There’s no one in town I know
You gave us some place to go.
I never said thank you for that.
I thought I might get one more chance.
What would you think of me now,
So lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that.
Now I’ll never have a chance.May angels lead you in.
cannot really see the highlights leh.i mean can but. haha. looks like how it does when pam dyes my hair for me :D hahah. not like i paid money for it! i want brighter highlights. this is so not as worth it as it shld hv been but it is okay. haha. later is pam’s convocation.haha.i think that its also lit’s convocation.hopefully i’ll see shiv and c.p. pity its not a morning one then more relax.haha. aiyah i need shorts. damn it! cheap cheap ones.oh wells. its already july.school’s going to start soon. i haven’t mopped the place yet.i am.. i feel so lazy. anyway CONGRATS PAM! WOO HOOO. GRADUATEEEE!
considering i dont do anything.my reading of books has been stalled.all piled up already. need to pay fines to library also. so sad ah. naan oru terrible child. ahaha. i need to call citibank to ask them why so long already haven send me my pin! i think .. 6-7 weeks already.. so much for the “we’ll send it to you in 5 working days”..
oh well its a bit sad. as it is so few mods are offered. the tutorial and the seminar of two of the 3 mods clash.. =)) lucky me =))
haha.. i have tried to tidy up the right side of my blog.. so messy previously.. you prob won’t notice.. and
I HATE TWITTER.
happy july 1st! we’re halfway to 2010!
after all the many months of deciding,
i’ve finally decided to get a pair of converse sneakers.
the next qn is what color.well we all know that after 3 mths i’ll finally hv decided on the black one. oh oh oh. me and my inability to decide.
there aren’t much south asian mods to choose from. probably doing.
1.SN2277 – Indian Communities in South East Asia
2.SN3279 – Language, Culture, and Identity in India
This module focuses on the relationship between language, culture and identity in India. It looks at the roles that languages, cultures, and literatures play in regional identities in India. Through case studies of Hindi, Urdu, Gujarati, Punjabi, Marathi and Bengali it investigates the significance of language in regional identities. It also addresses the issue of how language and culture have been arenas in which contending notions of Indian identity have been developed. The module introduces students to the importance of understanding cultural diversity in India in relation to the rise of India as a contemporary world power.
OI MISS AQILAH KASSIM, DO THIS WITH ME LA..YOU WILL SURELY GET APLUS OKAY!
3. SN3280 – Governing Public Services in India
girl I don’t want to go to bed mad at you
and I don’t want you to go to bed, mad at me
no I don’t want to go to bed mad at you
and I don’t want you to go to bed, mad at me
my friend told me she sad,cos mj is dead, and he is godsent.check out my replies.
mojo jo jo says:
ohh.. man
MJ = Mangamma Jack = me
then i say! he go back to heaven. then she say..why may..why!
mojo jo jo says:
cos..sigh
god was tired of the beatles and the rolling stones..
mojo jo jo says:
he wanted to listen to “in” music..so he thought..hey why not give m.j
now this is what zai had to say to this
zolli says:
omg
ur fren seems like an ardent fan
how can u crush her feelings lik ethis
mojo jo jo says:
oh dear.. im sorry
i didnt think =(
zolli says:
go say sorry
now
mojo jo jo says:
realy?? kko
ok i say already!!!!
zolli says:
good girl
mojo jo jo says:
ok .. i didnt think it was mean
i thought it was funny
zolli says:
no its mean if u were saying it to a serious person
pple like me u tell i will prob say god sent him to really walk on the moon
but these type of things u cant say to die hard fans
mojo jo jo says:
wow.
zolli says:
wow what wow
mojo jo jo says:
i didnt noe!
zolli says:
how can u not knoe
***
so my point i that i wouldnt have said this like 2 years ago. haha. i find the whole thing quite funny.
red eye is here again
red eye is here to stay
oooh woosh oooh woosh
red eye is here again
as usual.
there’s something wrong with me.
i just don’t know what it is!
sunday times – 14 june 2009, gilbert goh wrote in to say that we should “spend more time with your elderly parents“.
“my mum is now a shadow of her former vibrant self. Her hair is grey, and she hardly smiles. I believe the problem is that she feels bored and neglected as no one talks to her much. Most of us are too busy with work or our social lives to sit down and chat with her.”
LIKE DUH?!
I went to pack my things together and they didn’t even try to stop me. My father told my mother to let me go, that I was an even greater disappointment to him than my sister. The problem, he said, was that he had loved us too much and given us enough freedom. Maybe he didn’t love us enough. If he did, he could have let us be ourselves.
Maybe loving us didn’t even enter into the equation. It was all about keeping us clothed and fed and doing his best to do his duty and this was, for him, loving us. Seeing me married off was being a good father. No matter how much I argued that it was important to be happy, he couldn’t understand. Happiness was a luxury, an expectation, you weren’t supposed to be happy, you were supposed to get on with it and try to make the best of every situation.
‘See, Nina, you talks always about the feelings, if you talks about the feelings who will pay the bills. One day you can be happy, one day you can be sad, the feelings they comes and goes but the routine this never changes.’
- Preethi Nair, Beyond Indigo
Two Wolves
Cherokee Wisdom .
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.
He said, “My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all.
One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.”
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: “Which wolf wins?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
Went to the library yesterday, borrowed 8 books. now reading Amy Tan’s The Hundred Secret Senses. Why? Because I was waiting for a friend once, think 2 months back, and i was early and she was late, so i went to TIMES and i happened to pick up this book and read it, so finished about a chapter in the shop. so. . . i decided to borrow it and finish reading it.
the only prob with staying at home so much is that i don’t like leaving home.. mwahahah… can’t wait til july so i can pay my bills.. of cos that means i’ll be left with a grand total of like 45 bucks or something.. but shld be enough for the occassional meet up or for buying coke.
today is a terrible day, feel so sick, super bad migraine, my left eye is really terrible, it was like kinda, yucky, and red, then it stopped being red and just .. felt weird. i dont noe how to describe it so i’m putting off seeing a doctor just yet, i still haven’t paid for my previous doctor’s bill….
anyone who is a friend and who reads my blog and owns an aspire one? havent used my laptop since, almost 2 weeks +, my charger died. :) pls lend me if possible. thanks! hate not being able to use my own laptop.
i remember the first time we tried to take a picture of ms g – during a tutorial – and it turned out like this – i remember how i didn’t dare to take the pic and this brilliant friend of mine decided to volunteer herself as a … as a … substitute shot who would still be the main focus of the picture. back in jc1.
and we very rarely gave presentations, to think about it … this is imran’s group presenting on gothic genre or something of the sort, i believe, also in j1. and one of the sneak shots of ms g.
her blog is on my links, at: gatsr.blogspot.com
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i was… and am glad that many of my ex-classmates turned up for ms g’s wake. my very busy, diverse class.
i can still remember how she used to call my name. she just couldn’t get it completely right. anyhow. ever since my graduation, i have gone down to visit her, at least once a year, always with my classmates who loved her just as much, or even more. sometimes i’d see her a little bit more, perhaps just 10 minutes more, because i’d also go down with the councillors. although, the last few times we always just missed her …
dear ms g. the music room, her smile, the cute socks, the little tail, the teddy bear in the pigeon hole, hindi videos, wonderful literature lessons, random life stories, talking about her nephew, some updates on her health that she talked about so easily, ah, and how the guys always had to sit in front and the girls could sit at the back, her bag, othello, her tray, her going through the texts and us trying to write down whatever she said on our books, her immense displeasure at the senior batch’s lit grades, the random people she called to role play/read out parts of whatever text we were discussing, antony and cleopatra, her smile, the werewolf, jokes to crack the class, her completing her masters (yey yey yey), and giving as chocolates as celebration, going to the Istana to get an award, her crazy sense of humour, how my other lit teacher used to be her student, her assignments (exam papers) given back with her writing in purple and orange and other colours in her ms g’ish handwriting, her explicitly implicit and implicitly explicit ‘never say die’ attitude, and oh ….. what a wonderful inspiration to us all.
ms g - "phenomenally. phenomenal woman, thats me."
[this poem was posted on aqi's blog, this lovely poem, which, when we attended the wake, we heard her loved one read it out... ]:
Ms Rosalind G
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight.
I am in the starshine of the night.I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in everything.Do not stand at my grave & cry,
I am not there, I do not die-Mary E Frye, 1932
I can almost hear her say these words …
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