Monthly Archives: September 2014

A Maybe Hiatus (plus Updates)

Hahah first off I know y’all are laughing at the idea of a hiatus, like eh Char you don’t even post here THAT frequently, how does it call for a hiatus?? I know, I know. Sorry I use this blog in a more unconventional way, I only come on here to blog when I have so called ~deeper~ thoughts/insights. Friends pls don’t mock, even I have my deep times okay. Except that they occur as rarely as my posts are on this platform HAHA. For more (regular) updates, please proceed to my Dayre (in an orderly fashion) omfG i’m so QB i can slap myself rn.

don’t ask me why I chose this username, I can’t remember and I’m lazy to change ok!!!! I know pastor preached that the worst form of laziness is the laziness of the mind but…sorry ok!! These are but trivial matters, plz forgive me 😦

Okay enough of my lame shit. Updates.

I’m currently on the last day (read: FEW! HOURS!) of my three day spanned (LONG!) (AWESOMER!!) break after a tiring as heck prelims. Gosh a voice in my head just told me promos. DAFUG??!! Hope it’s not foreshadowing. WAKE UP CHAR WAKE UP. Anyway as I was saying, it really is my last proper break before saddling down and descending into hell.

Wake at six,

Sleep at twelve

Into fun we do not delve

Unless you want to die

(hah fak as you can see I gave up on the rhyming)

More about the break, it was super rejuvenating for my soul; I spent almost equal parts of it connecting with friends and on myself, exploring and reading. Just, wonderful 🙂 if this is what the post A’s life promises more of, I’ll gladly dash through hell and return on the brightside 🙂

Asdlflgl (sorry for the drastic change of mood tho) prelims over foreshadows results. Damn I really have no clue how I could have done. And usually that’s not a good sign. Well there’s nothing much I can do anyway, save for a good night’s sleep. I’ve a feeling it’s gonna be the best one for quite a while.

Gosh I’m making it out to be like I’m going for a way HHAHA. To my 1-2 loyal readers…it’s just the A Level’s. Assuming I make it past prelims. Can’t imagine the embarrassment my parents and family & I would have to encounter if I were to retain. That’s not an option anymore.

Kay, signing off now, here’s to the post A’s life of Gossip Girl, PLL and all my guilty pleasures 😉



Found something I had typed in motes while on the trip to Tasmania, shall post it anyway

(note: it is incomplete)

Alternating between soft grass and stony gravel

It was like being transported into heaven, or hell, depending on the perspective. No wifi, no television, and strictly old fashioned ways of doing things.

The buzzing of fat flies was nothing short of obnoxious.

Tasmania is the land of planters. Different breeds of flowers adorned the doorsteps of every Tasmanian home. Pots and pots of psychedelic flowers, brightening up every household.

Ruby, Sapphire, Gem, and Pearl are four pretty dogs on the Seaview Farm.

Chapter 1, Ruby:
Ruby, 14 and a half years old and partially deaf, was the sweetest out of all for me. A black and white dog, she sprinted around, practically a ball of excitement and energy, when we first arrived. Julia said she’d never seen Ruby this excited “in quite a while”. Ruby is just the sweetest. She’d lie on the ground and put a paw on your paw, begging for pats. She’d gaze into your eyes, sending all the love she could possibly give just from one look. Julia taught us that if we pat your thighs loudly it was the universal dog sign language for “Come Here!”. So we patted, and Ruby always, always came. Even though she sometimes lay on the floor panting, out of breath, there is no doubt about the depth of love she is capable of giving to twelve strangers she barely knew.

Chapter 2, Sapphire:
“Sapphire! Sit!!”
“Sapphire! Get out of there!”
Sapphire is a working dog. She has two black tufts of fur above her eyes, resembling eyebrows, giving her a stern look 24/7. But once we get to know her, she’s a fun-loving, mischievous yet disciplined dog. She sticks by Frank’s side, and comes at his beck and call. Her job agenda was plenty, including herding the sheep, chasing the ducks, among others. It was hilarious seeing how she tried to sneak up on the sheep in the pen.

Ahhhh looking at this just made me reminisce about the time there; short but sweet. T’was a good getaway indeed :”)







Eight words no one wants to say, no one wants to hear, especially not so from an eighty year old grandmother of four lying limply on her bed.

It may be an overused line in your Mediacorp dramas to you but when you get told that straight in the face, you’ll wish that it was from another one of those scenes.

But it wasn’t. It was so very real. Heart-wrenching. As much as it was difficult to hear the words being pronounced in difficulty, I know it must have been much, much harder to say. And I still cannot believe it.

The grandmother who used to pamper us with homecooked meals that never ever tasted the same since she passed the baton over to the maid, the grandmother who used to smile till her eyes crinkled behind her gold-rimmed glasses. My grandmother.

They say it is not until you are about to lose something, only will you begin to treasure it. Someone in this case, and it is that much much terrifying. I can name all the differences in the homecooked food ever since my grandmother stopped cooking, the black bean soup now has more peanuts, the long bean fried rice has less dried shrimp and so on.

The grandmother who taught me how to eat my chee cheong fun the proper way, with chilli and dried shrimp. The grandmother who once ran to school to pick me up in the rain because she was afraid I’d fall sick only to have me run back and wait at my neighbour’s house that ended in the Lashing Of A Lifetime. The grandmother who scolded me for rolling my eyes at her years ago as a defiant child, but now can barely it up straight.

There is something about watching a person age and body condition deteriorate, it can be liked to a tree. Strong and blooming in the spring and summer, the beautiful colours of their petals brightening up the atmosphere, then shedding, slowing in the autumn and winter. Slowly, slowly. Until there is nothing but an exterior. Is that somone you know? Or someone you knew?

I took at good look at my grandmother tonight, on her bed, struggling with every word just to talk to me. The wrinkles surrounding her eyes, the glazed look she was giving me. Her grasp was limp and shivering. At that moment I wanted so badly, a time machine, so I could wind ten years back so I could my healthy grandmother again. I hate myself for not spending enough time with her, for walking past her room door every morning without talking to her first. For putting school over her in my list of priorities.

I love my grandmother very much, more than the ocean loves the shore, more than words can describe and God I beg of you, to not take her away.

What The Construction Site Cat Taught Me

Hi guys, I’m suuuper tired now and it’s only 9:24pm…bet it’s cos of the morning cycle -_- unfit level MAXIMUM I’m not even kidding.

Okay, now to the main point. You know how sometimes people talk about how animals can teach them a life lesson/values? Case in point, Dan’s hamster and Cleo in Helen Brown’s circumstance.

Well yesterday a cat taught me a lesson. I was walking back from a study session and I passed by the construction site, it was early evening and the sun was setting I remember. I had to cross this road to get home but while waiting for the green man I sw a patch of orange and white on the grass. Then an inconspicuous meow. But a meow nontheless. I approached the grass patch and there was a cute kitten! (OR  a malnourished cat)

Excited me approached the cat and meowed. It meowed back and even followed me for a few steps. I was bursting with inside. Then it stopped moving. (To save time I’m goig to summarize the entire grandmother story as best as I can)

Basically I coaxed the kitten/cat into crossing the overhead bridge, carried it across the carpark, and past a few blocks to where I knew there would be food for the cat. (An uncle would feed strays every night at a block opposite mine) (for this I even googled “How to carry a cat”) (#dedication #ilovecatsclub) The kitten/cat eventually reached the block and I was exhausted. But I had my work cut out for it. The kitten engaged in a long and intense staring contest with the “Big Boss” cat of the block and I was so terrified that a catfight (literally) would erupt. (Anyway my parents arrived in the end and convinced me that all would be okay)

Fast forward to tonight, I saw the SAME kitten at the construction site where I’d saved it from. I was so shocked I even wondered for a moment whether it was the same kitten. And whether I did the right thing. Okay moral of the story, the kitten taught me not to move things by myself to where I assumed that thing/person needed to be, and not to be a busybody to poke my nose into others’ business. Everything has a time and place, and the person directly involved should know if he/she needs help and I don’t need to make any assumptions.

well now that I’m done writing everything out I find that it was quite pointless. Damn. #YOLO man HAHAHAHA goodnight.





Well first of all, hello to that one ciewer who visits this little space of mine almost religiously, everyday. Your support is much appreciated and I’m really sorry about the lack of posts but I really only blog when there’s been something that ) strikes me especially hard. (Not literally of course or else I’d be typing this from a hospital bed)

Okay a quick update for anyone who cares at all, currently in the midst of a week-long holiday, which in Singapore merely means a week devoid of school-related activities AND school, if you’re lucky enough. To be fair this hol’s been kind enough to me, to rejuvenate, catch up on Masterchef, and mug (not necessarily in order haha)

So, on to the point of this post. Let’s just say that my weight has been on a steady increase since secondary school, I’m saying this because taking it back further to primary school would be an even bigger blow for my weak heart.

It was always a few kg here and there and I never really got bothered by my weight except after the occasional gathering when the aunties would be like “ohh you put on some weight ah!” Yeah, real subtle. Thanks I didn’t know that already. As I was saying, I never really cared about my weight, rather, I assumed I’d be in the healthy range. My my would I be proven wrong after each depressing height and weight session.

Fast forward to JC, my weight skyrocketed to its highest value ever. At least in SC we had to maintain with our appetites, what with the sleevles pinafores and constrictive belt. In Nanyang, it was whole new tory. An array of food was always available, together with the numerous breaks we were granted, my greediness for food knew no bounds. Damn.

I gained weight like crazy, and still didnt take notice. Until today. Brandising my trusy Ikea paper ruler thingy, I measured my waist. Or so I thought. It might as well have been the waist of an elephant and no one would have known the difference. I had been too good at hiding from the truth, ignoring my weight gain. The worst thing is that the weight was somewhat acceptable, it was the measurements that scared the shit out of me. Highest of all high numbers I’ve ever “achieved”.

To say I was sad would be like saying Roger Federer was disappointed he lost the chance of another US Open Final- a gross understatement. My world literally came crashing down.

I guess that’s what you get for one too many claypot rice(s). I’m hoping that I can lose this damned belly bulge with the help of exam stress and Blogilates. Please please please. No one wants to be fat AND stupid.


Well that was depressing. Sorry my dear reader. Had to get to out somewhere.

(true story by the way)