A Brief Sojourn into the Land of Pink and Purple Taxis

Day #1

I write this in my frigid hotel room overlooking a sign saying “Applied Physics” and another describing the foot reflexology services of “Miss Puke”. My stomach is so bloated stuff threatens to exit from either above or below, and I am on the verge of breathing fire (thanks to my exceedingly spicy dinner). To top it all of, I have had three servings of coffee today (caffeine overload alert) and am quite insanely perky. As a result, this entry is likely to be terribly garbled and not make much sense at all.

Where am I? Somewhere in the middle of a tangled mess of hopelessly congested roads, highways and alleys, beset on all sides by garish pink taxis and dangerous sofa-bearing tuk-tuks. Bangkok, naturally.

Day #2

Hmmm… haven’t been in this city for what, four, five years? I never cared much for it in the past. But it calls to me now, singing its siren song… (Buy, buy buy! Very cheap, buy!) Sadly, I find it irresistible. I am not one who is easily tempted by long swishy skirts. But here, I find myself drooling at every third swishy skirt that so happens to be in my path. The variety here is mind-blowing. Utterly mind-blowing. And though the prices have gone up somewhat throughout the years, one can still get a very good deal, if one knows where to look (and if one avoids shopping malls that scream 'DEES EES A TOUURISS TRAAAP!"). There is plenty of stuff here that suits Schmetterling's very exacting tastes, and Schmetterling is very very happy about that. Service is almost universally excellent, and I find myself smiling more in one day than I've smiled for the past half of the year, simply because there are fewer pompous assholes here.

I also think that Thai massages are quite highly overrated. Perhaps having all the breath squashed out of me just isn't my thing. Don't get me wrong- it wasn't exactly painful or anything... it's just that I am not too amenable to having feet and elbows push into my back.

Day #3

I swear they put sugar in EVERYTHING. Including fruit juice. To think I was marvelling at the sweetness of Thai watermelons. Anyway, I like Thai salads. If I become a vegetarian I think Thailand might be a good place to retire.

Nothing much of note, just this. Walking on the streets can be quite hazardous, for there are shrines (and thus clouds of flies accompanying the offerings) leaping out at you from unexpected corners. And university students wear cute uniforms.

In Which the Owner of this Blog has fallen Prey to Humour

What can I possibly say? Some people are geniuses when it comes to humour.

"...And Saint Attila raised the hand grenade up on high, saying, "O Lord, bless this, Thy hand grenade, that with it, Thou mayest blow Thine enemies to tiny bits... in Thy mercy." And the Lord did grin, and the people did feast upon the lambs and sloths and carp and anchovies and orangutans and breakfast cereals, and fruit bats and large chu... [Whereupon the friar is urged, "skip ahead a bit, brother"]... And the Lord spake, saying, "First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin. Then, shalt thou count to three. No more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who, being naughty in My sight, shall snuff it." Amen."
-- On the Use of the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, a weapon used to kill a ferocious, fluffy bunny in the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

"Quite simply, he was in love with linen. Clean, lightly starched, white Irish linen, pressed, folded, tucked- the words were almost a litany of desire for him. In centuries nothing had obsessed him or moved him so much as linen now did. He could not for the life of him understand how he could have cared for anything else."

--The Norse God Odin's opinion of linen, from The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul by Douglas Adams

"Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae." — Kurt Vonnegut

"Mediocre writers borrow; great writers steal. "— TS Eliot


Will post more when I think of more stuff.

Of Too Much Gaming

Have you ever been so distracted by pretty graphics in a computer game that you completely fail to realise you're getting toasted by the enemy?


Scenario 1 :

*lightning flashes and blinding white light*

Me: Oooooooooh PRETTY!

*clank clank clank screeeeeam*

Sign on screen: DEFEATED

Scenario 2:

*giant fiery red eye shines down on troops like Weirdo Spotlight from Hell*

Me: Oooooh PRETTY!

Disembodied Voice from Speakers: I see you

Me: Right. Now what.

*clank clank clank screaaaam*

Sign on screen: DEFEATED


You get the idea.

Amusing Blog Quotes

Yes... I've been snooping around people's blogs and kidnapping quotes.

"A blog does not a person make." - W.K

"Never mention Jay Chou in 04S71 or else you would have commited a deed as dastardly as opening Pandora's box. And you'll find it incredibly hard to shut the damn box." - Bigsheepy

"... there's a huge puncture in my already semi-deflated ego and all the air inside is already in semi-equilibrium with the surrounding air, so basically, there's only negligible air inside the ball you call ego. Hmm." -西湖娘娘

" ... and the probability of this is 1 in, I don't know, maybe 4,532,845,043,689,574,396,820,473."

- again, the lovely Lady of the West Lake, on some weird topic that I don't remember.

"They have BCCT (basic close combat training) which basically consists of a group of people looking really retarded punching their hands in the air."

- Our Great Leader, on a particular aspect of training in NS.


What am I doing? Argh.

Old Friends

I was clearing out my stuff yesterday, mostly because my room looks like a plane just dropped a bomb on it and I wanted to be able to walk through the room without inadvertantly tripping over something and killing myself (though I have life insurance but that's not the point).

After some rooting about I discovered a half-filled sketchbook, buried under a pile of well whatever, I don't want to know what that is, which I had forgotten completely about. So I flipped through it to laugh at the abombinations I produced these few years. On the very last filled page was a half-completed drawing (of what I am not going to tell you. Nyah.) with quite a bit of detail done in already. Unable to resist I abandoned Operation Clean-up and took the sketchbook to the table.

Shoving some stuff (where do I get this much stuff anyway) off the table I proceeded to work on it awhile, adding detail andbringing out the form. Then I realised why I had never completed it. The pose was too ambitious, and I would never be able to get it right without a live model (and this much I will tell you.. the subject of the drawing does not exist in real life and therefore it is impossible to obtain a live model. Besides I wouldn't WANT to go near it if it existed). So I abandoned it. Again.

But my hand had touched the paper, and it was impossible to resist its siren call. Just the right texture for watercolour, really. Not really caring where I left my pencil and eraser, I rooted about again and managed to dig out a box of paints, which was empty. Then I remembered that being an idiot I had put all my paints in one box (artists' version of putting all your eggs in one basket) which I was now using as a footrest. So I took that out, and went on a search for my paintbrushes, which were conveniently standing in a mug in my bathroom next to my toothbrush (I do NOT brush my teeth with a paintbrush. I just keep them there because. Um. Because. Yah.)

Anyway, feeling beside myself with glee at having actually found what I was looking for (aiyah should have bought lottery, since I was on a lucky streak), I began to cheerfully sploosh paint onto paper. I didn't really know what I was doing. It felt good to be holding a brush again, for the first time in what, a year? I just randomly splooshed around, painting whatever came to mind (tomatoes, big trees, rocks, people with purple hair).

Thus passed the entire afternoon and evening. And my room is still a mess.

The Simple Life, or The Fine Art of Doing Absolutely Nothing

There's nothing quite like the simple life, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

There's nothing like sitting down in the evenings with a cup of rose-flavored milk tea, baroque music playing in the background, and just contemplating your peaceful, uninteresting existence.

There's nothing like being so absorbed in your own thoughts that you forget entirely you haven't spoken face to face with a human being (other than your students) for almost a week.

There's nothing like sitting around the entire day, and not feeling bored at all, because you're just enjoying the quiet simplicity of your life.

There's nothing like strolling through the busy city streets while the world whirls past you, and saying nary a word, or heeding any sight or sound, just pondering meditatively on some random thing or other (like coffee).

There's nothing like flipping idly through an issue of Sci Am, and suddenly realising with a jolt that you're in Macdonalds and probably look like an absolute nerd.

There's nothing like realising you just spent five minutes of your life deciding whether you want toast for breakfast or not.

In short, there's nothing like having absolutely nothing to do.

The Berlin Philharmonic

I can not understate my appreciation for Arts Central screening classical music concerts almost every week.

Yesterday it was a concert by the Berlin Philharmonic (one of my favoritest symphony orchestras) with a heady dose of French music.

[rave mode]

Saint-Seans! Ravel! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[/rave mode]

Cough. Ahem.

Anyway they played one of the great favorites: Saint-Sean's Carnival of the Animals. I thought "The Swan" was especially moving. (What am I talking about? It's the only really moving movement in the entire suite...in my opinion anyway)

I really must try to stop rambling so much and form clear, coherent thought.

*Deep breath*

Nope. It's beyond me. I'm done for.

ANYWAY.

The concert was open-air in somewhere in Germany. What really struck me was the enthusiasm of the audience. The place was literally SWARMING with people and their picnic baskets. After every piece they would cheer and whoop and seem absolutely thrilled that they were listening to classical music. The applause was deafening, and by the end everyone was on their feet clapping and cheering and generally prancing along to the music.

What an atmosphere.

Even I, sprawled comfortably out on a couch in front of the TV, felt a slight stirring within me. And I couldn't wipe off the grin on my face for hours. (Freaky huh.)



Which leaves us with this thought : Would you see this sort of reaction in Singapore?








Aside: http://library.wellcome.ac.uk/doc_WTL038432.html is very funny. Snicker.

Ugh

Note: The author apologises for the interruption of the Stupid-Lame-Funny-Anecdotes series to just ramble a little bit

Well I suppose it's time to formally introduce Sean, since I'm going to ramble about him for awhile today.

Sean is a very charming young fellow with dusty brown hair, streaked with gold.

Like most males though, Sean has a problem with personal hygiene.

You see, Sean is a Campbell Dwarf Hamster, and perhaps his mama forgot to teach him how to keep himself clean.

Sean has a rather disturbing habit of urinating and pooping on the excercise wheel, which he then proceeds to run on and sleep on.

So his ever-patient owner has to give him a bath almost every week just to remove the dried pee that's making his fur all sticky.

Not to mention that it stinks.

A lot.

And I can't bring myself to be mad at him because he's so cute and stares at me with those limpid brown eyes....




Bah.

Memories

-private chuckle-

I remember all too well the days of lame jokes and relentless teasing. Days when we should have been buried up to our noses in TYS-es and notes and tutorials, or doing something productive, but wasted in the invention of hilarious (and extremely improbable) scenarios.

Anyway to liven up my 85.673% dead blog, I present you with a series of short jokes/scenarios that my friends and I cooked up.

Warning: Lame, may cause physical impairment in limbs


(A) In The Event of War

Introduction: Inspired by my second-sister's complaints of NS making people stupid. (Yes my second-sister is male).

It is the time of war.

Shells explode overhead.

The captain sees the enemy approach, and shouts an order to his men.

"Fire at will!"

"Yes sir!" An enthusiastic soldier whips out his rifle, swings it around and fires a round into his buddy's face.

As the poor soldier falls limp to the ground amid horrified stares, we see the name on his uniform.

Private Will.

On Instruments

I have a grand total of five instruments at home, four of which are now busy collecting dust.

Well since I haven't blogged for several millennia and I have nothing better to do, I shall say a few words in tribute of my most constant companions.

Introduction

As a person who finds it incredibly difficult to open her mouth and yabble like the rest of her species, Schmetterling doesn't find release easily or often. Schmetterling doesn't even have a social life worth a butterfly wing-scale. Thus, Schmetterling's most intimate friends are inanimate objects hewn out of wood.

The piano

Schmetterling has played the piano for some time but still doesn't manage to be much good at it. Schmetterling goes to the piano to find tranquility and peace by working out anger and frustration. (Prelude in C# minor by Rachmaninoff works just fine..) Or just to clear the head from incessantly whirling thoughts. Schmetterling plays to hear richness and complexity and long sustained sounds, which distract her from the meaningless goings-on of daily life.

The sheng

Perhaps this is what Schmetterling plays best, but she plays it seldom now. Schmetterling seeks it when she wishes to sing of joy, youth and boundless energy (which is obviously quite seldom), or when she just wants to hear sweet sounds. Of course, Schmetterling also plays when she is told she must. (-sulk-) The sheng has taken Schmetterling on the furthest road (and vice versa actually, with the result of the sheng being the only one of Schmetterling's instruments to have seen Orchard Road) and has been the catalyst for finding many of Schmetterling's joys in life.

Rambling note : One does not know how exhilarating it feels to play a wind instrument until one has learnt to play one with some skill.

The guitar

Newest and most unfamiliar of Schmetterling's instruments. Nonetheless it serves the purpose of expressing Schmetterling's abundant feelings of self-pity and melancholy. Schmetterling loves to hear the minor chords resonate, and to feel the bite of nylon strings into flesh.






I blogged. Be happy.

Sigh

My Muse has gone off on aholiday. Will blog when she decides to return.

On the Perils of Short Legs in War

I have just bought a new computer game : The Battle for Middle Earth 2 PC game. Whee. Of course I am uber enthusiastic about it, being a hardcore Tolkien fan and all, but it is a really nice game. Take the graphics for example. At certain points in the game, for example, you see a breathtaking, pure, holy shaft of white light pierce through the gently falling snow and illuminate the path below. And of course it's accompanied by uplifting choral voices singing "aaaaaahhhh aaaahhhhh AHHHHH!" (from the original film soundtrack, no less) to signify that something wonderful has just happened and you've been blessed or something (of course you'd be clueless, but that isn't the point). Also, the Elven dwellings are just magnificent. There is this mallorn/mallard/macdonald tree or something that you grow for food and it has gold and bronze leaves! Shiny leaves! Orcs, trolls and other fashionably evil stuff are also picturesquely grotesque (wrinkles, ugly pout, abdominal fat, uneven tan etc.)

Anyway, that isn't the point. Back to the main topic, which is about the Perils of Short Legs in War. This is something important I have learnt from playing this game.

Well, in one of the campaign scenarios I had to command battalions of Dwarves, which are bearded, short, stout and slow. I would like to point out what I was facing at that point of time was hordes of the Dark Lord's prancing Orcs and Spiders and what not which are significantly faster then my short-legged allies. So when the happy occasion of an enemy attack comes, my army is pelted with generous helpings of poison arrows and flaming shot that fries them to a crisp before they even manage to prick the enemy with the edge of an axe. It is also extremely disheartening to watch your army execute a painfully slow charge order ( I swear they WADDLE to battle) while huge boulders fired from enemy catapaults whiz over their heads ( and occasionally flatten them). You can almost imagine the grin on Sauron's face. Wait. Sauron doesn't have a face. Grin on his Eye? Nevermind.

Anyway. It seems as if short legs were not meant for the battlefield. What would Dwarves do if they had to fight a Mountain Giant anyway? Hack at his pinkie toe?

BeeBee the Paranoid Schizophrenic Fish

BeeBee (real name is not given due to privacy issues) is a paranoid schizophrenic Siamese Fighting Fish.

BeeBee resides in a plastic tank in Schmetterling's student's HDB flat and is of indeterminate age. BeeBee was diagnosed with Paranoid Schizophrenia three weeks ago when he scared the hell out of Schmetterling by banging his nose very hard on the tank walls, thinking that yours truly was Satan incarnate and out to murder him in cold blood (which is strange because he is cold-blooded anyway).

BeeBee continually experiences horrifying hallucinations, in which he thinks that he is being attacked on all sides. During such episodes (which strangely usually occur during tuition), BeeBee goes stark raving mad and dashes all around the tank with gills flared, and usually ends up with a bloody face and several missing scales. In between episodes BeeBee just phases out with a glassy look on his fishy face.

To help BeeBee overcome his mental disorder, his owner has put in a porcelain hideout to provide him with a sense of security and thus perhaps prevent panic attacks. However this has not worked as the ever-paranoid BeeBee seems to think it is all some kind of trap and refuses to stay in the hideout for more than a few seconds at a time.

It is also suspected that BeeBee hears voices in his little fishy head telling him that Schmetterling is Satan incarnate.

A Random Discourse on the State of Random Things

Well. I haven't thought of a coherent blog entry, but I have lots of stuff to say, so I shall just ramble and ramble and ramble and ramble for after all this is my blog and I have the inalienable right to ramble on it. To make it less obviously rambly, I shall attempt to organise them into discrete points.

1. On Apples
No no not on Apple, on apples. The red or green edible kind, not the expensive airconditioner-remote-like rectangular thingy with a wheel thingy that mysteriously goes 'click' when you twirl it. Well yes now, what of apples? Well they come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and colours and prices. The kind I particularly like is a kind of yellowish-red, and about the size of a ping-pong ball costing about S$2 for a pack of about five, while the largest I have seen was blood red, of the size of a cantaloupe and cost S$14 each. Which of course leads you to suspect that the kind of apple that William Tell balanced on his poor son's head and shot with an arrow was the huge red kind that simply screams "AIM HERE" and is impossible to miss, rather than the comparably microscopic variety that I gobble up in about, oh two bites. And apples just taste so nice, you know. Sweet, firm, crunchy, with a slight powdery taste... that's how I like my apples. And Xiang the hamster likes his apples too. He gets one slice about once a week, and the juice makes his whiskers all sticky.

2. On A Visit to my Grandparents'
Just yesterday I went to my grandparents' house for a visit and to spend the night there. Their doctrine seems to be "early to bed and early to rise, makes you healthy, wealthy and wise" , and their daily schedule (which is like clockwork) is almost 2-3 hours earlier than most people's. For example, I arrived at 3pm in the afternoon. At 5pm, I was told that dinner was served and would I please go eat my dinner now. Having just had my lunch at 2pm, I was feeling extremely uncomfortable and only managed to get all the food down by sheer willpower. It didn't help much that my grandmother was looking displeased at me eating "so little" when in fact I was eating enough for two elephants. Then my grandmother was scandalized to hear that I did not intend to retire to bed by 8pm(which is when she went to sleep) and after giving me a lecture on the evils of sleeping late, she insisted I drink a mug of Milo because I would be hungry. Right. Being the obedient granddaughter I complied, and rose to make the hot drink. She was utterly horrified, as she was sure I was going to scald myself or drop the hot water flask on my toe or something and she would be scolded by her son for letting anything happen to his precious daughter while she was in her house. Sigh. Anyway, the next day, I had breakfast at 9am and lunch at 10.30pm. And I am feeling very sick indeed thank you very much. (This doesn't change the fact that I adore my grandmother absolutely, forcefeeding notwistanding)

3. On CSI
Yeah I'm talking about the show where someone inevitably gets murdered every episode and then a group of people come along with all their powders and flashlights and other toys and have a jolly good time. I AM A TOTAL FAN! Of CSI and the spinoffs CSI: NY and CSI: Miami, though I like CSI best. (I like CSI : Miami least. One of the actors has puppy eyes that irritate me) It's just so interesting! You know. Bugs. Dead bodies. Cool tech equipment. Gory autopsies.... This is my sort of thing you know? Especially the bug part. You won't believe how many different types of bugs feature on this show. And the tarantulas. Cool. And I absolutely love it when they test-fire shotguns. Boom.

Schmetterling is a Blog Pirate

Stole this off Huijie's blog. Bwah

I AM: having a monster headache from a little too much coffee. See, the problems with legal drugs like caffeine is that they will be abused up down and inside out by people like me, who need daily fixes to prevent themselves from jumping off a building or bashing their brains out on a concrete wall.

I WANT: inspiration. Which has very cleverly eluded me ever since... oh, eight to ten months ago? Wait. That corresponds roughly to the start of my drug habit. Hmmmmmmm.

I WISH: that I actually had the motivation to do something worthwhile with my time and not just spend the whole day sitting at home getting hyped up on caffeine. I also wish that my A level results were better so I wouldn't be in this depressing state right now.

I HATE: humankind in general, ginger, mangoes, rock,pop,metallica and all the other modern nonsense masquerading as "music", coffee withdrawal syndromes, sitting around all day at home doing nothing, getting bored, children under the age of 12 (I'm not too sure if they're classified under "humankind"..)... and et cetera et cetera.

I MISS: the days of artistic productivity. And my friends. And school. Sadly. At least then I had something to do when I was all hyped up on caffeine. Now I don't have homework and my science mags come only once a month. *Taps head* whatever used to be inside this has now migrated to Mars and I miss it. Hey brain if you see this, write me okay?

I FEAR: nothing. Except of course, boredom, lack of coffee...

I HEAR: voices in my head telling me that I'm a worthless idiot with a drug habit and I should drown myself only that I probably would screw up my suicide attempt like everything else. Just joking. I assume people want to know what I listen to, so I hear : classical music including opera and some broadway and crossover classical. Il Divo is nice.

I WONDER: about how I can overcome my drug habit. And about things like why humanity is so hopeless and when humans are going to nuclear-blast themselves out of existence. In my spare time I ponder upon this very serious question : why hasn't anyone made nice instant coffee? It is after all the 21st century already.

I REGRET: not having the guts (and motivation) to nuclear-blast humans out of existence. Well and a couple of other dark mysterious evil things that I'd rather not discuss.

I AM NOT: crazy. I think. Well maybe I am. Well, not really. Hmm. Am. Not. Am. Not. Am. Not. Am. Not...

I SING: Yes I sing but nobody who listened ever lived to tell the tale. Stay well clear, people.

I CRY: when watching war films. Am always a sucker for them. Sniffle.

I AM NOT ALWAYS: as even-tempered and calm and steady as I seem. I have my explosive moments and shrapnel can hit anyone within a 10km radius.

I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: big messes. Oh well. Some people call it art. Or music. I just call it paint blotches and noise.

I WRITE: in cursive or in a slanted round hand. And I write mainly stuff like "Dear diary I pooped three times today" and " Saturday 4 pm Tuition at that god-forsaken part of Singapore again".

I CONFUSE: people when I ramble too much. Like say, now. And I also confuse people's names and faces. I am very bad at remembering people. I'm sorry if I can't remember you or your name after 6 months of not seeing you. I also confuse myself when counting money. You see, I am mathematically deficient.

I NEED: coffee. Not now though. Bloody headache.

I SHOULD: get back to working on those trills. I can't do trills to save my life. Then again I don't have a life to save. So the point is, I can't do trills.

I START: start what. Okay. I start every day by going to the bathroom, then drinking a glass of water, then having my breafast, then...

I FINISH: everything that I start. Trust me. I hate to leave loose ends hanging.

I LOVE: my pweetchy lil' hammie. (Translation: I love my pet hamster.)

I REMEMBER: too many things, mostly bad. I also remember first impressions of people, if nothing else. I also remember to feed my hamster every day, even though he's getting quite fat.

I TAG (I added this meself) : Ger, Damian, WK, Eugene (both), Zhiyong (GET YOUR ASS OFF THAT SOFA AND BLOG), Timo and whoever wants to do this.


Finito.

WHY IS IT SO *BEEP*ING HOT?!

The weather is absurdly hot these days, thanks in part to the chimpanzee sitting in a white-washed house in a particularly obnoxious greenhouse-gas-spewing country. (Did you know someone called him the "greatest environmental villian of our time" ? He absolutely deserves it. Bah.)


I can't walk two steps without sweating profusely.

And my aircon isn't working.

And I had to walk under the hot sun for 20 minutes up a bloody hill.

And I'm about to take my second shower of the day.

BAH.

Weirdy Bloggy Stuff

Instructions: Name 20 people you can think of at the top of your head. dont read the questions before you write, and tag 5 pple to do this survey.

1. Geraldine
2. Damian
3. Zhiyong
4. Eugene Chan
5. Timothy
6. Huijie
7. Woon Keat
8. Yitian
9. Justin
10. Tsinli
11. Elizabeth
12. Alvin
13. Bong
14. Chee Gake
15. Wan Ting
16. Zhixuan
17. Delin
18. (I had to ponder very long...so sad my memory is failing me) Alex.. OH NO HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN MY JIE JIE
19. (Ditto) Lileng
20. (Ditto too) Kheng Whee


How did you meet 14? (CG) Hmm. First I heard her name being mentioned and thought it sounded like a hokkien phrased for "pissed off". Then during CO prac I heard the name being said again and again and again and I was getting pretty "Chi Ghek" from not knowing who it was. Then during one election I finally learnt who she was. Gradually became pretty friendly.

What would you do if you never met 1? (Ger) Oh dear. Become even more cynical and probably have shut the rest of the world out during JC. You see, spending a lot of time with a gregarious and (excessively) softhearted person rubs off on you. I would also be lacking countless arguments on the presence or absence of a god. (Ger is a Christian while I am an atheist) Ger is the closest friend I've had for quite a while, and I would be missing a great deal if I never met her. Well. This is inadequately expressed in words. Anyway, Ger, I'm glad to have met you.


What would you do if 20 and 9 dated? (Juz&KW) First, I would faint and be sent to the nearest hospital's ER. Next,(after I have sufficiently recovered) I would subject J to a through interrogation, bare room, bright lights and all. When my morbid curiosity has been satisfied, I would congratulate them, feel very very proud of knowing a gay couple, present them with wedding gifts and recommend they migrate to a country/state where gay marraiges are allowed.

Did you ever like 19? I'm assuming in the romantic sense. The answer is a firm no, because Schmetterling is as straight as a flagpole.

Would 6 and 17 make a good couple? (Huijie&Delin) You know, I don't think Huijie likes younger men. And also, Delin is kinda too mild and tame for Huijie. He'd probably die of a heart attack after a few dates. And if he isn't dead by then, Huijie would have expired of boredom.

Describe 3. (Zhiyong) Well. Mr. Nice Guy. Yitian's parents seem to hold him as the epitome of good character, so you know. Haha. Also quite smart and if I'm not wrong, addicted to TV. All in all, it is GAG's official opinion that he has the perfect personality for being a house-husband. Haha.

Do you think 8 is attractive? (Tian) Ah. Yes. Of course.

Tell me something about 7. (Woon Keat) Aka Nadia/other female gymnasts. Backup dancer and the N in GANG. Heheh. His favorite word (or rather, sound) is "Mng", which does not mean he wants to shop at Mango. Really fun person to hang out with.

Do you know any of 12's family? (Alvin) Nope.

What's 8's favourite? ( Tian) Favorite what? Well, if it's activity, it's probably slacking. Hahahaha :D If it's phrase, it's probably "sucks". Sorry Tian. Hehe.

What would you do if 11 confesses that he/she likes you?. (E-beth) I would laugh till I hyperventilated and died. That would solve all the potential knotty problems.

What language does 15 speak? (Wanting) English, Mandarin, Cantonese

Who is 9 going out with? (Juz) No one? I think... hehehee.

How old is 16 now? (Zhixuan) 17 going on 18? Or already 18?

When was the last time you talked to 13? (Bong) On Monday.

Who's 2 favourite band/singer? (Damian) I don't know. He listens to so many artistes, most of whom I didn't know existed until he blogged about them. Maybe you want to tell me? haha.

Would you date 4? (E.Chan) No, sorry. Just isn't my type. Good friend and gossip buddy though.

Would you date 7? (Woon Keat) Groan. No. No. No. Too many "mngs" will kill me.

Is 15 single? (WanTing) Yes. I THINK.

What's 10's last name? (Tsinli) Chua.

Would you ever be in a serious relationship with 11? (E-beth.) No. As I said. I would hyperventilate and die.

What school does 3 go to? (Zhiyong) Officer Cadet School. Bwaha.

Where does 6 live? (Huijie) Jurong. Somewhere. Hehe.

Whats your favourite thing about 5? (Timo) Haha. He can be quite funny at times especially when accusing people of things. And of course he helps be do stuff. Like buy games. :D Thanks Timo!

Schmetterling Misses School

Yes.... Schmetterling misses school...

The scratchy, insanely heat-insulating uniform...

The cranky lecturers that threatened to blow the roof off by the sole power of their diaphrams...

The blissful honey-drenched feeling of falling asleep during a particulary 'interesting' GP lesson...

The running around and squealing and generally acting crazy...

Watching Ger's scrunchie being used as a tennis ball..

The atrocious canteen food, with the milk tea that can give you diarrhea ..

The aromatic toilets, dimly lit with frightening orange lights...and of course the Flush that Went Mad..

The hours of lazing around at the class bench, chit-chatting about everything under and possibly over the sun..

The immensely popular astrology lectures given by Baron Bigsheepy...

The peals of laughter that ensue (mainly from me, I admit) when Alex gives Ger an almighty poke in the ribs..

Sigh... I want to go back to school :(

Schmetterling's Week)

Schmetterling has had a rather eventful week. And as Schmetterling has become hopelessly stupid and cannot think of any witty blog content, Schmetterling has decreed that her (dwindling) readers must of necessity be bored by her day-by-day account of events.

Don't worry it isn't that bad. I think.

Monday: Monday was a public holiday and was thus spent meaningfully sound asleep in bed. In her few waking hours Schmetterling went for her piano lesson, during which she was struck dumb by the unspeakably holy sight of her teacher's brand-new grand piano glowing with magnificence (or reflected light). Awed by its splendor, Schmetterling was of course less than attentive to her piano playing and was soundly reprimanded by the teacher for being a "borderline pass". Chi-chi the dog agreed. =(

Tuesday: Tuesday was a very bad day. Schmetterling was overworked in the office and returned home to find that her beloved Ah Bao had died of unknown causes. R.I.P, little one.

Wednesday: Wednesday was the accursed Day of Boredom. Because both of the executives Schmetterling was under had either vanished into a parallel universe or forgot what they wanted Schmetterling to do, Schmetterling spent most of the day at the office staring at the (blank) computer screen or hopping around the office (in sheer boredom). Also of note : Wednesday was the historic date when three quarters of the females in the office wore the same colour combination - black top and blue jeans. Also of interest : a tree fell on a colleague's car, causing Schmetterling much merriment.

Thursday: Thursday was Half-Day at work because Schmetterling had to collect something in the morning. Thursday evening was also Mythbuster (tv programme) night, in which the mad-scientist Mythbusters tested whether silicon breast implants would expand and explode at high altitude, among other amusing things involving massive explosions, a cellphone, gallons of gasoline, cheap CDs, lots of power tools,silk lingerie and a fire department.

Friday: Friday was Mad Day. The senior executive, knowing that her overproductive temporary staff would be gone on the morrow, leaving her with truckloads of paperwork, decided to make the most of Schmetterling's last day. Schmetterling spent the entire day frantically jabbing at the keyboard trying to key in about 10 kilos (of paper) worth of data. Due to her herioc effort, Schmetterling managed to complete this Herculean task with 6 minutes to spare. Hee hee.

Saturday: Upon arrival at her tuition student's house, Schmetterling was freaked out by a ferocious, rabid inch-long pet fish that threatened to break out of its precariously fragile plastic tank and go for Schmetterling's throat. Schmetterling unfortunately had to spend the rest of the session seated next to the said tank and jumping nervously each time the obviously mad fish bumped its face against the tank walls trying to get at her. Schmetterling thinks it is because she might have eaten his cousin for brunch. Schmetterling doesn't think anyone knows how it feels like being hated by a fish. Schmetterling has evil plans to spike Mad Fish's food if this continues.

R.I.P Ah Bao

I discovered him dead and in rigor when I came home from work today. I cannot find a possible cause of death - last night at around 2 a. m Bao was still his normal self...

Will miss you, Bao.