I’m having a headache once again so I postponed my tuition, giving me enough time to blog twice in a day and to watch Fiona Xie once again bubbling around with her big boobs.
I can’t proceed on with my research for this [deleted] assignment. I thought I could do it, but all the questions had me stumped. I am given a choice of three questions. All of which requires me to read the textbook.
The only problem is, I do not have the textbook.
Some of my friends were puzzled at me doing assignment when I’m supposedly no longer studying. My MSN name reads, “Jolene is bz doing assignment. Unethical assignment.” That’s because I’ve got this lobang to do assignments and I get paid for it.
[The following paragraph has been deleted by the author.]
I thought it was a really good way to put my intelligence into good use. On the other hand, Kh thought it was an insidious art of encouraging indolence and dishonesty. I could not care much about ethics when I’m actually paid to be unethical.
Joel told me that my name is read “Jolene is bz doing ass…” on his MSN messenger window. I think he should either resize his pop up window or shut up, although I think he gets the kick out of seeing Jolene bz doing ass. He is such an ass.
Kh spoilt his $375 Oakley sunglasses today. How it happened I would not reveal here, for it would only reflect his stupidity and carelessness. Just a few weeks ago, he was imitating my “Gmail Account Holders Are Cool” entry with his rendition of “Oakley Sunglass Wearers Are Cool”. I should start writing one entry on “Oakley Sunglass Wearers Are Fools”. Ok I should stop being a bitch.
Now did I use “rendition” correctly?
I just turned away from my computer to look at Fiona Xie on tv. Though still acting cute unceasingly, her acting has certainly improved and her irritation index, I call it the irridex (after Doxey’s irridex model), has dropped to 9 on a scale of 10.
Oh somebody actually found my blog when he typed “Fiona Xie breast size” on Yahoo search engine today. Just on Wednesday, someone searched for "Fiona Xie Boobs". I don't know if they are the same person. So many people are interested in her boobs? Anyway, I assume it is a he, although I admit that many females are also interested in her boobs as well. They are mainly interested in whether they are real or not while the guys would be interested in finding out the size. Hey you Fiona-xie-boobs-searcher! Search no more! There won't be any other site which reveals her size. If you happen to read this, let me tell you that her boobs size is 32D.
You are welcome! =)
Another person got to my blog when he was searching for Tammin Sursok’s boobs. Unfortunately, I do not have any inside info on her boob size. Sorry mate.
My headache has miraculously subsided!
Friday, July 30, 2004
Four and a Half Year and Still Without a License to Drive
A few incidents happened last evening which made me desire to learn driving and to avoid amateur cab drivers.
With a car,
--> I would not have to wait a whole 37 minutes for 852 (and still not appearing) along Bukit Timah Road and be half an hour late for my tuition.
--> I would not have to hop onto a non-direct bus 74 just to inch nearer to my destination.
--> I would not have to alight at Ang Mo Kio to flag a cab to Yishun, only to witness two 852s arriving simultaneously.
--> I would not have to be frantically trying to flag for a cab only to be greeted by bright red “HIRED” blaring cabs.
--> I would not have to look frenzied under the slight drizzle by the road.
--> I would not have to get onto a cab driven by an amateur Indian,
driving at 60km/hr…
on the congested middle lane…
with at least a 10-metre distance to the car in front…
with the right lane virtually empty…
attempting only to switch to the right lane when vehicles are whizzing past…
getting overtaken and cut in by at least 5 whizzing vehicles…
after which the faithful 10-metre distance continued.
--> I would not have to be rude and say, “Can you please keep to the right? There isn’t any cars whizzing past now, that lane is much faster and I’m late! Thank you very much!”
--> I would not have to curse silently when after keeping to the right lane, the speed of 60km/hr was religiously maintained.
All these were enough to convince me to learn driving or to at least have someone to chauffeur me around.
With a car,
--> I would not have to wait a whole 37 minutes for 852 (and still not appearing) along Bukit Timah Road and be half an hour late for my tuition.
--> I would not have to hop onto a non-direct bus 74 just to inch nearer to my destination.
--> I would not have to alight at Ang Mo Kio to flag a cab to Yishun, only to witness two 852s arriving simultaneously.
--> I would not have to be frantically trying to flag for a cab only to be greeted by bright red “HIRED” blaring cabs.
--> I would not have to look frenzied under the slight drizzle by the road.
--> I would not have to get onto a cab driven by an amateur Indian,
driving at 60km/hr…
on the congested middle lane…
with at least a 10-metre distance to the car in front…
with the right lane virtually empty…
attempting only to switch to the right lane when vehicles are whizzing past…
getting overtaken and cut in by at least 5 whizzing vehicles…
after which the faithful 10-metre distance continued.
--> I would not have to be rude and say, “Can you please keep to the right? There isn’t any cars whizzing past now, that lane is much faster and I’m late! Thank you very much!”
--> I would not have to curse silently when after keeping to the right lane, the speed of 60km/hr was religiously maintained.
All these were enough to convince me to learn driving or to at least have someone to chauffeur me around.
Thursday, July 29, 2004
“So when are you getting married?”
Was the question posed by all who I have met recently. It has since joined the rank of everyday questions like “Chi1 bao3 le4 mei2 you3?” (Translated: Have you eaten?), “The weather is fine today eh?”, “So what have you been doing lately?”, “Jia1 li3 sheng1 ji3 ge4 xiao3 gou3 liao3?” (Translated: How many puppies have your dog given birth to?)
I swear it is a relishing sight for all my friends to scrutinize my expressionless face upon hearing that question.
First it was Evan. But that gal has been asking me that question ever since year 1 in NUS. “When are you getting ROM-ed?” (ROM-ed is a new abbreviation coined by linking the present perfect tense suffix “-ed” to the abbreviation ROM, which all of you would have known, means the Registry of Marriage. This is actually ungrammatical. The Registry of Marriage is a noun and you cannot present-perfect-tense a noun. For example, you cannot have words such as “cabinetted”. You cannot say “Mr Lee Kuan Yew announced that he will be cabinetted in an advisory role when his son becomes Prime Minister on August 12”. Everyone is using ROM as a verb now and in this society, nobody cares much about grammar, not even an English major like Evan, especially when she gets all so excited about me getting ROM-ed.) She would pop that question constantly when we were on the bus, when we were chatting using scraps of paper during lectures, when we were in the midst of project discussion, when we were shopping, when we were looking at toys and pretty little kids’ clothes, when we were in the loo… … She simply can’t wait to attend a friend’s wedding dinner.
Then there was Cynthia, the mother of my godson. I visited her and my cute godson one fine day in May or June this year and she popped that question too. And then her confinement nanny had to enter the room and asked in mandarin if I was married. I was stumped. More of pleasantly stumped. On so many different occasions, people have asked if I was 18 or if I was from Poly. Some even thought I would have been in secondary school, if not for the colour of my hair (which often led to me cursing at these people silently.) Finally! I have someone asking me if I’m married. I don’t know if this calls for a celebration for looking my age. Anyway, while all these were whizzing through my jumbled mind, Cynthia answered in my stead. “Hai2 mei2 you3. Ke3 shi4 kuai4 yao4 jie2 hun1 liao3.” (Translated: Not yet, but going to.) She dictates my future for me!
Next, was kh’s group of friends. (I’ve since decided to revert back to typing “kh” as that is how I always address him in print, and also I feel that I have disgusted you people enough =P.) Different individuals from that group has asked the same question, all within a night’s outing. One of his friends even professed that since pilots do not need as much time as ordinary folks to be financially stable, they might just as well get married and have kids. The manner in which she uttered it in Mandarin was really hilarious. It sounded like it is a truth universally acknowledged that a pilot in possession of a girlfriend, must be in want of a wife and children. (If this sounds very familiar to you, it is because I parodied the infamous opening sentence of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.)
Recently, his pilot friends have been asking the same question too. They had this gathering at somebody’s place and the couple of the house has a very cute and highly intelligent 2-year-old son and a beautiful 9-month-old daughter. So while the mum was busy being a good hostess, I had to carry the baby girl constantly as only then will her crying cease. I even answered the door whenever the doorbell rang, armed with the baby and inviting shocked looks from his friends. All these happened with kh busying himself with “dry swimming” in the other room. Then, when the maid took over carrying the girl, I played with the cute and intelligent boy instead. He is soooooooo intelligent, he knows that dolphin is “hai3 tun2”, octopus is “ba1 jiao3 yu2”, crab is “pang2 xie” and lobster is “long2 xia1”. He is also a very obedient boy, very well brought up by his parents. Then finally at night, kh and me played with the boy, entertaining him with our kiddish antics and of course fuelling more of such questions from everybody in the house.
Not to mention, his granny, his uncles, his aunts, his cousins from both sides asked the same question too. Even his mum!
And yesterday while I was out with Charlene happily eating my lunch, she popped the same question. She asked it in such a matter-of-fact tone that I almost thought she was asking me if the food tastes good.
This question has since become commonplace in my world.
I swear it is a relishing sight for all my friends to scrutinize my expressionless face upon hearing that question.
First it was Evan. But that gal has been asking me that question ever since year 1 in NUS. “When are you getting ROM-ed?” (ROM-ed is a new abbreviation coined by linking the present perfect tense suffix “-ed” to the abbreviation ROM, which all of you would have known, means the Registry of Marriage. This is actually ungrammatical. The Registry of Marriage is a noun and you cannot present-perfect-tense a noun. For example, you cannot have words such as “cabinetted”. You cannot say “Mr Lee Kuan Yew announced that he will be cabinetted in an advisory role when his son becomes Prime Minister on August 12”. Everyone is using ROM as a verb now and in this society, nobody cares much about grammar, not even an English major like Evan, especially when she gets all so excited about me getting ROM-ed.) She would pop that question constantly when we were on the bus, when we were chatting using scraps of paper during lectures, when we were in the midst of project discussion, when we were shopping, when we were looking at toys and pretty little kids’ clothes, when we were in the loo… … She simply can’t wait to attend a friend’s wedding dinner.
Then there was Cynthia, the mother of my godson. I visited her and my cute godson one fine day in May or June this year and she popped that question too. And then her confinement nanny had to enter the room and asked in mandarin if I was married. I was stumped. More of pleasantly stumped. On so many different occasions, people have asked if I was 18 or if I was from Poly. Some even thought I would have been in secondary school, if not for the colour of my hair (which often led to me cursing at these people silently.) Finally! I have someone asking me if I’m married. I don’t know if this calls for a celebration for looking my age. Anyway, while all these were whizzing through my jumbled mind, Cynthia answered in my stead. “Hai2 mei2 you3. Ke3 shi4 kuai4 yao4 jie2 hun1 liao3.” (Translated: Not yet, but going to.) She dictates my future for me!
Next, was kh’s group of friends. (I’ve since decided to revert back to typing “kh” as that is how I always address him in print, and also I feel that I have disgusted you people enough =P.) Different individuals from that group has asked the same question, all within a night’s outing. One of his friends even professed that since pilots do not need as much time as ordinary folks to be financially stable, they might just as well get married and have kids. The manner in which she uttered it in Mandarin was really hilarious. It sounded like it is a truth universally acknowledged that a pilot in possession of a girlfriend, must be in want of a wife and children. (If this sounds very familiar to you, it is because I parodied the infamous opening sentence of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.)
Recently, his pilot friends have been asking the same question too. They had this gathering at somebody’s place and the couple of the house has a very cute and highly intelligent 2-year-old son and a beautiful 9-month-old daughter. So while the mum was busy being a good hostess, I had to carry the baby girl constantly as only then will her crying cease. I even answered the door whenever the doorbell rang, armed with the baby and inviting shocked looks from his friends. All these happened with kh busying himself with “dry swimming” in the other room. Then, when the maid took over carrying the girl, I played with the cute and intelligent boy instead. He is soooooooo intelligent, he knows that dolphin is “hai3 tun2”, octopus is “ba1 jiao3 yu2”, crab is “pang2 xie” and lobster is “long2 xia1”. He is also a very obedient boy, very well brought up by his parents. Then finally at night, kh and me played with the boy, entertaining him with our kiddish antics and of course fuelling more of such questions from everybody in the house.
Not to mention, his granny, his uncles, his aunts, his cousins from both sides asked the same question too. Even his mum!
And yesterday while I was out with Charlene happily eating my lunch, she popped the same question. She asked it in such a matter-of-fact tone that I almost thought she was asking me if the food tastes good.
This question has since become commonplace in my world.
Friday, July 23, 2004
Being Bimbotic
Two nights ago when I was sitting in front of this screen, miserably blowing my nose off and minding my own business, Regina popped by to say hello on MSN. We half chatted, half surfed and half watched Fiona Xie bubbling around with her big boobs in the 9pm show. Ok, I was doing all that. I don’t know what the other girl was multi-tasking. She probably, half chatted, half surfed, half watched Fiona Xie bubbling around with her big boobs and did a whole lot more like listening to sensual dance music, gyrating her body in accordance to the tune, slapping on moisturizer on her body, slathering her face with mask, painting her nails bubblegum pink and doing all other bimbotic acts she always claims she does and of course, nagging at me.
We were chatting happily until she nagged at me to take care, to off the computer, to go to sleep. I happily ignored her. I happily ignore all advice to get well from everybody, responding with “orh…” to statements like “Drink more water”, “Drink honey” “Go and see a doctor for goodness sake”, “You should rest more”, “You should sleep”… … the list goes on.
And then she let out her most bimbotic cry, “You are ignoring me!” and her next sentence was “I’m writing about how sick and stubborn you are.” For a moment, I was astonished. Write about me on where? It turned out she wrote about me on her blog! Now, my stubbornness has been published, imprinted, sealed and congealed on her blog. I cursed and swear at her (without her knowledge of course, though after she reads this, it will be with her knowledge). I finally managed to read that entry today.
And all of a sudden, I morphed into a Regina (read: bimbo) and beamed at her compliments paid to my hair.
Still assuming the role of a bimbo, I squeal for her to hear: “Oh thank you sweetie! Being the politically correct you [Aside: for once], after writing about my stubbornness, you had the good sense to butter me up in the next paragraph. Henceforth, I shall forgive you for defaming me on your blog.
By the way,aren't you honoured that this entire post is more or less about you? =P
Ok, i'm still under the guise of a bimbo. It's fun to be a bimbo at times. You can wave and go "Yoo hoo" and blow kisses without feeling dotterel.
Oopsy Daisy!!! I'm running late for my tuition. I have better rush to apply my lancome foundation, my M.A.C pink eyeshadow, my YSL mascara, my i nuovi blusher and my Stila lip glaze, to slip on my pink Christian Dior top themed with my This Fashion white capri. I utter all these with my palms cupping both sides of my face.
We were chatting happily until she nagged at me to take care, to off the computer, to go to sleep. I happily ignored her. I happily ignore all advice to get well from everybody, responding with “orh…” to statements like “Drink more water”, “Drink honey” “Go and see a doctor for goodness sake”, “You should rest more”, “You should sleep”… … the list goes on.
And then she let out her most bimbotic cry, “You are ignoring me!” and her next sentence was “I’m writing about how sick and stubborn you are.” For a moment, I was astonished. Write about me on where? It turned out she wrote about me on her blog! Now, my stubbornness has been published, imprinted, sealed and congealed on her blog. I cursed and swear at her (without her knowledge of course, though after she reads this, it will be with her knowledge). I finally managed to read that entry today.
And all of a sudden, I morphed into a Regina (read: bimbo) and beamed at her compliments paid to my hair.
Still assuming the role of a bimbo, I squeal for her to hear: “Oh thank you sweetie! Being the politically correct you [Aside: for once], after writing about my stubbornness, you had the good sense to butter me up in the next paragraph. Henceforth, I shall forgive you for defaming me on your blog.
By the way,aren't you honoured that this entire post is more or less about you? =P
Ok, i'm still under the guise of a bimbo. It's fun to be a bimbo at times. You can wave and go "Yoo hoo" and blow kisses without feeling dotterel.
Oopsy Daisy!!! I'm running late for my tuition. I have better rush to apply my lancome foundation, my M.A.C pink eyeshadow, my YSL mascara, my i nuovi blusher and my Stila lip glaze, to slip on my pink Christian Dior top themed with my This Fashion white capri. I utter all these with my palms cupping both sides of my face.
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
Emotionally Empty. Physically Sick. Mentally Well-informed
He flew off for Australia… yet again. Last night felt like any normal night. I was smiling and bidding him good-bye, just like how I did the last time he flew off because at that time I was so overwhelmed with school work and tuition that his absence would enable me to devote more time to my studies. This time, I don’t feel a sense of loss or cheerlessness. There is this feeling of emptiness of course, but I’ve since grown accustomed to his perpetual absence that I don’t cry at airports anymore. The next time I see him would be next February or March, although I pray that he can come back this December.
I’m sick. Not lovesick but sick-sick. I’m blowing basketful of tissue paper, coughing my lungs out and cringing each time I swallow due to my bad throat. I don’t sound sexy or raspy. In fact, I sound like I’ve been crying the whole day. Talking is a strenuous task for me, as I have to juggle between breathing and coughing. I know many of you will thank God for shutting my mouth, but alas, u can’t escape my constant chattering on MSN.
I hate having the flu as I will not be able to chatter like usual. I hate having the flu as I have to constantly blow my nose and end up like Rudolph. I hate having the flu as my nose feels very stuffy and dirty that I have to “wash” it leading to peels around the skin at times. Most of all, I hate having the flu as I will not be able to savour my food. The best part of my flu was that I could stay home the whole day.
The past few days I felt very stupid. I was too busy to read the newspapers and I absolutely hate that feeling of not knowing what’s happening around me. Dr Tony Tan once said that we would miss a lot in life if we do not read. I totally agree with him.
And so, I stayed at home the whole day and felt very intellectual as I managed to scan through the past 7 days pile of The Straits Times.
I learnt that the term “hoe” means “whore” and “ho-wop” is a new kind of music.
The Dreamers, which was rated R21, has two scenes reduced in the version screened in Singapore. What’s the use of the R21 then? I wonder if there would be a fiery debate on film censorship and rating yet again after the fiery lashing of DPM Lee Hsien Loong’s visit to Taiwan.
I learnt that a storm was brewing in China as regions accused each other of stealing clouds and also learnt from Bucky in Get Fuzzy that you can rewrite history by not trusting liberal media and by resorting to figuring stuff out yourself such that I can declare that the manufacturers of FEB (the cold tablet) have been sued by a magnate on 21 July 2004 for not delivering any results.
I also discovered that Sex and the City has finally hit our local screens on Friday 16 July. It is the clean version though, so clean that even breast-feeding scenes have been cut. Hasn’t there been a debate regarding public breast-feeding in Singapore recently?
I stumbled across this small article which states that Australia is attracting more Asian foreign students than ever in history. I longed to be one of those students.
The latest celebrity accessory to carry is not a poodle in the bag but a bump on the tummy with ever-elegant celebrities strutting the red carpet and proudly showing off their hump, I meant, bump in beautiful maternity gowns. I long to be a beautiful mother in future too. But alas I do not look like Heidi Klum, Gwyneth Paltrow or Kate Hudson.
The United Nations human development index ranks Singapore as 25th in the list of world’s best places to live. I don’t know what is the yardstick of measurement and hence cannot comment on it.
I learnt that 12 August 2004 is the date for DPM Lee to take over as PM. I can’t miss this information as it was on the headlines on Sunday.
There was an article on babies and pets. It wrote about couples getting rid of their pets when their babies arrive. Experts assert that such a move is not necessary and may be unwise even. I henceforth declare myself an expert. On Saturday, I visited this very beautiful resort looking home of this very beautiful couple with two very beautiful babies. They have three very beautiful cats and one of the guests brought her dog. All of us stroke cats, ruffled dog’s fur and caress babies without washing our hands at all. We did not think it mattered and even the parents said it was perfectly alright.
Finally there was this rumour that William Hung is dead. It was clarified the next day that he is still very much alive and banging.
I would have missed so much within that span of time if I had not read the newspapers.
I’m sick. Not lovesick but sick-sick. I’m blowing basketful of tissue paper, coughing my lungs out and cringing each time I swallow due to my bad throat. I don’t sound sexy or raspy. In fact, I sound like I’ve been crying the whole day. Talking is a strenuous task for me, as I have to juggle between breathing and coughing. I know many of you will thank God for shutting my mouth, but alas, u can’t escape my constant chattering on MSN.
I hate having the flu as I will not be able to chatter like usual. I hate having the flu as I have to constantly blow my nose and end up like Rudolph. I hate having the flu as my nose feels very stuffy and dirty that I have to “wash” it leading to peels around the skin at times. Most of all, I hate having the flu as I will not be able to savour my food. The best part of my flu was that I could stay home the whole day.
The past few days I felt very stupid. I was too busy to read the newspapers and I absolutely hate that feeling of not knowing what’s happening around me. Dr Tony Tan once said that we would miss a lot in life if we do not read. I totally agree with him.
And so, I stayed at home the whole day and felt very intellectual as I managed to scan through the past 7 days pile of The Straits Times.
I learnt that the term “hoe” means “whore” and “ho-wop” is a new kind of music.
The Dreamers, which was rated R21, has two scenes reduced in the version screened in Singapore. What’s the use of the R21 then? I wonder if there would be a fiery debate on film censorship and rating yet again after the fiery lashing of DPM Lee Hsien Loong’s visit to Taiwan.
I learnt that a storm was brewing in China as regions accused each other of stealing clouds and also learnt from Bucky in Get Fuzzy that you can rewrite history by not trusting liberal media and by resorting to figuring stuff out yourself such that I can declare that the manufacturers of FEB (the cold tablet) have been sued by a magnate on 21 July 2004 for not delivering any results.
I also discovered that Sex and the City has finally hit our local screens on Friday 16 July. It is the clean version though, so clean that even breast-feeding scenes have been cut. Hasn’t there been a debate regarding public breast-feeding in Singapore recently?
I stumbled across this small article which states that Australia is attracting more Asian foreign students than ever in history. I longed to be one of those students.
The latest celebrity accessory to carry is not a poodle in the bag but a bump on the tummy with ever-elegant celebrities strutting the red carpet and proudly showing off their hump, I meant, bump in beautiful maternity gowns. I long to be a beautiful mother in future too. But alas I do not look like Heidi Klum, Gwyneth Paltrow or Kate Hudson.
The United Nations human development index ranks Singapore as 25th in the list of world’s best places to live. I don’t know what is the yardstick of measurement and hence cannot comment on it.
I learnt that 12 August 2004 is the date for DPM Lee to take over as PM. I can’t miss this information as it was on the headlines on Sunday.
There was an article on babies and pets. It wrote about couples getting rid of their pets when their babies arrive. Experts assert that such a move is not necessary and may be unwise even. I henceforth declare myself an expert. On Saturday, I visited this very beautiful resort looking home of this very beautiful couple with two very beautiful babies. They have three very beautiful cats and one of the guests brought her dog. All of us stroke cats, ruffled dog’s fur and caress babies without washing our hands at all. We did not think it mattered and even the parents said it was perfectly alright.
Finally there was this rumour that William Hung is dead. It was clarified the next day that he is still very much alive and banging.
I would have missed so much within that span of time if I had not read the newspapers.
Friday, July 16, 2004
I'm Officially an Arts Graduate
To be updated later... ...
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I'm finally gonna update this entry. I'm Officially an Arts Graduate on the 15th when my commencement took place. And since i'm too lazy to type much, it will be more of a photo blogging.
Me and my proud parents. Obviously their faces in this photo do not do justice to how they were feeling that time.
Tammy and Teoks were the 1st two friends to arrive.
The elites reunited! Minus workaholic Julie. Pity pity...
Mum wearing my "square head" as what she calls a mortar board.
Dad's turn!
From Tammy's camera, she did a really nice monochrome finish to this shot. Luv it!
Us again. Teoks is trying to blow the balloon's brains into the mortar board.
I think Weiquan looks kinda reluctantly-funny-cute here. Yell at me if you want me to remove this photo.
Caleb is forever bullying Teoks. Evidence? Flip through your albums from JC1 onwards. Most photos captured him in the act.
My only individual shot.
Jamie my primary school classmate and me.
Joel and me.
Tammy looks very sweet here so i decided to post this up. Once again, yell at me if you want me to take this down.
We queued for some time up just for this stairs backdrop and so decided to hog it as evident by the next few shots.
There!
Kh finally arrived and presented me with a yellow PIG! I swear it is part of his ploy to adorn my room with yellow stuff toys (Remember Tweety?).
There... stair shots again!
Me and Tam. She refuses to hold my balloons.
Group shot.
Evan (in academic gown) and her cousin.
Through the looking glass.
Both our parents.
Deardear's turn.
Clockwise from top left: Marcus, Chris, me & evan.
Evan and I spent so much time snapping that the afternoon session people soon began to throng the UCC and we managed to take a photo with Samantha and Tingfang. If NUS has placed us all as Geography 1st major, the 4 of us would have been sitting together in a row. I thought that would have been very cool.
Thursday, 15th of July has been a memorable day for me considering that I haven't been that enthusiastic about my graduation at the beginning. I know I have been thanking you all profusely that you all might as well smash my mouth with a brick bat. But I truly appreciate those of you who turned up that day. And for those who couldn't come, I appreciate all your well wishes via sms. I recalled not replying many smses as my handphone wasn't always with me. Hope to see the rest of you real soon!!!
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I'm finally gonna update this entry. I'm Officially an Arts Graduate on the 15th when my commencement took place. And since i'm too lazy to type much, it will be more of a photo blogging.
Me and my proud parents. Obviously their faces in this photo do not do justice to how they were feeling that time.
Tammy and Teoks were the 1st two friends to arrive.
The elites reunited! Minus workaholic Julie. Pity pity...
Mum wearing my "square head" as what she calls a mortar board.
Dad's turn!
From Tammy's camera, she did a really nice monochrome finish to this shot. Luv it!
Us again. Teoks is trying to blow the balloon's brains into the mortar board.
I think Weiquan looks kinda reluctantly-funny-cute here. Yell at me if you want me to remove this photo.
Caleb is forever bullying Teoks. Evidence? Flip through your albums from JC1 onwards. Most photos captured him in the act.
My only individual shot.
Jamie my primary school classmate and me.
Joel and me.
Tammy looks very sweet here so i decided to post this up. Once again, yell at me if you want me to take this down.
We queued for some time up just for this stairs backdrop and so decided to hog it as evident by the next few shots.
There!
Kh finally arrived and presented me with a yellow PIG! I swear it is part of his ploy to adorn my room with yellow stuff toys (Remember Tweety?).
There... stair shots again!
Me and Tam. She refuses to hold my balloons.
Group shot.
Evan (in academic gown) and her cousin.
Through the looking glass.
Both our parents.
Deardear's turn.
Clockwise from top left: Marcus, Chris, me & evan.
Evan and I spent so much time snapping that the afternoon session people soon began to throng the UCC and we managed to take a photo with Samantha and Tingfang. If NUS has placed us all as Geography 1st major, the 4 of us would have been sitting together in a row. I thought that would have been very cool.
Thursday, 15th of July has been a memorable day for me considering that I haven't been that enthusiastic about my graduation at the beginning. I know I have been thanking you all profusely that you all might as well smash my mouth with a brick bat. But I truly appreciate those of you who turned up that day. And for those who couldn't come, I appreciate all your well wishes via sms. I recalled not replying many smses as my handphone wasn't always with me. Hope to see the rest of you real soon!!!
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