Untimely Finale

I can't believe it and I don't want to. She called quits. At the age of 28, where one would only start getting recognition. Monica Mason has just announced the retirement of Royal Ballet principal Alexandra Ansanelli, a dancer which I yearned to watch ever since she appeared on the front cover of Dance Magazine in 2004. She was a principal of New York City Ballet before, had a budding career, and she just left abruptly without giving any notice. That shocked the ballet world and now she has done the exact same again. She received a demotion to Soloist from Royal Ballet, worked her way up to Principal and decided to leave. Leave the dance world altogether. 

She lives the life which I have always dream of, yet I applaud her for having the bravery to give everything up for the fact that she doesn't like it anymore. If only I could say no the that unbending routine that governs my life, possible shortening it as well. I have no idea what on her mind, and I think neither does she, but I hope she will be happy with her choice.

Too late. I am upset by the fact that I will never get the chance to see her live. The technicality, the vivacity, the tenacity that I have missed. An opportunity slipped. Grieved. 

Time is ticking..ticking away

Today me and Tania came to the realisation that our lives are extremely defective at this moment in time. 

When we cry (cry over unfinished drama course work), though we try (try so hard to finish it), say goodbye (bye to our sanity) cause time is ticking ticking....

Just a random update

Oh dear, I seemed to have left this blog for the dump. Oh well, life is getting harder to control by the minute. I am completely stress out at this moment, with a huge pile of unfinished drama course work (not my fault, I've done my part), unfinished Elit text (not my fault either), unstudied Geography (ok, this is actually my fault), uncompleted accommodation form (thanks to my indecisiveness)

and on-coming exams that I am utterly unprepared for. Aiuto....

I despise Larkin though I have to admit that he is a literary genius. His poems give me the creeps. Thanks to him, I have images of 'children strewn on steps' and little lambies chopped up into chops. How can anyone be happy being unhappy most of the time? One more term and it's all over. I am gonna miss my art centre room most, it's hell loads bigger than my room at home. And this time, I actually have to kiss my uniform-wearing days good bye. I do like uniforms, even though it may be similar to KFC's one, saves me the time and effort to think what I have to wear to class. 

I am worried about drama. Firstly, we have only officially completed 1 unit out of 6. Secondly, we haven't rewritten notes for unit 3 because Ms Sarah hasn't gotten the 'Three' video off Helena. Thirdly, no one has bothered to mark my Unit 1 and 4 though I completed it last year. Fourthly, we haven't even started on unit 6 yet and there are 2 plays to write notes on. And finally, I have no idea what grades I will be getting for unit 4 and 5's performance. Teachers may say one thing but examiners might say another. And judging from the low quality video that we've produced, the possibility of them thinking a different spectrum is quite likely. How can anyone not be irked to the point of wanting to break everything in sight with a baseball bat? If I have a baseball bat and no morals...grrr... 

Oh bother...

Artaud is a crackpot!!

After 3 months of intense generating, writing and editing, I have finally completed Unit 4 at 4am this morning. 10 pages of A3. Filled. Drama and Theatre Studies. I hate this subject. It torments and pushes my patience to the limit. I must be crazy for refusing to drop it. It is so ironic that I left the exam hall thinking that the worst I could get is a B, not knowing that in fact all of us were expected, yes, expected to fail. I am truly scared. Really I am. I am scared of the immense faith that I place on my teachers. The same teachers that told me my notes were infallible, that nothing would go wrong, that I am brilliant. Sometimes I hate myself for believing them that much. I wish I could drop drama. But I can't. The fact is that I can't bear to drop it. I love the feeling of being someone else. I love the stage. I love the applauding and cheers of the audience at the end of a performance. I love the satisfactory feel of completing a play. I wished someone would force me to drop. I can't do it myself. I hate Artaud. Balinese hand movements. Yeah right. No one in their right mind would look at our play and define that as Balinese hand movements. Too bad those that watch our plays weren't in their right minds. That's what theatre studies is all about. Lying and bullshitting. It is all fabrication, an improbable concoction. I hate that part the most. I hate writing a bunch of lies to get marks. I hate writing a bunch of lies so others could get marks. Why should I put in so much effort to get equal marks as one that relies on my effort? No matter. 6 more months and I am done. No more studying the ideals of a crackpot. No more dealings with schism in my group. To conclude, no more drama. 

Nausea- Another puking incident

Who knew that a simple cup of tea could have caused me to suffer for two days. After attending the Oratorio, Elijah by Mendelssohn, I went to a nearby coffee shop for a cup of tea while waiting for the traffic to subside. The tea looked absolutely fine, tasted absolutely fine, therefore I assumed that it was absolutely fine. I woke up at 5 in the morning to a nauseous feeling caused by a churning stomach. Of course, my first reaction was to wake everybody in the house up and announced my newly contracted sudden wave of queasiness. Mum told me she had already threw up 3 times so I should just wait around until I do. Well, I headed straight to the TV room with a spinning head and an agitated stomach. Wasn't the best idea because watching TV just aggravated my head which aggravated my stomach. Just a note, there are really good shows in the wee hours of the day, those that I haven't seen for a while, like those Disney cartoons from the 50's or 60's. The first rush of partially digested food up my oesophagus came around 6am, and I just managed to reach the sink in time. Bloody hell. I hate puking non-stop, especially before the sun rises. Darkness just give me a sense of despair and hopelessness. This incident reminded me of the flight to Italy from Bangkok, and that non-stop puking was caused by dehydration. The only difference is that it was dark the entire flight because we were flying west. One could only imagine the dread I felt, I thought it was the end of the road for me. Seriously, I did. No parents, no close friends, just 23 newly met people, a lot of puke pouches and a bunch of air-hostess that did not speak English. Plus, the pain of an empty stomach was killing me as my stomach did not allow me to consume even plain water. Utter misery I tell you. 

Anyway, back to the more recent puking incident. I could not sleep anymore after throwing up a few times. for lunch, mum just cooked porridge. Eating was hard enough, keeping what I ate was harder. Uh, I hate the feeling when my stomach muscles contract to regurgitate. Well, this went on until night, just before I fell asleep. The next day, for some weird reason, my stomach was all bloaty and I couldn't eat much either, thus suffering the consequences from the building up of acids. Right now, I am not fully recovered yet but at least I could eat more and keep food in. 

Sometimes I wonder why sicknesses like these do not come when I need it most (like after studying and writing essays the entire night in school). A whole day of vomiting, just because we wanted to avoid traffic. Oh the irony.

Death be not proud

After weeks of checking the dance section of the NYT, I was thrilled with all the new articles on the new season in New York. That is, until I saw this

News article

I am truly sadden by the sudden passing of Clive Barnes. I enjoyed reading his articles especially the 'Attitudes' column for Dance magazine. I have high regards for this man as he inspired me to pursue my dreams of becoming a dance critic. He will definitely be missed in the dance world.

Finito!!!!

Yes!! Geography is finally over. No more staying up till 4am trying to cram everything in . No more having to drag my chair, pillow and blanket out on the balcony to study. No more worrying about how clouds form.
The paper was not too difficult nor was it particularly easy. The paper was weird, it took me a while to realise what's weird about it. River was not part of section A, a first in CIE geog exam history!! Thank God I studied three physical topics and population instead of just focusing on Rivers and Population, which was actually what had I intended to do. Let's just hope I didn't stuff this one up. I swear I will cry if it goes wrong.
Anyway, mum and sis just left for Korea, leaving me and my good-ol-dad(who spoils the heck out of me) in the midst of KL until Monday.

List of things to do within 2 days.
1. Get a trim
2. Buy a dress
3. Buy a leotard
4. Visit the restaurants on my list of places to eat
5. Watch a play
6. Buy Larkin's poetry collection
7. Find some of Pinker's works
8. Remind dad to mail letter to Andrea
9. Buy sticky paper so that me and Tania could watch bugs die in agony

Oh, speaking of bugs, there was a huge green beetle on the outside of our window netting the other day. It was neon green with black strips all over. Of course, our first reaction is to get the bug spray. After a few jets of poison, it started crawling upwards till it hits the window sill and fell on the window ledge. I started freaking out and spraying like crazy. I hate bugs. I hate big bugs. I hate big bugs that have weird colours on them. It was twitching like some spactic thingy. Oh, how I love watching bugs suffer before dying. Well, it twitched and toss and turn until it fell of the ledge. Me and Tania heard a splat when it landed on Suria's concrete backyard. Ewwwwww....ewwwww....ewww......
I wished I had taken a picture of it. Oh well, I will when the next one comes.

2 days of destressing...too bad Tania is stuck in Ktj..all alone..talk about role reversal man..