A couple of mispelled words righted.

Knowticed is semantically more correct, don't you think?
Eddicted : Addicted to editing
Ifficiency : Giving your word but performing only when u feel like it.
Chilldren : Tiny tots who give you the shivers.

I love nutella.

Hair damage, Nautical (knotical) knots (naughts) and strawberry shortcake.

I curled my hair twice in 3 days. Well, 2.5 times really. I think it turned out really well and I will consider a perm. This preposterous idea was proposed by none other than Mr. Chng and I didn't consider it much then but I think I should because the idea was generally supported by the public and I'm not the one who has to deal with looking at me most of the time. (See, I have your interests at heart too, Mr/Mrs/Ms general public).

I'm back in school today, and even though I really hate the long breaks and I hate doing stressful stuff in uni, I'm telling myself it will be a short sem and that once this is over, I shall be halfway though my course. Come quickly, year end!

The whole nautical look just stormed in recently and I'm gaga over anchors (always have been, really) and now stripes! I love stripes! And shopping here... Ying, May and Nikki taught me what Cheap and Shopping really means in Perth. 3 hours in Valleygirl where everything u try on fits to a T and you just can't Not buy Everything! I stopped short walking in Garden City today because Roads had just amazing stuff. I almost had to squint to stop my wallet from shrinking. Still thinking about it though. No, sara, no more! The dress that I bought 2 weeks ago went up onto the showcase model in front of Garden City and I'm sure people are going to look for it all over the mall and I hope they find None. Muahahahah. Evil me.

I'm trying to be good this semester because I realised that clinic placements start next year and that if I don't learn my stuff now, I will traumatise little children and their already harrowed parents. Nevertheless, I'm thinking of waiting till next year to start ISSAD, the autistic children's therapy thing.

Excited for next year and extremely depressed when I think that Mel, Jith, Arts and Hana are leaving. The thought of that makes me cringe and shiver and grind my teeth. Hahaha. Funny picture, that. I am hoping more people come to Perth! Will I persuade you more if I speak in twit language? Come lehxx, pei wo.. sho lonely worxx. Ok no, I think that backfired.

Jen and I were talking about Knots (naughts) and No (know). Do you know not, know knot, know naught, no knot, no naught or no not? Haha. Ask me! I've got the hottest sailor in my room now. Jack Sparrow is part of my crib thanks to JenJen! Oh happy me.. Thank you dearie. hahahaha.

Strawberry shortcake could have been the name of a stripper, as one not-so-funny sitcom implied. How degrading to the cartoon.

Off to be a good nerd. Got a locket with 4 pictures in it. Two out of four don't require guessing (muack muack wink wink to the animal darlings); its moot. The other two... you can go and think about that.

Uncle Dennis passed away today. And I didn't get the email because.. never mind.

I expected it but I also love him very much. I guess it's Au Revoir, and I don't mean goodbye.

A Jar of Strawberries and Austen's take on love.

Spunky Spunky E. Bennet. So Keira Knightley. Dare I live my life like Lizzy Bennet- could I, even if I wanted to? No I can't- There are no Darcys generous or brooding enough. Even then I wouldn't swoon because a rude proposal is no proposal at all. 'My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.'- Jane Austen. Jem and Joel have trouble believing me. Women abound galore in this fair country where the weather is good. One is brutally honest at 4 am and it is indecent of me not to be asleep by that time because I really do know too much for my own sanity. A talkative woman at dusk is a woman with no secrets to keep. I face much strife to prevent blatantly insulting people at that time of the day when the mind betrays. :X is a good way to put it. Nevertheless it was good to talk and listen and laugh at that hour for once. I miss doing that.

I selected a jar- not too large and not too stingy, and filled it with paper strawberries, made slowly and with much thought. Painstakingly the jar with its strawberries took shape. I rearanged them to look aesthetic- such a womanly thing, and so scorned by the un-fairer sex. I am ready. Alvin remarks that the jar is meaningless. I suppose the strawberries are too, then. Especially for the receipient, whom I have no clue concerning his take on the fruit. Undaunted, I ignore the superficial uselessness of the pretty gift and decide that whatever else I might have chosen would be inferior to this. The pretty jar with the pretty false fruit went to the hospice and I realised this was more for me than for him. This was a way of asking me, "How much will you give up for a dying man? Will you leave a little time in your busy schedule to spend your time singing and reading to a friend so weak he struggles to respond?" And I cried yesyesyes when I saw him because I felt so small in thinking about the silly things in life that come and go. Death written on someone else's page tells you something. It glances at you out of the corner of its eye and reminds you not to waste your time on trivia. That one day if you find yourself going, going slowly, that you will regret the folly of your youth- the wasted tears and worries, and the silly decisions that could have turned out so much better. That you should have told your parents, your partner, your friends everyday and more that you loved them. That getting mad over silly things wasn't at all satisfying- that the gnawing hole of regret cannot be erased by playing scrabble mindlessly and with an intent to win.

It was in Brennan's book that the articulation of truth became heart's ease to me. Brennan's renewed life as a ragamuffin testified to my Kinsman-Redeemer's grace. And i realised that I loved Him. More than anything else. And that He loved me more than I love Him and more than I ever can. "Adoration is nonentity swooning away and gladly expiring in the presence of infinity." -Pere Sertillanges. Only one can make me swoon and rightly so. He isn't Darcy-ish at all. And He keeps His word. The only one whose pronoun I can write with a capital. And I've finally found the book that truly explains my template- Ragamuffin. It makes so much sense. And it's so scandalous, and I love the scandal of it all, because I know He laughs at it too. I also know it makes Him sad.

L'amour de Dieu est folie!- The Love of God is folly. How true, when you think of why He loves me.

Nightingale, Sing us a Song. Arrrrrr!

May and I haven't a clue about the trash we talk (The title is an example), unless of course it's serious. I was sore about pirates, and thought the first one infinitely better. I'm watching it now, in fact. Hai. I love my Jack. Jack in a locker. Jack in a Kraken. I'm sure he'll come back to me!

Life is fragile. Uncle Dennis is deteriorating. I cried coming out of the hospice.

Papa is coming home tomorrow. I am glad.

I got the piano part for the production!

I know too many people's secrets. I wonder how this came to be. It's so funny to shut my mouth about absolutely everything.

I had a glorious time in Cottesloe with Jen and Jon. I can't explain, really. But it was everything I wanted- time slowed down, and when that happened, perspective changed. It was so surreal, so majestic.

Turpentine Tears

May and I created turpentine tears, an alliteration which we haven't quite put a true meaning to. Of course, as you may guess, we were painting when it happened. Hahhahaa.

The petition Rachel sent to keep our old school song me got me feeling all nostalgic. One thing Anglicans were famous for was our sense of subtle rebellion- one that gave us that feeling that the school system sucked and banded our loyalty in a sticky, united heap. Inspite of everything else. Take me back to a time...... I miss 2002 & 2003 with such a yearning all of a sudden. It hurts that it'll never come back. I wish for just a short time that I could go back to feeling 'home home'. I am tiring of this uncomfortable, unsettled feeling once again.

I am HOPPING CRAZY for my friday audition. I want it pretty bad, shhhh. Piano in a play. Don't bet on anything, I really don't think I'm up to standard and I'm hoping they are asking for dreadfully sub-standard stuff. I can't wait for friday. It's me and Jen's day to go out and relax without anything GETTING ON MY NERVES, as Arthur puts it. Now that I think about it, a couple of things have been grating. I have been a frigid bitch with no apologies. Hai. Save me, buy me a new life. I just want to have a HOLIDAY during the HOLIDAY. School is opening soon. So SO annoying.

Want to visit with Uncle Dennis soon. I don't know if he likes origami strawberries but I guess it's the thought that counts and all that.

MmmMmmMm. Kawaii Strawberries.

I've been folding origami strawberries. Then I thought about Rach. Then I thought about Strawberries. A wry smile is a dead giveaway for strong neural connections.

It's been eventful, these days. So eventful I have fallen prey to what me and Jen suspect is a virus which has spent a considerable amount of time in someone else's body. I don't like to think me and that someone else are so closely related- that our insides have met and connect in the same involuntary hackings and wheezings. Jen discussed this over dinner; I was fortuous not to be the one ingesting nutrients else I would have spewed. It's worse than kissing, this virus business.

Leon is an absolute nut. I cannot spend 5 minutes with him without laughing, and we have not had a single SANE conversation ever. I kind of like it this way. Never making sense. I've met a couple of other people who are particularly nice and for that I am truly grateful. Yes. I know what J means when she talks about being pampered. Ah. Life is good. There is intelligent life on earth.

Wha that was super BHB. Heee. I finally read 'kiss of the spiderwoman'. Su will kill me if she knows I've read the script. But I couldn't resist and it was really hauntingly good. And hilariously funny to picture in theatre with people I know in it. But still, I thought the script rather brilliant. You know me, style over plot. I'll read any sort of rubbish as long as the style suits me. OoOoh. Leon's getting into a bitchfight..

There are things in life that are small, yet so fundamental to life they cannot be ignored yet are so hard to verbalise for want of grasping their obvious quality. I haven't figured it out yet; they come and go so quickly and my magnifying glass is not quite the thing. One thing i need to do; sit in a cafe and have a decent cup of tea and a good book with a good friend. We await the day we can take a decent REST.

Didn't do great for this semester and I have not quite finished growling at the credit I got that tarnished all the other three grades. I was hopping mad. Not quite, but I guess anger is a defense for queasy uneasiness.

Ansel is such a darling. He likes my long nails and asked if they could be removed, after which he proceeded to BEND them. Not darling, that part. But he IS 5, and he IS cute and he CAN spell. A-N-S-E-L-N-G. You know I love it when people can spell. Muahmuah. Such a sweetie that one. Rascal. Cutie. Ah, they have their jenkyll and hyde moments.

Oh well, off to camp tomorr. And i have not packed! Rawrh. Oh, Thanks My deer for the shoes.. I love them! MUACKS!

superficial depth

I'm dead beat- the same way I've been for the last few days. Winter school is so tiring but I am loving it more and more.

I went to see dear Uncle Dennis last week in the hospital, and I didn't expect to see myself cry, and I felt so foolish and concious of it that I tried my best to hold it back. The dear man didn't mind a bit, even though I thought I would mind were I in his place. But death's cruel hand was beginning to work, and I saw the sallow color, the listless physique and the mediocre appetite. I remembered what death looks like- one doesn't forget these hard biological lessons learned in a cold, clammy laboratory. Yet, death had no answer to face the grace and peace manifest in his face and I began to wonder why this man lived his life better dying than I lived it living. I reconsidered my priorities a little, loved him all the more, and he was truly grateful, holding my hand tightly as i tried hard not to make puddles on his hospital gown. I sang to him quietly, after which my dad placed a heavy hand on my back to tell me, as babe's owner had told him, that that'll do... Uncle D is to me such a testimony of the work of grace- a shout-out that whatever else I may be, I CAN be used for God in a mighty way. I love you very very much Uncle Dennis..

I am tired, I admit the struggle of old is still there- I feel so aimless at times, but at least I am happy with life as it is now. Really and truly. I just get annoyed occasionally by, well, apologies. Or over-apologies. Give me grace.

I dressed up tonight for the girl's night out and we paid a bomb eating out in a fancy place. I think we were quite over-aware of prices but it was fun and I enjoyed it for what it was. Had a bit of a laugh with 2 saras present- notice how it spells saras backward and forward? Jen was extremely amused by that.

Oh, and signage. WHY in the world would anyone have a shop named after him? WHY? The big rectangular neon sign hung over the pavement as I pointed it out to Jen and cringed. You know what she said?

"It's a sign."

And she accuses me of being lame?????? (What's the sign for anyway? A yes? or a No? or a WHAT ARE YOU- OUT OF YOUR MIND?)

Anyway, i learnt something new- "who fluffed?" means "Who farted?" and I am sorry to say that I found that tastelessly amusing.