A few weeks ago I tried to bake a New York Cheesecake.
With lemon.

Looks perfect.
I'm amazed by my first attempt at one of those "temperamental" cakes.

Looks good?
Problem is, I bought banana essence instead of the vanilla ones.
And I used it before my sister finally asked
why I'm baking a banana cheesecake.

People! Put the items back in their right tray and don't confuse the next person!
Although, I suppose I'm a little at fault for not checking the label.
Humph.

Here's what I did with the banana essence, and a new bottle of vanilla essence
(I checked the label this time).

Banana cake!

Fabian asked why it's not rectangular.
Hey, it's not my fault that the only mold I have is circular.
It's hardly going to affect the taste, anyway.

メッチャ美味しい!
I don't care if it might sound biased- it does taste good.

This is the mashed banana (mixed with eggs)
that was used in the cake, by the way.
Fabian said it looked disgusting.
Hello? As if the finished cake was going to look like that.

That's the Chocolate Cheesecake I baked last Friday
for YM's (belated) birthday.

YM cutting the... difficult-to-cut cake.
Cold cheesecake is really hard.
Or maybe it's the amount of cheese in that recipe.
My father called it a brick.
Both physically, and the way it fills up your stomach.

Should have used more crushed Oreo biscuits for the bottom.

Went to the Singapore National Stadium last Saturday with SL.

It's kinda sad that it'll soon be torn down
for the contruction of the new stadium.


The whole atmosphere will be completely different; all high-tech and stuff.
There's something unique and special about how the current stadium felt.
Yes, it looks run-down, even kinda messed up, especially the wet floor and wooden seats after a rain, but it's part of the country's history.
More than 40 years of being sat on by Singaporeans,
and year after year of National Day Parades held on its grounds.
I can't help but feel a sense of loss, somewhat akin to
when a small, old eatery that had always been there in the neighbourhood
was going to be renovated into some new, bright restaurant.
It feels foreign; impersonal.

What's that?!
That, is my secondary school flag.
And we were at the stadium that day to support TK Band
for the SYF Outdoor Display Band competition held every two years.
It has been a tradition since we've entered TK seven years ago,
a school event, even.
Although SL and I are way graduated,
it's a habit that we find impossible to break.

TK Band!

And~ the ending formation!

Digressing a little.
I was busy snapping photographs of the stadium
because the new one won't have those lights.
*Points upwards*
And I wanted something to remember.
I'm just sentimental that way.

The flag!
The guy standing on the right of it is a senior
who's even more graduated than us
(by at least two years, if memory serves me correctly).
Like I said, a habit difficult to break out of.

More photos of the lights.

Post-competition.

For the first time since 1998,
we didn't get the Best Outdoor Display Band award,
even though we still had the Gold with Honours award.
Stupid [curses]Deyi[/curses].

Still, one has to admit that after our batch, our major CCAs
like the band and the choir (W00Ts! TK Choir! *Ahem*)
hadn't been able to match up to the standards
we've done our darnest to maintain back then.
Of course, our batch is still the best. Am not biased!
*Shifty eyes*

TK Band may have lost this year, but we're still the only school
who has the Best Outdoor Display Band for five consecutive competitions.
And there's always 2010.

Everytime we go back for band competition, I'm always overcome by how much I miss the school. Every cheer is still fresh in my head, and the school song still resonates in my mind.
Plus, it helped to have better lyrics than the tacky stuff most other schools have.
Honestly, other than the obvious reason of supporting the school for the competition, it's also to feed my selfish need to experience again how it used to feel, being in the sea of white and green (and red, blue, purple and yellow. Who's the dumbass who came up with the idea of houses? TK is WHITE and GREEN. We don't need other plebian ideas and colours! And- goodness- purple clashes with green in the most DISGUSTING way).
There's a connection I have felt nowhere else. There's a palpable bond we have with each other, and with every cheer and shout given in perfect unison, there's no doubt that it's practically tangible; that everyone knows it's there.
I mean, there has to be a reason why graduates from so many years ago come back every time for school events.
Also, the person who mans the chicken rice stall in the school canteen comes for every competition, and is just as enthusiastic as the rest of the school body throughout the affair.
How cute is that?

Now, before I continue with the rest of the post, I must first reassure anyone reading, that I'm not suicidal. Sure, I've contemplated it, but it's a wasteful way to die. And everyone know's how I am when it comes to wasting things.
Anyway, moving on~

That's a cut I got from packing documents into cartons
to be sent off for storage at some warehouse.

It looks mild on a photo, but honestly, it's nasty.
I didn't realise it until I was washing my hands and it started to sting.

Here's another cut I got from who-knows-where.

That's a healed scratch on my left foot
that I got from the edge of the cupboard under my desk.

Seriously, in the one month of working in this company,
I've gotten more paper cuts than I would usually get in a single year.
I should claim hazard pay.

Now, after more than two months of using my laptop on the floor because my desk had too much mess piled up on it, it's finally back on said desk!
I suppose it's also a good thing for my back, no more bending over for hours every night.

I've decided that I had procrastinated too long
through the final examinations, and work, blah blah blah...
Took the whole afternoon to reorganise things and clean out my room.
The dust was horrible.

My now tidy table!

Look at the floor!
No clutter! No mess!
You can even tell that it's wood!

I reckon my room will stay this way until next year.
Or, for another month, at least. To be objective.

Labels: Baking, Photos, TK

Okay, so I don't really give much thoughts to my birthday, other than it's the one of many that compels us (my secondary school friends and I) to meet up, because we're all too busy with the different things in life that our birthdays end up being the only days when we can truly free up mutual hours to spend together.

But still, it stings that people who you think are friends enough didn't say anything, and had practically disappeared off the face of the earth since graduating from Polytechnic.
Not to mention that I had found out about a somewhat important life-event only through someone else's blog.
Can you believe that?

Then again, there are those who I've never expected to remember my birthday who have sent me well wishes. And I hardly talk to some of those people (as compared to the previous category of I-guess-friends), and at least one of them was someone I don't recall ever telling my birthday to.
And where does that put the rest of you, whom I've been patiently waiting for a message from, whom I did not dare hope to receive a message from, whom, as a result had my mind dancing and singing in an irritating chorus of "I told you so!"?

Pssh. Whatever.
I should curb my tendency to complain. I like to complain. It's an outlet for me to utilise my vocabulary when I'm in the mood, and when my mental thesaurus is feeling sufficiently cooperative.
Still, it's a nasty habit, and I should try to reduce the quantity and frequency of which I rant.

Anyway, today was my first day of working alone. Like, really alone, because the other guy who was helping me along the first few days went back to his studies and thus I had a miniscule controlled and calm inner panic session on Sunday because, what if I'm still as muddled as I was two weeks ago? What if I screw up? What if I felt stupid to the others working there? What if...

Ah... Bad habit number two: Paranoia.
I drive people (and myself) nuts with it.

Well, as it turned out, things weren't too bad today. At least, not as bad as my fatalistic mind had made it out to be.
*Huge sigh of relief*

One day at a time. Just gonna take one day at a time.

It's bittersweet, the hold you still have on me.
And yet it's pathetic, how I allow you to remain having an iota of propriety over my being. I won't say it's my heart that you have, because you didn't have it, and I was too young and not well-versed with the workings of people-relations enough to know how to go about giving it.
What you had was my time, hours I've wasted when I could get home earlier to get some rest and TV time just so we'd sit together for twenty minutes during the bus ride home, then chat for another ten minutes at the risk of my mother getting annoyed for my not getting home faster. A risk I took, because it's you, and that you're only less than a metre away from me.
You had my attention, and I didn't recognise it until years later, that you literally had me from "Hello." I grinned because you appeared at the extreme edge of my peripheral view; I laughed because you were laughing from something we said; I never fail to know just where you are if you're near enough for me to know.
Sometimes it hurts like an ache (clichéd, but true), when memories resurface. They still do. And then I'd take a moment to relive the past, of how young we were, and how foreign it all felt that it took two years and a friend to state things right in my face for me to finally see it for what it was.
I've thought about you today, although I can't forgive myself for doing that and had rolled my eyes at how uncharacteristically sentimental I was being.
I've always berated myself over the irrefutable truth that you had- still have- such a loose but definite hold on my mind, both conscious and subconscious.
I was waiting for the bus to take me to work, at the bus stop where we used to wait for the other bus that would take us to school. I've never admitted that I had begun taking the insanely-early bus just so I could spend thirty minutes more with you, have I?
So I was waiting for the bus today, far enough behind the stand that I was at the void deck of the HDB flat instead, in my highly-uncomfortable heels and breathing in toxic gases from some inconsiderate person who was smoking upwind, when I had this sudden urge to walk the few steps to the front of the bus stop so that I could look up at the apartment unit where you used to live just across the road.
I bet I could find it in a heartbeat, not needing to count up the number of storeys. Needn't ever, since the first few mornings when you waved to me from the corridor in the school uniform and with that silly grin and I had wished that the bus would be slow enough so that you could catch it, because that way we'd both be on it.
Then I realised how foolish I was in that moment this morning, so I focused on what my iPod was playing instead.
On my way home today, I got on the bus that passed by our secondary school. When it did, my eyes went straight for the first seat at the bus stop opposite the school's side gate. In my mind I saw the two of us racing to get that seat, and I bumped my finger on it in the process. You won, and I whined about a hurting pinky.
I feel really dumb now, that these things still seemed like yesterday to me; that it's just as fresh in my mind as if it had happened mere seconds ago; that you were grinning that silly grin and I was rolling my eyes at you.
It is really stupid. Even more so that I'm here blogging about it after so many years. And I'm annoyed at myself for periodically succumbing to the already-faraway recollections. Yet somehow, it's all right, because I really need to get this off, even though I know it'll be a long time before I can no longer remember the old days, the hour-long Saturday phonecalls, that thin scar in your right eyebrow, and that sparkle in your eyes.

Labels: TK

TK.
Not TKSS, nor TKS. Those sound so plebian.
And TK is definitely NOT plebian.

Students are called TK students.
None of those crappy, pretentious "TKsian" nonsense.
It sounds so much classier, TK students.

And for the sake of those who haven't been keeping up with news and stuff, it's NOT called TK Tech (and even back then it was THE top technical secondary school).
Tk has, for your information, stopped being a technical school since 1993.
Please update your general knowledge or else all graduated TK students will gladly come after your blood.

This mildly pissed off rant is hereby brought to you by a very disgruntled ex-TK student who noticed that there are still fools out there who have too much of a narrowed mindset about neighbourhood schools.

Labels: TK

We are the intention and the act, the strength and the weakness, the light and the dark, the individual and the whole, the magic and the miracle. Not alone. Just not together. Never alone.

- Timekeepers, sequel to Waywalkers, both by Catherine Webb

Yes!
Three books down (finished Fragments, by Jeffry W. Johnston today during data collection at the FYP company) and... One more to go! Well, five, if I include the books that my sister borrowed, recommended by me.
And by recommendation I meant me reading through the blurbs at the back and on the front book jacket. If I am intrigued enough to want to read it and it's not too complex for a twelve-year-old, I let her read the blurb and see if she wants it.
It's about time she starts reading materials other than illustrated children's book.

I'm going to the Secondary School registration with my mother and sister because, well, she got accepted into TK and I wanted an excuse to go back there at least once this year, seeing that my friends and I missed that chance on Teachers' Day.

I think I'm a person who lives in the memories.
Good or bad, or even those I'd rather not remember but thanks to Murphy's Law, they'd resurface every once in a while just to spite me of ever creating them.
I like memories, those that make me smile stupidly before I realise it, or even those that make me blush and mentally berate myself for having been so embarrassing once.
Memories truly are the only few things that cannot be tainted by time, only becoming more revered and treasured, the way years temper and seal a wine so that it will taste that much better when you needed a reminder of it in the next decade.

I've begun to imagine, if there weren't so many people tomorrow, at the registration, that if it was just me and that building that had been my home and refuge for those four years that lasted too long and ended too fast...

I would stand at the Assembly Plaza, facing the flags and looking into the canteen from four different angles; the four classes I've been in as each year pushed us to the next. On the right I'd have an obscured view of the walkway leading to the sidegate. In the mornings there'll be latecomers running in, late mornings will show students mulling about after recess, and from the afternoons to evenings, people will leave in sparse groups. Opposite the flags, I'd see the Design and Technical Block and know exactly where the Choir notice board is; first on the right, next to the staircase, updated only in about- oh I don't know- at best two times a year. Facing the board and turning to my right and up, there'll be the rotunda, where THE music room is.

I'll climb the six flights of stairs up to the thrid floor, walk around the music room (because the first door is always locked at first), shake out of my shoes to put them at the entrance, walk in the semi-circle room, and lie down on the wooden floors. Light brown, a shade darker than wheat, I can still see it in my mind. I'd look up at the highest point in the ceiling- it's haunted, it's said. I'd imagine it'll concern the conductor more, seeing as he sits right under it while he teaches us songs. Or, pronunciation of songs, since we don't usually speak Latin when it's got nothing to do with choir.

Then I'd walk back downstairs and across the bridge/walkway that hangs below the belly of the music room to get to the school hall. The wooden floorings are more darkly-coloured there. I'd hear the squeaks of school shoes when P.E. is conducted there during rainy days. I'd hear how bored we sound during the necessary but still boring emergency fire drill lectures.

I'd leave then, using the corridor outside the staff rooms, past the second floor entrances to the auditorium and the heritage museum between those two entrances (and it sounded so... impressive; Heritage Museum. It's merely a nicely done plastic/fibre-glass wall of events dating back to when the school was first founded. All right, I won't deny that it is nice), turn left to the staircase when I reach a corridor on my right that will lead to classrooms E, F, G, H, down the stairs, turn left, walk straight to the end, first class on the left: Classroom 4D.

I won't bother looking for my name that I've writting on my desk prior to graduation. It wasn't there the last time I looked. I think I might still find KY's though. Smartarse wrote it on the underside of her desk. I'd find a seat closest to where mine used to be. Then I'd look at the whiteboard and I'd see the memories of leftover Geography notes, an orderly chaos overflowing the finite board. I'd see the after-image of the words written in blue, green, black, hardly red, because we've compained that it's difficult to read red words from a distance. "Oceanic plate... prevailing winds... monsoon... population density... Why the estate in CBD costs higher than... New Towns are..."

I'd hear our Chemistry teacher's not-funny-at-all jokes, our Maths teacher's "Are you all alright?" which sounded more like "Aw-lite?" I'd remember singing anime songs with KY under our breaths to pass the time when our Chinese teacher had once been annoyed enough to make the whole class stand at our seats. Not forgetting, of course, our History teacher's sarcastic and sadistic mental illustration to demonstrate the deathtoll in certain wars of the past. Oh, not saying that it wasn't entertaining; I'm very welcoming when it comes to sarcasm and fatalistic thoughts.

Reminiscing felt good.
In those moments that I remembered, there was a marginally larger lack of care for the world and the foolish things mankind was doing to it. Less care for the unforeseen future. More of the Here and Now. More madly self-inflated confidence about the universe that lay under our feet.
I guess there's a reason why you only get to be an adolescent once.
It's a drug; an addiction you don't want to lose when you come to understand how good it felt, and you only want it to go on and on and on and on...

You can escape from anything, if you know how to go about it.

- Sam Linnfer
Waywalkers, By Catherine Webb

Labels: Book recs, Phrases, TK

first, of course, is because of my final exam which i've quite totally slacked through the studying process and only really start to mug at like, 11pm?
there wasn't a lot of rush since all my papers begin in the afternoon, not counting that (freakass rubbish) 7pm night paper for LSCM.
i seriously think that all the papers were meant to demoralise us because after each paper everyone was all damn depressed about the whole thing.
not to mention that Management Sci was a total killer.
practically skipped through 3 questions out of the entire paper, which had only 5 questions *dry laugh* and got so pissed over just that, i had to stop myself from slamming the question script each time i flip it over.

what a waste, especially when my coursework grades were definitely much better this semester.
not a single C or D, and to think that my MS had a B+.
i can so see myself taking supplementary papers for MS, if not, then at least a D overall.
damn crappiness.

anyhoo, i went back to TK for teachers' day.

mdm ng is still so narcistically auntie-ish-ly cute haha..
but our 10-course dinner is gone! then what's the point of me getting an A1 for my geography?!
the next time i go back, i am so bringing my permanent marker to rewrite my markings on the window grills and find my old table so i can mark it all over again.
i could still find ky's table, thanks to her BIG name on the underside of the desk.
and WTH are they trying to do with the students' school fees, mounting TWO PLASMA TVS in the canteen when during mugging period the kids can't spend a single recess that lasts over 15 minutes?!

oh, and our dear juniors are getting tinier and tinier.
i swear one of the emcees have NOT broken his voice, and one of the performer's guitar reaches the height of his shoulders.
it's hilariously cute, watching him carry his guitar home hours after the concert.

and then of course was the heavy rain where the few of us who went back were stranded at katong. jt and bh had lunch there because there was no more fish rice back at the western stall in tk (lucky us early birds get to reminisce our tk eating habits lol).
since we all had exams and stuff, they came over and crammed into my room to mug and listen to jt complain about jc geography (slopes?! what is there to study about SLOPES?!).

now that all my papers have ended, i guess it's time to continue all my.. discontinued projects.
story.. drawings.. maple! i offered to help jt with her character, which she totally screwed up with the stats and skills. plus i feel like changing the layout of my website.
oh, and of course to find a job before i rot away the whole of my holidays.

i feel like going k-box.
anyone interested? i know bh is, so i need one more enthused person haha..

Labels: TK

1. My ex is: cq

2. Maybe I should: put in more effort for my studies. then again..

3. I love: Tanjong Katong Secondary School and everything little memory i have in that school!

4. I don't understand: why guys find it a need to be chauvinistic.

5. I lose: the perseverence to NOT do last minute studying.

6. People say I'm: a lamer right down to the core.

7. Love is: over-demanding if you're with the wrong person.

8. Somewhere, someone is: sneezing. this theory has been on my mind for many many years.

9. I will always: be in need for a new pair of converse shoes.

10. Forever is: not a promise but thy hearts' mutual wish.

11. I never want to: take any supplementary exam papers.

12. I think the current US President: umm.. is still bush jr., right?

13. When I wake up in the morning: i wished i had woken up a few more hours later.

14. My past was: horrible. i'd prefer the unknown future, thank you very much.

15. I get annoyed when: there are annoying people in the vicinity, even if they didn't disturb me.

16. Parties are for: people who don't mind getting their houses messed up.

17. My dog is: imaginary.

18. My cat is: on the way. one day i will have a fully black cat of my own! so black that it shines!

19. Kisses are the best when: they're simple and chaste.

20. Tomorrow: i don't wanna go out with ky!!

21. I really want: to move out and have my own cat!

22. I have low tolerance for people who: acts as if they're such big shots but in actual fact are quite childish.

I'm gonna tag pauline, sui lan, ky, jing teng, marianne, rachel, wai yin and wan ting.

oh when tk!
oh when tk!
oh when tk goes marching in (all the way!)
we are the defending champions,
oh when tk goes marching in (one more time!)
oh when tk!
oh when tk!
oh when tk goes marching in (all the way!)
we are the defending champions,
oh when tk goes marching in!!!

i'm so proud to ever be in TANJONG KATONG SECONDARY SCHOOL!!
tk band SO rocks!!

Labels: TK

anyways, i went to the outdoor stadium with sl today to watch the syf central judging of outdoor bands.

it was hot, stuffy, and leaves kept falling from the top where there shouldn't be any trees at all.
i felt kinda "out", being one of the few people in home clothes, and being a little too old to be surrounded by secondary school kids.
still, it's a nice feeling to be among all the white and green that is signature colour of tk.
really missing my old uniform T-T

it's a nice feeling, to be around people that make you feel comfortable as if it's where you belong. i mean, 4 years isn't a very long time but i guess i got very much attached to tk.
the juniors reminded me of how we used to behave at band competitions; throwing things here and there, the part of the cheers that we're best at is the screaming, and our sarcasm towards the poor student councillors at the front.

i think i will come back every two years to scream along with my "4-year family" and cheer for tk band.
for some unknown reason, when it came to tk-related stuff like these, i'll get these immense sense of pride (even though i'm not from band but hey, we're from the same school =.=) when i remember that i used to be a tk student before. i guess i really am too attached to tk.
tk's a damn good school, alright?

and i'll never understand why other schools like to imitate our old gimicks like, coloured fans and all the bowing and stuff.
you don't see our band re-using these stuff. come up with your own tricks will you?
besides, these extra things are just what they are: extras.
what really matters is the flawless synchronised choreography and the music.
who cares if your uniform looks like a cowboy suit? who cares if you've got people dancing around waving flags (i insist that this was a trick to prevent the judges from realising that someone in the main formation made a mistake)? who cares if your band major shakes her butt in that skirt of hers?
they still can't compare to the standard that tk has with only their plain black uniform with the exception of the instruments glistening in the sunlight.

simple and to the point.
well, only tk has the substance to do it anyways.

oh, and lot's of people fainted while waiting for the results to come out *laughs evilly*
sl said that the long wait for the results was because all the judges come from different countries (thailand, japan, canadian, what-have-you) they have difficulty understanding wth the others are trying to say and so ended up fighting.
so lame =.=
then again, all tk people are lame.

gold with honours.
i shall return in july for the final competition.
TK ROX!!~

Labels: TK

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