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Monday, May 24, 2004

Tomorrow. (!)

I keep telling myself I need to cut my hair, but on the only day I was free, Peter has to be on MC. *sigh* Been running around like a real busy bee, and my mum's complaining. Its like, non-stop.

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12 years: Girl ah! PSLE!

14 years: Can you please study? Streaming you know?

15 years: You're spending so much time at band, you don't keep going out okay, every night concerts concerts concerts, come back at 11pm...

16 years: You better study hard for O levels, you sure you can make it to JC? And please hor, stop spending so much time at band, its your O level year! Stop using so much money, money tight you know, stop spending on branded goods, your computer another problem, waste so much money, you somemore never study hard, worth it to spend so much on you meh?

17 years: Why got so many guys call you!? (readers, believe it. she cares) Can you please stop spending so much money? Why JC spend so much money one? Alot of money leh. Stop going out so often. Be back by dinner. Bowling again! So expensive! Got camp!? No! (compulsary!) No! (Mum...c'mon) Alright, go lah go lah. *grumbles* Stay over again! No!

18 years: Why still spend so much money! Bowling again! Stay over at friend's place to study? No! Can you stop spending so much money, you buy alot of things leh..all branded somemore (you call Topshop branded?) you know last time one t-shirt cost $5 only leh. Your slippers $19.90 so expensive! Last time we buy only $2 one leh. (omg. LAST TIME)

19 years: (Note: I became financially independent) Girl ah..you very lazy leh, piano never continue..what's the use? You're not spending time at home lor, other people's daughters always accompany their mum to the supermarket every weekend to help them carry groceries, I carry everything myself...you go work then come back so late, every Sat not at home, Sunday teach (Sat's my only off day!)
Then now you got camps, means you not even coming home lah, you really got no gui shu gan leh (meaning I don't feel as if I have a home) Getting very wild you know, when you go out so often, you're used to it...in your heart you no longer have a mother right, no home right?
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The last line certainly stings. It kinda gets me thinking on my part, have I ever done anything for her as a daughter, or will I only regret it when she's gone? It is indeed an awful thought, but I guess I do need to reflect on my actions. Been talking to my peers recently, they always say being 19 is a difficult age because I suddenly disappear to the work force, and my mum doesn't get to see me so often. Of course, it doesn't help when I am working on Sundays as well. Meaning, my Sundays are burnt and I only get to sit down to have dinner with her. But on my part, I do make it an effort to be home early on weekdays, rushing back from work for my regular run and join her for dinner. On the other hand, she works late 3 out of 5 days, so I don't know who's really at fault here. My Saturdays are always full. I really can't help it.

I've been wishing so much to go back to the past when I was still schooling. When I was still part of a large social group that bonds all of us together tightly by the mere mention of a competition/tournament. I miss being part of the huge family, the team whereby everybody has to work together to produce a successful finale. Listening to band pieces last night brought back so many memories, of the period I spent with TKGSSB. The constant push-ups, sit-ups, scoldings, practices. The never-ending combine sessions. The dreaded tuning. The horrible sound produced when we first tried out a piece. The miracle in the end after constant Mon-Wed-Sat practices and sectionals. The horrible smell of ammonia whenever I dumped a gunk of silver polish to shine my instrument. Competition among sections to see who produces the most saliva when we pull out valves to dump excess moisture in the instrument. (everybody go eew!) The victorious feeling, jubilance when the judges announced TKGSSB as the top band of Singapore 2001. And, as part of the team, I miss the trainings. The blisters on my thumb to remind me how tough bowling can actually be. The endless finishing position, staying on one leg. The uneven muscle built-up, resulting in a larger right thigh and a slight bulge in the left forearm. Polishing my ball. Competition. Camp. Trainings again. The adrenaline rush. Perspiring in an air-conditioned alley.

I don't want to grow up, I really don't.

And, horror of horrors! I realise I'm including more Chinese phrases in my dialogues, speaking Chinese...OH NO! I'm not going to turn into a cheenaf***!


x`p
10:25 AM

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| The Girl |
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