August 2008

So I went shopping with Kyle and Nic and Yiwei (and at some point a very useless Zhe Xian) for Ferd’s teacher’s day present. Man, finding a present is tough. We’re terrible at it. Took us hours and hours of trawling various shops before we managed to find him worthy gifts. Terrible. One of the shops we browsed was Zara, and it actually has pretty cool stuff – mind this is the first time I’ve ever set foot in Zara. No, seriously. But while I was looking around for stuff, I couldn’t help observing the people in the shop, along with the various items for sale and, inevitably, passing judgments. Now undoubtedly there is some pretty cool stuff in Zara – I’m a big fan of some of their jackets…In fact I’d buy one of those jackets just for the metal logo sewn into the collar. Yes, it was so cool that they didn’t even need to place it in an easily displayable position for it to be cool. The jacket reeked coolness. In fact, I guess it looks better when it’s not you know, actually being worn, and instead just displayed somewhere to show people how cool you are. Which brings me to my real point: I felt distinctly uncool and out of place in Zara. I think they should really put a sign outside saying something like: You must be this fashionable in order to enter (In the style of the movie kids admissions signs). It was only this year that I had any form of wardrobe Renaissance – my wardrobe is still overwhelmingly mommish. It’s clearly a place I don’t belong in….I still want a leather jacket though….

Firstly, I’ve totally fallen in love with Pushing Daisies. It’s an awesome show with a strong fairytale vibe. It’s like Scrubs, only the entire show is JD’s fantasy. It’s honestly so awesome that I’d probably be hard pressed now to decide whether I like this or Scrubs more. The light hearted presentation is just so charming and it makes me want to abandon this world and live in theirs. But then again, what good show doesn’t make you feel that way? (Horror movies of course excluded – unless you have a penchant for fighting for your life against totally unfair odds)

In other movie watching news, Machine Girl is also quite an awesome show. Awesome in the sense that the violence is so over the top that it’s ridiculous, and it’s so ridiculous that it’s terrible, and it’s so terrible that it’s brilliant again. It’s a show for watching with a group of friends, and you’ll burst out laughing in unison every…30 seconds or so. Comedy writers must feel pretty pissed off when shows like this emerge – I mean they spend their lives bleeding over scripts that may or may not be funny, and get lambasted for boring scripts when a complete dunce can come along and write a script as cheesy as this and fill it with bloodspray fountains that look more appropriate as fire sprinklers (except that the latter spouts colorless water). With a show like this, honestly, who cares about the plot?

Girl (I don’t even know her name!): Recognize this? You and your bullies killed my brother!
Bully: …I don’t know what you’re talking about
Girl: Well it doesn’t matter. Pretty soon you’ll all join him….IN HELL
*Slices guy’s arm off and proceeds to mow them down with a chaingun attached to hand*

Lastly, it seems that film cameras are really, really old school. Well, Leicas at least. Either that or I have a more mischievous reputation than I thought I did. As I’ve been running around school lately shooting on my grandfather’s Leica R6, an odd thing has been happening. No less than 3 times now, when I attempted to take a picture of someone, he ducked out of the way for variations of the following reason:

Me: What?! It’s just a film camera!
Guy: Oh? I thought like a snake or something will fly out at me.

No, seriously.

I’m also pissed as heck since the last roll of film I shot got jammed in the camera and thus not a single picture was captured at all. Talk about a waste of time and money. Well, tomorrow’ll be the last time I bring out the Leica, and I’ll try to finish the roll within the day. After which I’ll stick to the DSLR for the foreseeable future due to it’s spamming and previewing capabilities. The modern photographer in me yearns for these features which I’ve been so deprived of lately.

Today during Chapel, they mentioned that Teacher’s day is coming up this friday. Me in my half conscious state absorbed this bit of information, but it meant nothing initially. Five minutes later, realization hit me like a pile of bricks dropped from 40 storeys up as a result of a careless construction worker who had decided to leave a 1 ton stack of them balanced precariously on the edge of the still wall-less building. The absent minded worker just wandered off for lunch when another worker carelessly backed into it with a tractor, causing most of the pile to fall upon the hapless student walking beneath. But enough about that. I dream too much. Now most people would think that this sudden awakening would be regarding the fact that the prelims which once seemed so distant now looms a mere 2 weeks away. Nah. Trivial matter. This is far more important.

THIS IS THE LAST PROPER WEEK OF SCHOOL FOR ME. EVER. It’s the end of an era. 12 years spent in ACS, 6 of them at 121 dover road with the same routine of getting up at 6:30am and cursing my way to school, followed by the daily allotment of lessons. This all comes to a close in 4 days time. When it hit me, I was temporarily transformed into one of those doomsday priests you see in movies preaching about Armageddon on the streets. Clearly some people are less affected by it than I am. Either way, I’m bringing my camera every single day of this week. I suppose it’s kind of a las ditch effort to scrape together as many memories as I can on a medium, but it’s better than nothing.

Reflecting on the 6 year’s I’ve spent in school though, I can honestly say that it’s been a helluva run. I’ve reached most of the goals I’ve laid out for myself, and it’s been an awesome time. That’s the two line version – I’ve done too many DRQs to do a proper reminiscence now. That’s for next week.

Need I explain?

Drama partaayyy…You know, nobody actually celebrated any drama thing tonight. The closest thing that came to a drama remembrance was a screening of the SYF recording which everybody ignored totally. Oh well. It was fun nonetheless. Also of alcohol limits – I think I came pretty close tonight.

Elliot Tan says:
jim bean any good?
Mong The Legends History shall be kind to me – for I intend to write it says:
yeah
Mong The Legends History shall be kind to me – for I intend to write it says:
nicer than vodka
Mong The Legends History shall be kind to me – for I intend to write it says:
because it doesn’t taste like ethanol
Mong The Legends History shall be kind to me – for I intend to write it says:
whoahohoaoa
Elliot Tan says:
haha really?
Mong The Legends History shall be kind to me – for I intend to write it says:
yeah
Elliot Tan says:
the one you bought
Mong The Legends History shall be kind to me – for I intend to write it says:
i suppose it goes best with cock

I meant to say coke. Of Freudian slips. Oh well. Slightly tipsy now. I should start my preparation for prelims from tomorrow. I mean it. Hopefully. Nyahhh. Huzzah!

4 hours of Chem and Math tuition back to back, followed by a drama post production party. Alliteration. I might die. If I die, you may not have my computer. You may not have my camera. But you could help yourself to the leftover vodka.

I’ll clear it…some…day….

Oh yeah, IOC is over. The demon which I’ve wrestled with for so long – Staying back in school until 10pm, pouring over King Lear trying to find obscure links that may or may not exist. Evidence of Lear’s allegedly incestuous inclinations towards Cordelia. The parallel of Edmund to Shylock in The Merchant of Venice . Yadda yadda. I’ve been so affected by IOC that now I keep noticing repetition, rhyming, plosives, sibilance, cacophonics, alliteration and symbols in everything I read. I am also convinced that if you look at something for long enough, you can relate it to almost anything you want. Somehow. I’m fairly certain that 80% of the links we find while mugging for King Lear during IOC were never actually intended by Shakespeare. He must be looking down at us now feeling like a god.

Shakespeare: King Lear….Incestuous? Whoa…400 years and I’ve never thought of it that way. I’m goooooood

Anyhoo, IOC went pretty well – much better than I imagined it would. I got Apologia Pro Poemate Meo, which was somewhat disappointing. Mostly because I had studied so hard for King Lear and 12th Night, and was positively certain I could link the hell out of any extract that came from either. Nonetheless it wasn’t a bad extract to get – and I thank Jeanette for that. The night before she quizzed me about the poem and that lead me to read up more about it and I found alot of “bonus” information which impressed the hell out of Paul Tan. The actual IOC was a bit hair raising as the stopwatch wouldn’t start after Paul Tan started the recording, which lead to me silently screaming out to him that it wasn’t working, to which he replied by swapping out stopwatches. Also, prior to the actual presentation, I hadn’t really annotated as much as I would have liked to. As a result I was afraid I either wouldn’t have enough to say, or I wouldn’t be able to organize it properly. This also meant that during the presentation I came up with alot of my points impromptu, and what was (I felt) a slightly messy commentary. However Paul Tan seemed genuinely impressed for some reason. Score.

Now that IOC is done, it’s time to partay a bit before I hunker down into prelims mode. Suki Sushi buffet ftw! It’s a brilliant thing to be in a tight class – I gander that our class gatherings easily double that of most classes. I guess this’ll be the (close to) final hurrah before we *really* get down to studying for the IB exams. Mein gott.

In other news, I’ve gotten all of my shirts! Huzzah! (Kyle hates me using that word for some reason, so huzzah huzzah huzzah huzzah huzzah huzzah huzzah huzzah huzzah!) Now I have an disproportionate amount shirts compared to pants. Shall need to go shopping for those someday… But no more shirts for at least the next 10 or 20 years for me.

Alright gotta run for a sushi buffet.

Huzzah.

IOC’s on wednesday, and only the poems remain until I finish my coverage of the extracts! Come on boy! Come on!

On a related note, I tried practicing and recording myself to hear how I sound like while presenting the extracts. Good god that’s painful. So pausey and hesitant and inundated with “um”. Roar.

Well, in spite of IOC being just around the corner next week, life is actually pretty good. I’ve been mugging like a mad dog for IOC, staying back in school until 10pm on some days, but the odd thing is that I’m actually coming to start liking this process. The discussions on the dramatic effects of the various plots and stuff is all pretty enlightening and extremely interesting at times. With some of the points that are being made and tossed about, I honestly feel as though I’m on some form of academic frontier – a naive thought I know, but hey to be young and optimistic: the world is your oyster and all that jazz. You can’t help but visualize some of the scenes actually being played out on stage (what am I talking about..you’re supposed to. But I meant in a good kinda way – the personal interest kinda way), and it’s pretty exhilarating to see in your mind’s eye the various dramatic effects having a pertinent bearing on the way the play is perceived by the audience (use of plosives, ha!). I suppose one of the reasons why I’m so chirpy on this subject is because I’ve been making some pretty good progress on King Lear, and should finish the text more or less by tomorrow, upon which I can commence rehearsing.

In addition to the good tidings of my IOC progress (at least I hope so), my spirits have also been buoyed by the arrival of some shirts I’ve ordered from Busted Tees. In addition I managed to snag a shirt from Threadless seconds before it was sold out, and all my orders should be in by next week. I suppose there is some inkling of truth in the claimed benefits of retail therapy. Of course that is said in a totally and completely manly way, and in no way effeminate or homosexual. Hoo ha.