogspot.com, and I was directed to this blog in a language my computer can't read. That aside, isn't it novel to have an address like that - ww.blogspot.com?
So I thought, I would like wwww.blogspot.com, but it was taken by this deeply philosophical random Iranian blogger.
wwwww.blogspot.com was seized by a Mexican (I think) who shares my fondness for parenthesises. (Pardon the irony.)
wwwwww.blogspot.com and wwwwwww.blogspot.com were adopted and forgotten, for they were but "experiments". They have horrible camo-green colour schemes. The same sucker took wwwwwwwwww.blogspot.com too, but at least there were characters on it. I refuse to acknowledge that stuf lik tis cn b counted as wordz ... neva ... neva wif mi
(disclaimer: this is personal opinion, not judgement of any kind. huan cannot be held liable)
And I spent the next fifteen minutes on a crusade of [w X x-variable] blog-hopping, encountering anything from proper blogs (wwwwwwwwwww.blogspot.com, that of a Japanese student who obviously owns this blog as a practice pad for English) to utter nonsense wwwwwwwwwwww.blogspot.com, I like cheese too but I like your blog's name more).
There are loads of bloggers out there. Anywhere imaginable. (That's the mandatory cheesy realisation of a mature blogger.)
Anyway I've safely established that if I want a like blog name, I'll have to go for
[breathes] wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.blogspot.com
The sad thing is, that exceeds the character-limit by one wubby lousy double-u. That's my spate of luck in recent hours, but I'll like to say with feigned optimism - I'm using up all my bad luck! YahoO! By a stretch of fallible logic, maybe I'm subconsciously accumulating my fair fortunes for the day that wilt maketh me. That fifth day of the moon. Whither shalt I go? Methinks, an I wert bright, I wilt go hither. Withal aplomb, I shalt go.
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