nostalgia

I didn't actually expect to cry, i just did, i cried.

I did another, yet another, mount st. helens.

All i did was pass Ms Yip the letter i wrote her and said," i hope this makes you cry". Which now i suspect was the wrong thing to say because it just triggered this dam of tears i never knew i had and they out-poured themselves rght in front of teachers and students and the rest of the hyatt hotel to see. Don't i just love the attention.

So there i was bubbling right in front of Ms Yip and i was in this weird state of shock and sadness, wtaching everyone watch me watch the reaction on her face. i think she was rather taken aback by my sudden out burst, she offered tissue as usual and her hugged me.

I suppose I'm glad i did because i wanted her to know how much i will miss her and how much our friendship meant to me. I know wht Mrs Wong said is true," this is not goodbye, it's till we meet again", but it's different. After i officially leave school (which i have since last night) it will never be the same, I cannot just go to the staff room whenever i feel like i have to talk to her, i cannot just sit in the front seat of her car.

Last night i felt like i was in a frantic rush to take pictures with everyone, i felt as though i needed to imprint that night into my mind forever, collecting memories of everyone, how they looked, how they laughed, how they were, are, perhaps will be, a part of my life. As i have mentioned before it feels strange to know that i will not be wearing the same uniform, the same badge, going through the same routine i have for the last ten years or so. I actually realise how much, how important my shcool means to me; how much i will miss it.

Although this comes as no surprise, the impact of it is much greater than i ever imgained it to be. i knew eventually that i would leave, that i would be singing the school song for the last time. i've realised how much CHIJ has moulded me into the person i've become today, how lucky i am to possess unchanging life values, how significant my secondary education has been for me. it is true what Pa said that these four years in school will change me into the person i will be for the rest of my life, with that said i am proud and honoured to say that because of IJ i like who i am as a person, i feel a sense of confidence in myself.

I've been given the green card to succeed in whatever i do.

my decision

MY DECISION IS JESUS

in heaven i don't have to make decisions

I think I detest making decisions.

Sometimes i wish i could have someone make them for me. Perhaps life would be simpler.

Oh yea, I'm sure. When is life simple anyway.

differing opinions

I suppose when it comes to differing opinions the reactions that follow can be extremely drastic.

Imagine a time when you thought that the blouse on sale in Future State was pretty, its little intricate designs printed on the collar really catches your attention (also imagine you have eagle eyes for detail). Your friend, who willingly tagged along when you pleaded for company and sound fashion advice looks at you with a constipated way. "Are you sure?", she questions when she realises you're shoving a hideous blouse up her face. You only nod enthusiastically ignorant to her extreme discomfort. She then blinks quite frantically.

OK so two things may eventually happen. She may think, one: this poor girl is in serious need of help, she probably thinks Prada is Prata. She then goes on to mention how much she pities you and how she is going to take up the responsibility of making you the next Paris Hilton.
OR: (she may think) this girl is insane. Why did i even agree to accompany her? Should I fake it and tell her how much the blouse matches the colour of her braces? Damn, I'm not doing this again.

So there we have it, two beautifully drastic situations. Neither of which is more desirable, choosing would probably be an extremely inhumane way of asking how i would like to be humiliated. The former situation could land you with a fashion mentor but you labeled as a charity case, the latter could spare you the agony of hanging out with a fashion snob but leave you suffering alone with a hideous blouse. Not easy.

It's actually pretty funny when you think about it. It's just a blouse really.