i must be crazy,


i miss my fengshan.

i MISS MISS MISS my fengshan.

and whenever i passed by bendemeer primary school on my way to the bus 23 bus-stop, i would go, "fengshan had a field like that."

fengshan used to have a super huge field. it was the size of two primary schools. it was so huge that 4 rounds around (about) half of the field meant that your 1.6km was done. there was a huge tree at the front of the field as well. yvonne & i used to pretend that it was our home. that was way back in p1. how time flies.

now, that big field of ours is reduced to half the size. it now belongs to some ulu ulu school (actually, i think it belongs to quite a famous school. but i forgot the school name). and what the new fengshanians have is a small little plot of land that is somehow always locked. well, it was when i was in there.

and fengshan used to have basketball courts with the baskets situated so high (to us kids) that its nearly impossible for us to play basketball. the new courts at the new school though have baskets that are pretty low. not low enough for me though. its sad. and hard to believe that i was actually to first to score a basket during our p4 basketball lesson. hey, it was a pretty big achievement (considering that i wasnt even 1.3m then), so obviously i remembered.

AND we used to hold mass p.e in our canteen. our mass p.e basically means dancing to the beats of *nsync's bye bye bye. it was pretty cool, come to think of it. too bad we were too uh, shy then to do it.

-SIGH.

the little little container boxes-like at the bottom of our block reminds me of the modular classrooms we had at fengshan. we would play play play and go inside the aircon room all sweaty and, well, smelly. we only stopped doing that when our lovely form teacher told us that we would get sick. if someone was to tell me the exact same thing now, i would play even more. being sick rocks. even only if it meant getting out of school.


okay okay. look forward. look forward.


which brings me to recess route thing.

really, whats wrong with the freaking school?

its RECESS for goodness sake. for chrissake. for my sake. for GOD's sake!


and i've just realised (actually, on tue) that HOHOHO, there are actually THREE other buses besides 26 to take me to the 23 stop. thank you for making that remark to me.


peter crouch is coming to liverpool. big freaking deal. anthony le tallec is doing (i think) quite well in pre-season. thats ALL it matters. my rosy-cheeked soccer boy, please dont leave liverpool for france again. i have no interest in french football.


patrick viera left for juventus (i think. right?). kind of sad actually. i like him. only because he was so funny in that fa cup final against manchester united. he actually forgot his penalty was the winner okay. OKAY. thank goodness it only took a split second for him to realise it.


lance armstrong doesnt seemed to be as strong as last year. have confidence that he will clinch a seventh victory though.


and phelps aint swimming 400IM in the world championships this year. sad. i like watching his 400IM. he's a freak at that. if i remembered correctly that is. it could be the 200IM that he's freaky at of course. ah, heck. he's a freak at all the IMs. anyway, i think he dyed his hair black or something. or maybe its just the athens' sun. whatever it is, he looks different from athens. different in a bad way.


is ian thorpe competing?


israel should not withdraw from whichever part they're planning to withdraw (gaza, i think).


lleyton hewitt got married, i think. HA. his girl must be blind. then again, she's pretty ugly herself. i pity their future child (due later this year).


i think i'm crapping.

maybe i should stop.

-sigh.


is there anybody out there who thinks that michelle wie looks like a freak? she's FIFTEEN and yet, she looks more like a 25 year old. -shudders.


i'm still crapping.


fine, maybe i should stop.


did i mention that i got mcfly's cd? -beams.

i think i shall go back to cd buying. its kind of lovely.

-slaps forehead.

what am i thinking?

its 20 bucks per cd, okay.

TWENTY.

10 packets of chicken rice.

about TWENTY popdohs!

i must be crazy.


i love sweden.


i wish that kimi raikkonen would not blow his engine again.


i think i might emigrate to sweden when i grow up.

or finland.

or denmark.

or norway.

or switzerland.

or uk.

or australia.

i'm such a bad singaporean.

prime example of how lousy national education is.

gee, i hope the pm dont read this.

well, if he is, then,

who cares?


i should really stop right now.

i've geography to study for.

environmental stuff.

not exactly my kind of stuff.

the world is going to be destroyed, sooner or later.

why bother?


ah, yes. i remembered what i really wanted to blog about.

my essay.

'A very poor woman had an invitation to go to a party given by a rich friend of hers. At first she thought she couldn't accept the invitation because she had nothing to wear and no jewellery. But then she thought, "Oh why not! This is the only party I'll go to this year. Maybe it's the only party I'll ever go to."

So she made herself a dress from some cloth that somebody gave her. She also borrowed a beautiful necklace from her rich friend. The necklace was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. At the party she felt rich and beautiful and entirely lifted out of her usual poor, drab world. She laughed, she drank, she danced, she talked, she sparkled and she laughed again.

She was still laughing when she got home, walking on air. She put her hand to touch the beautiful necklace and her face froze. The laughter died in her throat. The necklace was gone.

Panicking, she felt about her dress, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the necklace's clasp had somehow loosened and the necklace had slipped into the dress. The effort proved futile. The necklace was not with her. Panic turned into despair as the fact dawned upon her. There was only one thought on her mind - how is she going to be able to pay back her friend?

The next morning, she summoned up her courage, picked up the phone and dialled her friend's number. A dial tone answered her. Slapping her forehead, she muttered to herself, "Silly me. The bills had not been paid, remember?"

Having no other alternative, she made a trip down to her friend's house. The house which only seemed so warm and welcoming the night before now seemed so forbidding and cold. Taking a moment to soothe her nerves, she pressed the doorbell.

After what seemed like eternity, the door opened and her friend appeared in the doorway, smiling pleasantly, "What a pleasure to see you!" her friend gushed, "What are you doing here? Do come in..."

"I... I lost your necklace... I'm sorry Christine," she said, all in a rush.

Christine's face darkened. Her eyes flashing, she said coldly, "Lost? You meant you stole it."

She started to protest but Christine continued without skipping a beat, "Be prepared to get a visit from the police, Joan." The door slammed without another word.

Joan stared at the open doorway, her mouth agape, her feet remained rooted to the ground.

"She's lying," a voice said behind her.

Startled, she turned around and saw one of the guests from last night's party standing behind her. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

He smiled and said, "I'll be your witness." and walked away.

Months later, in court, he told the court a startling truth. Christine was the one who "stole" the necklace. She had loosened the clasp beforehand and had purposely knocked on to Joan during the party. The necklace then fell towards the ground and Christine promptly picked it up. True enough, a search in Christine's house led to the discovery of the necklace. Joan was found not guilty.

After the hearing, Joan and the man arrange to talk.

"Why did she want to frame me?" she asked, "We were good friends."

"She was jealous, Joan. The guy she was in love with loved another. She had hoped that by doing this, the guy would dump you for her."

"How did you know the truth?"

"I overheard her discussing her plans with her maid."

"Oh. And... who was that guy?"

"Me."'

there, a sappy, unbelievable love story. some parts are not quite well done. you know what i mean. anyway, its been so long since i last wrote a love story. this is my most unjuvenile (spelling?) love story to date. haha. not proud of it though. as i've said, some parts are not quite well done.


finally. my hands are tired. so next time you know. whenever you feel like stopping and you cant stop, just type in a essay. your hands willl go auto shutdown very fast.

hoho.

tata.


must be out of my mind.