monkeycrap's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- we're adding years to life, not life to years. At this point of time one year ago, things were getting a little chaotic, a little out of hand. Examination period. Days of getting up earlier in the mornings and taking a cab to school. Of going straight to the sports complex toilet uber early and reserving the last cubicle of the toilet to clear bowels before entering the exam hall. Of sitting on the makeshift steel bleachers by the poolside, doing last minute flipping, not finding what you want to find, and hoping against all odds that it won't 'come out'. Of getting panicky and pacing up and down the poolside. Of realising that it ain't gonna help. Of anxiously awaiting, anticipating for the great gates of hell(read: badminton hall) to be opened up by satan's minions(read: those darned invigilators). Of holding writing materials in one hand, entry proof and water bottle in another, and a windbreaker/sweater draped across both. Of walking down the aisle, wishing one another good luck. Of placing pink(now for me it's green la) IC on the top right hand of the table. Of checking and double checking and triple checking the number of pages, but actually trying to sneak a read of the first few questions. Of hoping that the first reaction upon reading the first question would be one of 'oh yeah' rather than 'oh holy shit'. Of the latter being true most of the time. Of the dreaded phrase 'pens down'. I remember the few days grace between papers. Days of going to school for consultation in the hub. Of meeting friends in the void deck to study. Of not actually studying, but listening to music or playing lame card games like bridge or tai tee. Of taking a 'short break' for lunch in between studying, but somehow ending up going to dover, clementi or holland v to stone. Of guzzling vast quantites of diabetes-inducing haribo gummies and ice kachang. Of study sessions at the esplanade library, king albert park macs and the now defunct marina square. Of self-studying at bedok library and getting chased out by the malay auntie for staying beyond the study hours(she saw me doing maths tys behind the thick dynamic econometrics book which i had borrowed for 'reference'). Of the dread of studying and mugging. Of realising that crushing paper and playing waste-basket-ball can be so fun. Of making phone calls to clarify doubts but ending up complaining about life for the next hour. Of piah-ing like mad. Of giving up. Of picking up after giving up. Of ice cold lattes, red bull and chicken essence. Of ensuring that we get our daily requirement of 'holland v' on television, despite having physics paper 2 the very next day. Of lamenting, lamenting, lamenting. Doesn't really seem like one year, but when you think about it, we've come a pretty long way huh. The general impression that i get from people in the army about ACJC is that it is a place where people are rich, pretentious, fake, snobbish, obnoxious and superficial. One where everything is a huge popularity contest. To which I agree, to a pretty large extent actually. But i had a great 2 years there. Not fantastic, but still great. And i made friends there, amazing friends who treat you as friends, not as some obstacle he/she has to overcome to achieving 4 As. And a lot of that happens in some other more elite 'institutions of higher learning'. And they're calling us fake and pretentious. Oh reah-ally. There isn't another school which I would want to spend ages 17-18 in. Furthermore, I don't think i fared that badly in the popularity contest. ;) 9:16 a.m. - 2004-11-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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