the quiet before the storm.

it's the night before the release of the 'a' level results, the signalling of the end of whatever peace of mind us eighteen year olds have been able to gather in the past three months.

there's something strangely poetic about tonight.. something strangely poignant, something in the air that makes one know one cannot possibly re-enact this same moment. like.. the calm before the storm. the building up of the waves before they crash. the huge drawn-in breath before you let out a humongous, wet, germ-ridden sneeze. it's almost like waiting for death.

the melodrama in the air tonight is evident. the various nicknames online that so evidently illustrate the communal anxiety, the wishing of luck to everyone [hopefully sincere. there IS something called the bell-curve, yes?], the musing of different avenues of death upon the receipt of one's results. it's like a maelstrom of negative emotions, a nexus in which poor, pathetic creatures such as myself lose themselves... in shared panic. it's probably the best way to trigger stress... shared panic. works every time. the damned ripple effect. i'm not going to talk to anyone tonight.

but yet amongst all the flurry and the nerves there are those brave souls who dare to stand up and say, "don't worry, lah!" of course, those brave souls often get railed at, or grumbled about behind their backs about their "overconfidence". it's unfair, really. they're just being those jewels in the rough who dare to use optimism to regard a practice so clearly without merit, it should be outlawed. they should implement an internet system. you log on if you want to know your results. if you don't, just.. never open it. and people won't have to endure that gnawing feeling of.. "shit what if i wrote this thing wrongly?" or "dammit, what if i forgot to..". that's the worst part. the waiting. it actually reminds me a little of war lit.

but despite all the anxiety and angst.. God still speaks to me in such small ways. James Dobson once said, "trust involves letting go and knowing God will catch you." it's written on a little card that i used to use as a bookmark. i chanced upon it again as i was looking through some things in my book closet, just a couple of minutes ago. it was a reminder, i'll bet.

i need to trust. i need to know that He's got a plan, and that's all that matters.

it doesn't matter.

Lord, help me to realise it doesn't matter.

"Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid." -Isa. 12:2

good luck, everybody. God bless.

bye bye big brother.

while you were packing i thought about all the little things i'd miss about you.

i'll miss the way you moaned and told me to "f*** off, b***h" whenever i hugged you. i'll miss the way you made me nauseous everytime i sat in your car. i'll miss the way you ordered everyone to get you a drink and tried to cuff them on the head when they wouldn't. i'll miss the way you listen to abominably loud music in your car and tried to sing along although the volume made you so deaf that it was impossible to keep in tune. i'll miss the way you would sneak into my room at two am and irritate jolene by trying to wake her up. i'll miss the way you shouted at joash to do push-ups and then once he was down, grin so widely everybody knew you took perverse pleasure from it. i'll miss the way i always smelt you before i saw you. heh. i'll miss the way you always tried to defend us from the parentals when we were being scolded, and how you inevitably ended up caught in the crossfire. i'll miss the way you love to rub your four As in our poor, less intelligent faces. i'll miss the way you insisted on sitting in the front seat ever since you were eight. i'll miss the way you always tried to act like you were so much older and so much more mature than us, even though you yourself didn't really know what you were talking about. i'll miss the way you cracked jokes that were nowhere near funny, but somehow seemed hilarious because of your straight face as you told them.

but most of all, i'll miss your unapologetically abject stupidity. it made us all laugh.

bye bro. take care of yourself. i love you.

so who's afraid of the big, bad happy ending?

today, class, we are going to deal with a topic which is very, very close to my heart. please forgive me if i sound needlessly impassioned during this entry, due to a pressing need to drum a very important fact into the poor, uneducated heads of male cretins all over the world. the romantic fiction genre, or as men universally term it, ROMANCE NOVELS, is being severely underrated and unjustly condemned. and today, i HAVE to address this problem.

the merit of the romantic genre is often ignored or disregarded, which makes it easier, and less taxing on the brain, for males to very callously label all books of that genre as "trash." naturally, i have to begin this entry by clearly delineating all the positive qualities of this sort of fiction, as to dispel the notion that romantic fiction hold no real, tangible merit.

firstly, romantic fiction is doubtlessly one of the best selling genres in the book market, and thus, it evidently holds great economical merit. a survey conducted in north america testifies to the fact that more than fifty-one million women in north america reads a romance novel at least once a week. not impressive enough for you? the same survey also states that these fifty-one million women altogether spend well over a billion us dollars per year to indulge in romantic fiction. how's that for economic value? and that's just in one country.

"well, popularity alone doesn't guarantee its value! what about its literary value?" you might argue. think about it. some of the greatest writers in the past couple of centuries have written, both prose and poetry, strictly about love and romance. to cite a very obvious and often overused example, Jane Austen. needless to say, she is known by popular opinion to be one of the most brilliant writers to emerge from the romantic genre. Other evident examples include Emily Bronte (one of my favourite authors), Lord Byron, Ann Radcliffe, arguably Marcel Proust, even the great bard himself, Mr. William Shakespeare! dare you question the literary value of their works? how then, can one so frivolously discard romantic fiction as a product of popular culture without literary value? how many of you harsh critics out there have ever picked up a romance novel? i think not.

of course, then one would combat this argument with one of their own. "but romance novels are so torrid! they're morally incorrect! all the characters have movie-star good looks or great bodies! look at what they symbolise? what they convey to our influenceable children?"

and what, precisely, is that? what romance novels display, essentially, are very basic principles that are required for one to achieve a proper "happy ending". passion, of course, is necessary, hence the "torrid, vulgar" scenes, which are often neither torrid nor vulgar. with all fiction, authors seek to show, not tell, and is it not more effective and literally rewarding for the reader to read about the subtle touches and actions that make up the.. torridity, or, after the whole build-up of romance and courting and the beginnings of a blissful relationship, be left with a short sentence: "they had sex." of course, an author, when writing in the perspective of either protagonists, have to create in the reader the feeling of being "in love", as the reader is led into the point of view of the protagonist. in general, people in love tend to think the world of their loved one, and even if said loved one had a club foot, a huge boil in the middle of his/her nose or a deformity framing the entire edge of his/her face, there is a great likelihood that the protagonist would find beauty in that repulsive countenance. hence, beauty, or at least the image of beauty projected from the POV of the protagonist, is a necessity in romantic fiction. how can one then convict the author for doing what is necessary in the literal arena to achieve his/her intended effect on the reader? ridiculous, isn't it?

naturally, the more intelligent of the cretins would then rebutt with the universally approved fact that "romance novels are 'trash' because they are UNREALISTIC. they are overly idyllic, idealising scenarios that probably would never occur in real life." yes. true. it is hardly likely that one is going to one day be transported back to Regency england or the old West, or fall in love with a vampire or be rescued by a knight who travelled through time. [for the non-romance readers, romantic fiction does sometime deal with time-travel, paranormal or historical scenarios.] but isn't that the appeal of fiction in the first place? the escape. "no," they argue, "it must be true to life.. applicable and realistic!" well, i would like to know then, especially from the POV of males, how, in any sense, is Dan Brown remotely realistic? finding the Holy Grail through a series of clues left behind in paintings? REALISTIC? TRUE TO LIFE?! please. same goes for Jeffrey Archer, Tom Clancy, Michael Crichton, and half of the male-adored generic authors. not that i don't love their books, i do! i'm just proving a point. if i can't label them as "trash" just because they're unrealistic, then... what's your argument?

some would then reply with the comment that, "not only are romance novels 'trashy' because they're unrealistic, it's also because they are so utterly PREDICTABLE." "it's brainless," they say, "there's no conflict! you know, even if they're having some great big argument and you get all weepy and sentimental, that there's going to be a happily ever after in the end!" well, firstly, if you believe that, you haven't read many of Sparks' novels. i guarantee you that one in five of his books that you pick out, one of the protagonists is gonna die for some sudden and absurd reason and the other, in some books, mourn for eternity, or in others, move on happily, and in others, get a sequel where they fall in love again with another girl/guy. some happily ever after, huh? but that's romance for you. predictable? not likely.

guys argue that romance novels are the "chick flicks" of the literary world. "chick flicks," they say, "are trashy. because they're predictable. happily ever afters in the end." given that romance novels ARE the 'chick flicks' of the literary arena, and they ARE predictable, are not fairy-tales, disney flicks, childrens' books, even ACTION movies, equally predictable? good wins evil. that HAS to be the way, or our kids would end up jaded by the world by their fifth birthday. so are we going to write off fairy tales as trash because they're predictable? please.

of course, again, romance novels are also deemed trashy because they're all "mushy" and "sentimental" and they only cater to women. i am not even going to dignify that utterly sexist comment with a retort. i am, instead, going to give people the benefit of the doubt. taken into consideration that romance novels only cater to women [which they don't, btw.]. are they going to be condemned for then serving their purpose? correct me if i'm wrong, but cartoons, also only cater to children. are they then going to be criticised for having a lack of emotional depth BECAUSE THEY FULFIL THEIR PURPOSE? for pete's sake! they're SUPPOSED TO BE MUSHY AND SENTIMENTAL. just like action movies are supposed to be BRAINLESS AND BRAWNY with many things being smashed and cars bursting into flames. it's their FUNCTION.

okay. breathe.

now, at the end of my not-so-lengthy dissertion, i would like to encourage any non-romance reader or even one of those emotionally immature, juvenile critics of this genre to go out and purchase themselves a romantic fiction novel. i heartily recommend anything by Julia Quinn, Suzanne Enoch or Lisa Kleypas. If you're into more contemporary romance, read Susan Elizabeth Phillips or Deirdre Martin. no one's going to question your macho mojo, okay? maybe if you really read a romance cover to cover and use colourless glasses to truly enjoy the sensation of falling in love alongside a fictional character, then we can truly see who's afraid of the big, bad, happy ending.

ciao.

life at the office.

i am a very naughty girl. i am using the clinic computer to blog. if i get found out, i'd get fired.

shhh. don't tell anyone.

:)

cheap thrills are the highlights of my life.

update.

just a relatively recent photo update on what i've been doing in my life besides musing the maudlin memories of growing up, listening to johnny cash, planning trips to taiwan, watching 'the sisterhood of the travelling pants' and eating many many many mandarin oranges.

my darling joel, my very latest infatuation.

the folks and the fiends.

does this look familiar?

my lovely cousins! they're the best. :)

suemorly aka my darling rat. isn't she lovely? and so full of smiles and approachable too. :)

the current state of my dresser.

all in all, my life's a breeze. i need a job. or something to do. i'm considering reading joshua's entire A level biology and chem notes, just for fun. maybe i'll do really badly and retake my a levels in the science stream! hmm. that or go to poly. decisions, decisions.

ciao.