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Tough times dont last but tough men do.
Press on!
Press on!
Thursday, March 1, 2012 @ 12:36 PM
Here i am, back again. :D
tomorrow's the release of the oh-so-important A level results. My parents have been nagging and nagging at me to make a choice, give it thought as to where i should go and do my own research.
the thing is, i know, i know i really should. But there's this nagging feeling at the back of my head, pulling me back. When i open my hotmail, i see the heap of brightsparks mail and when i open my vjmail, all the commonapps thingy just screams at me. There are soooo many but then again, how many of these will be relevant to me.
Then i figured out what my problem is. I dont think i am worthy. All the screwed up vjsystem has finally got into me. Dont try for H3 because your results arent good enough. Dont apply for US because your predicted grade will be shitass disgusting. Dont aim for any scholarships because what makes you think you can compete with all the smart people out there. Which leads to my plight now, denial and procrastination.
ARGHHH. im so frustrated. What has turned me from a MOE scholar into this person having the you-are-no-better-than-the-worst-in-vj mentality. I blame myself for letting it get to me. And i blame the screwed up VJ system.
Please, to all you who are thinking of getting here, you better make sure you are smart enough to go to LT5 and allow your ego to remain sky high or else you should go to a school which emphasizes on the fact that they treasure each and everyone of their students. To be honest, nothing is ever finalized until the A level results. And for the school to judge us like this, it's definitely too premature and degrading to me.
Enough of the ranting. Im going to drag myself through every mail and do my own research now. I really really pray for myself to be strong enough to accept whatever comes my way.
Thursday, December 8, 2011 @ 2:30 PM
It is good to be reminded from time to time we tend to forget and take things for granted.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A Trucker's Last Letter
Steamboat Mountain was a man killer, and truckers who hauled the Alaska Highway treated it with great respect. Particularly in the winter, the road used to curve and twist over the mountain, and sheer cliffs dropped away sharply from the icy road. Countless trucks and truckers have been lost there over the years and many dreams were dashed upon its rocky slopes.
Many years ago on one trip up the highway, I came upon an RCMP cruiser and several wreckers winching the remains of a semi up the cliff. I parked my rig and went over to the quiet group of truckers who were watching the wreckage slowly come into sight.
One of the Mounties walked over to us and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry," he said. "The driver was dead when we found him. He must have gone over the side two days ago when we had a bad snowstorm. There weren't many tracks. It was just a fluke that we noticed the sun shining off some chrome."
He shook his head slowly and reached into his parka pocket. "Here, maybe you guys should read this. I guess he lived for a couple of hours until the cold got to him."
My Darling Wife,
This is a letter that no man ever wants to write, but I'm lucky enough to have some time to say what I've forgotten to say so many times.
I love you, Sweetheart.
You used to kid me that I loved the truck more than you because I spent more time with her. I do love this piece of iron -- she's been good to me. She's seen me through tough times and tough places and I could always count on her in a long haul and she was speedy in the stretches. She never let me down.
But you want to know something? I love you for the same reasons. You've seen me through the tough times and places, too.
Remember the first truck? That run down "old corn binder" that kept us broke all the time but always made just enough money to keep us eating? You went out and got a job so that we could pay the rent and bills. Every cent I made went into the truck while your money kept us in food with a roof over our heads.
I remember that I complained about the truck, but I don't remember you ever complaining when you came home tired from work and I asked you for money to go on the road again. If you did complain, I guess I didn't hear you. I was too wrapped up with my problems to think of yours.
I think now of all the things you gave up for me. The clothes, the holidays, the parties, the friends. You never complained and somehow I never remembered to thank you for being you.
When I sat having coffee with the boys, I always talked about the truck, my rig, my payments. I guess I forgot you were my partner even if you weren't in the cab with me. It was your sacrifices and determination as much as mine that finally got the new truck. I was so proud of that truck I was bursting. I was proud of you, too, but I never told you that. I took it for granted you knew, but if I had spent as much time talking with you as I did polishing chrome, perhaps I would have.
I always knew your prayers rode with me. But this time they weren't enough. I'm hurt and it's bad. I've made my last mile and I want to say the things that should have been said so many times before. The things that were forgotten because I was too concerned about the truck and the job. I'm thinking about the missed anniversaries and birthdays. The school plays and hockey games that you went to alone because I was on the road.
I'm thinking of the peace of mind I had knowing that you were at home with the kids, waiting for me. The family dinners where you spent all your time telling your folks why I couldn't make it -- I was busy changing oil, I was busy looking for parts; I was sleeping because I was leaving early the next morning.
There was always a reason, but somehow they don't seem very important right now.
When we were married, you didn't know how to change a light bulb. Within a couple of years, you were fixing the furnace in a blizzard while I was waiting for a load in Florida. You became a pretty good mechanic, helping me with repairs, and I was mighty proud of you that time you jumped into the truck and backed it up over the rose bushes.
I was proud of you when I pulled into the yard and saw you sleeping in the car waiting for me. Whether it was two in the morning or two in the afternoon, you always looked like a movie star to me. You're beautiful, you know. I guess I haven't told you that lately, but you are.
I made lots of mistakes in my life, but if I only ever made one good decision, it was when I asked you to marry me. You never could understand what it was that kept me trucking. I couldn't either, but it was my way of life and you stuck with me. Good times, bad times, you were always there.
I love you sweetheart, and I love our kids.
My body hurts but my heart hurts even more. You won't be there when I end this trip. For the first time since we've been together, I'm really alone and it scares me. I need you so badly, and I know it's too late.
It's funny I guess, but what I have now is the truck. This damned truck that ruled our lives for so long. This twisted hunk of steel that I lived in and with for so many years. But it can't return my love. Only you can do that.
You're a thousand miles away but I feel you here with me. I can see your face and feel your love and I'm scared to make the final run alone.
Tell the kids that I love them very much and don't let them drive any truck for a living.
I guess that's about it honey. My God, but I love you so very much. Take care of yourself and always remember that I loved you more than anything in life.
I just forgot to tell you.
I Love You,
Bill
- Author Unknown –
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A Trucker's Last Letter
Steamboat Mountain was a man killer, and truckers who hauled the Alaska Highway treated it with great respect. Particularly in the winter, the road used to curve and twist over the mountain, and sheer cliffs dropped away sharply from the icy road. Countless trucks and truckers have been lost there over the years and many dreams were dashed upon its rocky slopes.
Many years ago on one trip up the highway, I came upon an RCMP cruiser and several wreckers winching the remains of a semi up the cliff. I parked my rig and went over to the quiet group of truckers who were watching the wreckage slowly come into sight.
One of the Mounties walked over to us and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry," he said. "The driver was dead when we found him. He must have gone over the side two days ago when we had a bad snowstorm. There weren't many tracks. It was just a fluke that we noticed the sun shining off some chrome."
He shook his head slowly and reached into his parka pocket. "Here, maybe you guys should read this. I guess he lived for a couple of hours until the cold got to him."
My Darling Wife,
This is a letter that no man ever wants to write, but I'm lucky enough to have some time to say what I've forgotten to say so many times.
I love you, Sweetheart.
You used to kid me that I loved the truck more than you because I spent more time with her. I do love this piece of iron -- she's been good to me. She's seen me through tough times and tough places and I could always count on her in a long haul and she was speedy in the stretches. She never let me down.
But you want to know something? I love you for the same reasons. You've seen me through the tough times and places, too.
Remember the first truck? That run down "old corn binder" that kept us broke all the time but always made just enough money to keep us eating? You went out and got a job so that we could pay the rent and bills. Every cent I made went into the truck while your money kept us in food with a roof over our heads.
I remember that I complained about the truck, but I don't remember you ever complaining when you came home tired from work and I asked you for money to go on the road again. If you did complain, I guess I didn't hear you. I was too wrapped up with my problems to think of yours.
I think now of all the things you gave up for me. The clothes, the holidays, the parties, the friends. You never complained and somehow I never remembered to thank you for being you.
When I sat having coffee with the boys, I always talked about the truck, my rig, my payments. I guess I forgot you were my partner even if you weren't in the cab with me. It was your sacrifices and determination as much as mine that finally got the new truck. I was so proud of that truck I was bursting. I was proud of you, too, but I never told you that. I took it for granted you knew, but if I had spent as much time talking with you as I did polishing chrome, perhaps I would have.
I always knew your prayers rode with me. But this time they weren't enough. I'm hurt and it's bad. I've made my last mile and I want to say the things that should have been said so many times before. The things that were forgotten because I was too concerned about the truck and the job. I'm thinking about the missed anniversaries and birthdays. The school plays and hockey games that you went to alone because I was on the road.
I'm thinking of the peace of mind I had knowing that you were at home with the kids, waiting for me. The family dinners where you spent all your time telling your folks why I couldn't make it -- I was busy changing oil, I was busy looking for parts; I was sleeping because I was leaving early the next morning.
There was always a reason, but somehow they don't seem very important right now.
When we were married, you didn't know how to change a light bulb. Within a couple of years, you were fixing the furnace in a blizzard while I was waiting for a load in Florida. You became a pretty good mechanic, helping me with repairs, and I was mighty proud of you that time you jumped into the truck and backed it up over the rose bushes.
I was proud of you when I pulled into the yard and saw you sleeping in the car waiting for me. Whether it was two in the morning or two in the afternoon, you always looked like a movie star to me. You're beautiful, you know. I guess I haven't told you that lately, but you are.
I made lots of mistakes in my life, but if I only ever made one good decision, it was when I asked you to marry me. You never could understand what it was that kept me trucking. I couldn't either, but it was my way of life and you stuck with me. Good times, bad times, you were always there.
I love you sweetheart, and I love our kids.
My body hurts but my heart hurts even more. You won't be there when I end this trip. For the first time since we've been together, I'm really alone and it scares me. I need you so badly, and I know it's too late.
It's funny I guess, but what I have now is the truck. This damned truck that ruled our lives for so long. This twisted hunk of steel that I lived in and with for so many years. But it can't return my love. Only you can do that.
You're a thousand miles away but I feel you here with me. I can see your face and feel your love and I'm scared to make the final run alone.
Tell the kids that I love them very much and don't let them drive any truck for a living.
I guess that's about it honey. My God, but I love you so very much. Take care of yourself and always remember that I loved you more than anything in life.
I just forgot to tell you.
I Love You,
Bill
- Author Unknown –
Saturday, December 3, 2011 @ 1:06 AM
Singlish 4: Study Like Xiao
hahahaha i loved the fruit part.
@ 1:03 AM
hey guys!!! A's are OVER!!!
Due to the weird spamming people posting on my cbox, i have deactivated my account there. And also due to my recent (okay actually not that recent) fetish with reading tumblrs, ive created a tumblr account and am still figuring out how to use it. :)
Though its not certain as to whether this blog will be abandoned for good, I hope to keep it here for me to have something to remember by after many years later. :)
I guess in future when tumblr's not that addictive anymore, i might still post some stuff here and there. haha
And i guess i'd post like my usual list of to dos and christmas wish lists and stuff here too so that though the chances are rather slim, people do actually read them and help me fulfill them. haha
okay this is not a farewell to blogger just yet but i just wanna tell those who reads this a big thank you if you have been reading every now and then but if you are some creepy stalker, BUG OFF ZOMG AND GET A LIFE!
okay. thats all i gotta say.
TOOTLES!!!
LIFE IS AMAZING!
Due to the weird spamming people posting on my cbox, i have deactivated my account there. And also due to my recent (okay actually not that recent) fetish with reading tumblrs, ive created a tumblr account and am still figuring out how to use it. :)
Though its not certain as to whether this blog will be abandoned for good, I hope to keep it here for me to have something to remember by after many years later. :)
I guess in future when tumblr's not that addictive anymore, i might still post some stuff here and there. haha
And i guess i'd post like my usual list of to dos and christmas wish lists and stuff here too so that though the chances are rather slim, people do actually read them and help me fulfill them. haha
okay this is not a farewell to blogger just yet but i just wanna tell those who reads this a big thank you if you have been reading every now and then but if you are some creepy stalker, BUG OFF ZOMG AND GET A LIFE!
okay. thats all i gotta say.
TOOTLES!!!
LIFE IS AMAZING!
Thursday, November 10, 2011 @ 11:30 PM
I have a confession to make...
I said the F word out loud twice today.
Once when i was sorta late for the Math paper. Not late late but still... i know i know it's terrible i should prolly change my late habits but listen to me first.
So i was all flustered and having crazy woman hair and lugging my 2 GCs, my jacket, my trusty alarm clock, my pencil case, ez link, water bottle and wallet (I DONT KNOW WHY I BROUGHT MY WALLET) then running towards the hall, then my wallet dropped to the ground. So i monologued "please dont do this to me now" and was contemplating if i should leave my wallet outside the hall.
Then i decided against the idea and continued making my way to the door when MY BELOVED STARBUCKS TUMBLER FELL TO THE GROUND. It was not a normal piack! then got a few cracks kind. :( It just like broke. Like the outer covering came off and it was left with its black naked core that looks like a trombone muffler. So there. I said the F word once and heck cared it and went to the hall.
The second time was when I was washing my bottle cause i filled it with coffee earlier on. Since it broke, and the outer covering was gone and in an unrepairable state. So there was the rough plastic edges along the sides where it was supposed to be joined with the outer covering. I was trying to open my bottle up which usually requires a herculean effort and then I cut my finger. And blood red ~Fe(H2O)5(SCN) 2+ flowed out. So there. I said it again.
IM TURNING VULGAR!!!!!!!!!
WHATS WRONG WITH ME!
Saturday, October 15, 2011 @ 11:01 PM
Ellen - Writer Amy goes through a haunted house
HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH!!!! THIS IS SOOO FUNNY!
Friday, September 30, 2011 @ 9:17 PM
As part of my visualise, actualise, prayrise plan, Im here to tell you guys my results.
A level results slip:
General Paper A
Project Work A
Mathematics A
Chemistry A
Physics A
Economics A
Now that Ive told you, there's no turning back. This IS my results.
I have the potential to achieve it. I can. I will.
Don't ask my how i did on results day, this will be my results.
I BELIEVE IN MYSELF. I CAN ACHIEVE.
