Boxing up the memories.

There are some things that I'll never forget this Christmas. For one, it would take some serious memory-erasing to rid myself of that image of my uncle, looking suspiciously drunk, wearing a shoe bag on his head and doing a little gig. Or my mother doing a weird little tease for my aunt, which involved a lot of even weirder booty-shaking. Growing up among my maternal relatives means being dragged through a swamp of boisterousness and too-loud love, but knowing deep down, that you wouldn't swap it for anything in the world.

Before the party officially began - that is, before the arrival of my grandmother and before everyone starts tucking in, properly (more than occasional munching doesn't quite count as 'eating' here) - Suhui took Mingming, her eight year old brother, and I to the Japanese cemetery nearby. About a decade ago, I, with my overactive imagination, would have sooner died (and become a part of the cemetery for eternity, ironically, but it didnt occur to me back then) than voluntarily place myself within any conceivable distance of a cemetery. Each Qingming, I would dread the hike into the columbarium and cemetery, regardless of the kind of jokes the adults cracked to keep spirits (ours) buoyant. But the roles were reversed this time round. My company had an imagination to rival mine, and he, like I did, knew it.

He expotulated at the suggestion and took off. I laughed and ran after him, tackling him into submission. Despite his protests, dear Ming ming was crammed firmly (and rather comically) between the two of us - the human safety barrier promised to him, and marched to the cemetery. Throughout the walk, he talked non-stop, jabbering away about his fear of cemeteries. Conversation was precocious but lighthearted, as we talked about ways he could "master fear" (his words, not mine). But throughout the walk, I made sure he had both his hands held and was always between us, because I knew that was all I had ever wanted in the cemetery vists of my childhood. (But daddy would always walk forward, with me clinging on to his shirt, and mommy no where to be found.)

As we walked out of the cemetery, he told me proudly, "I am not scared now because I have mastered my fear!" (Mastered, he told me, was the word, not conquered, or overcome.) But I knew that the moment he could talk about his fears. I never told anyone about my fear of cemeteries, or ghosts, or the dead - that gripping fear, worse that I had ever known. And I knew, that when he mastered his, he had also mastered mine.

And it was with the courage vested in me by my dear cousin that I tackled today's reunion with my Sec4 class. I was so afraid we wouldn't get along, that our meetings would be silent and empty. But we did, and it was full of laughter and friendliness. (: And I actually am beginning to miss them.

Christmas!

Christmas is here again!

We've never had a more efficient year of Christmas shopping. You wouldn't believe it, but we managed to accomplish our shopping list of nearly 40-members within two days. We've become so profoundly proficient that we've even managed to use all the old newspaper advertisements as (passably) pretty wrapping paper, thereby propagating the spirit of goodwill AND greenness. I'm expecting Santa to visit me twice this year. I've noticed that the people in my family get great kicks out of ripping the wrapping off their gifts (sometimes I suspect they even enjoy it more than the gift itself), so, being the official giftwrapper of the Han Family, I've padded up all your gifts with newspaper :D (their actual sizes are really half of what you see)

The days leading up to Christmas have not been so unbearably long this year. In fact, this Christmas sort of snuck up from behind and devoured me before I could season myself with Christmas trees and goodies. When I look back on the Christmas of 2007, I'd like to think that it began on the night of the 20th, at the sleepover at Seng's, which set a comfortable mood I haven't been able to get out of. We started the night off at Harry's, and ended it trying to wrestle Seng's dog away from our poor violated legs. My poor legs almost lost their virginity to a jack russel, and I swear the same mutt sneezed all over me. Seng tried to comfort me by saying that he didn't really sneeze - more like "regurgitate its undigested meals and furball"; but I'm not really sure how that's of any comfort.

And oh, Yunsong cooked breakfast. Heh.

It was a lovely morning. And unless something more spectacular happens over the next two days, I'd say that was God's Christmas gift to me - simple and transcient. I'll leave my material needs for my friends and family to fulfil :P

The 21st was spent in the warmth of old friends in Geordie's beautiful house. His parents cooked a splendid Christmas feast! Think turkey, roast, log cakes, baked potatoes, wine and best of all Bailey's Irish Cream. I think I really like watching my friends sit around a large dinner table, eating elegantly in mock candle light. A far cry from the first time we looked at each other, caked in mud, soap and grime, gobbling off each other's styrofoam containers at Orientation. We've grown, I think, and I hope we age like wine.

Then there was Liangwei's party, the almost KI Christmast gathering, and Daddy's half's Christmas party. Tomorrow, Christmas would have truly come, with our annual and very traditional Christmas party with the Tan family and extensions. Tomorrow, my year will be complete (:

To know and to love

To Know Him is to Love Him
Emmylou Harris, Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt

To know know know him
Is to love love love him
Just to see him smile
Makes my life worthwhile
To know know know him
Is to love love love him
And I do

I'll be good to him
I'll bring love to him
Everyone says there'll come a day
When I'll walk alongside of him
Yes just to know him
Is to love love love him
And I do

Why can't he see
How blind can he be
Someday he will see
That he was meant for me

To know know know him
Is to love love love him
Just to see him smile
Makes my life worthwhile
To know know know him
Is to love love love him
And I do

*
I am not so daring and dynamic as I thought I was. Some social interactions still leave me wondering what I should have done, and if what I actually did was right. Sometimes I get this insane urge to jump up and plant a small kiss on the cheek of the person I'm talking to, but I fear he or she might slap me, or think me too bold and too transparent. Then I wonder, what do I care that they do - for if they are to love me, then they'll have to love the spontaneous, unthinking, affectionate me. And by the time all the wondering's done, the moment would have past and my eyelids dropped too long to re-open any interpersonal connection.

If every action is willed, then I must be missing out on something, for I find it harder and harder to translate will into action, especially when it comes to dealing with others. I could sit and expire myself with hope, but it probably wouldn't change the fact that some of us walk our separate ways. Do you begin with a small desire, and sit and wait for them to act on a reciprocated feeling that might not exist? Or do you walk in and declare your intentions like foolhardy, sexually-charged boys do?

I feel desire like an embarrassing relative, who threatens to announce to the world my life's most intimate details. It is a constant battle - the twisting of knife-handles in backs, not against any offensive, grumpy aunt, but with the little voice that keeps calling me a blood traitor.

People who fascinate me.

"Let's go." He said sharply. "I don't like the way he conducts his kids."

We got up from the long wooden benches in his lead and snapped our heels down the long aisle as the pastor's chastise of his altar boys continued. But as we reached the tall doors of the church, he stopped to pick up a bible. His slim fingers ran slowly down the spine of the old book, and in the stained dimmness of the church, he asked gently, "Would you like to say a prayer?"

Woohoo! Breakthrough!

My (drawing and painting) skills have upped one level. I'm actually wishing now that I didn't scorn those Dota/computer games lingo, so I'd have some vocabulary to release some of this chest-pounding, grunty eruption.

I am now quite sure that I have a remotely enviable artistic talent. Okay, okay, if I'm going to be disgustingly arrogant about this, I'm going to be disgustingly arrogant about this. I think I'm on fireeee!

Take that, Limmy.

(:

What The Holidays Mean to You

For you, the holidays are about celebration. You enjoy all the fun and fellowship that the holidays bring. You celebrate the holidays in a offbeat style. You believe the holidays are for doing whatever you feel like - and some of your "traditions" are pretty wacky. During the holidays, you feel magical. You love all of the decorations and how happy people are. You like to sit back and take it all in. You think the holidays should be nostalgic and sweet. The holidays bring out your inner child. Your best holiday memories are warm and intimate. You remember special moments more than gifts or parties.

What Do the Holidays Mean to You?

You Don't Know Much About Christmas

You only got 2/10 correct So you don't know all of the history and trivia of the holidays...As long as you remember to put out some cookies for Santa, you're still ahead of the game. Random Christmas fact: Thomas Edison has the first Christmas lights, three years after he invented the electric lightbulb.

How Much Do You Know About Christmas?

My top 10 Favourite Things about JC Life

The wonderful thing about words, I've realised, is that they keep what the memory and pictures cannot. My favourite things about these two years tend to fall under categories of "prolonged processes" and "fleeting moments" that cannot be composed into postcards. So I'm writing them down, and if you've loved them as much as I have, we're going to find a way to do them again (:

In no order of merit

1) All the in-between (classes) moments with Gaby, invariably spent in the canteen at our favourite Sunshiney seat. These moments were spent either in close confidence, silent companionship, exchanging TV knowledge, amusing bickering, and always, always eating.

2) The pink moments with Siobhan. I still don't really know what we do, but it always involves a lot of giggling at the stupidest things, and a lot great advice from her on matters of the heart.

3) The few movies (memorably, Invisible Waves, Into Great Silence and Little Miss Sunshine) with Chen and occasionally others (I would name them, but they keep changing). It was always terribly exciting not knowing what we had paid for, and immensely satisfying to walk out of them shaking in laughter and having completely different ideas of what happened in the cinema.

4) The mornings spent with Colin (usually Thursdays), just before he elopes with Myf. Our mornings are always spent talking about everything and nothing in particular, and always in resulting in a beautiful heartbreak. Oh, and I'll miss those pen-paper-and-coin Quorridor games, in which we would always know who would win at least 6 moves before completion. We never found a way to play well.

5) The moments during KI lessons where we would all giggle - the class at John Butterworth's omnipotence, and Mr Lim at some unfathomable Mormon reason. (Okay, I know *now* that he's Methodist.) I also love the one-to-one conversations in Mr Lim's potpurried office, and I know that I got lucky again, to get a mentor who cared this much.

6) The daily walks from school down to Farrer Road/Adam Road. Bukit Timah Road, I think, is my second favourite road, next to the stretch of Balestier I live on. I love the quaint small shops and the sunny, sleepy sidewalks and it always saddens me a little when I have to board the bus.
And when I had memorized all the shops and little roads by heart, Liangwei came along and made sure that there was always something new and something gastronomically delicious to focus on.

7) The msn chatting with Seng. Unlike the above, this has not been determined by the physical presence of HC. And has been all the more lovely for it.

8) Great conversations with Yunsong, always perfectly balanced between the meaningful and the hilarious. And the dinners, a habit I hope will continue. Unlike most of the friendships I've had, I don't think I grew into this one. I think I fell headlong into it. And this rabbit hole adventure has been exciting. I suspect it always will.

9) Quirky AEP moments, which made school feel like home. It was the feeling that we could do anything in the world, that we were free and powerful and creative. I loved the being around Ms Kee and the generosity of Mr Tan, who always made us feel like they, in spite of everything, loved us. And not forgetting, the conversations with Mr Lee, especially the one we had in my little gallery, which we thought was entirely private except that the box magnified our voices and everyone heard my angst about being unbearably light and his wanting to be a nurse. I think what I loved best about HCAEP moments was that it made an incredibly normal thing (going to school) feel like a disguise for our superhero identities which allowed us to drive out of school during lesson time, wear pathetic shreds for clothes, dance like nobody was watching, cook in the middle of paints, brushes and other unsightly things and build things from scratch.

I liked how my cellmate Pow would speak ever so gently and adorably when we talked (I figure its because he thinks my being short is a handicap, lol), how Yingshi would propose every so often, and how Yeenseen would wrap her arms around me and tell me that she loved me. Or my body. I think Yeenseen thinks they're the same. And how Shum would give us all a bit of vinyl so we could have Phua Chu Kang moles/weird tattoos. How Sophia and I survived The Incredible Coursework Nights together, how Siewch and I would talk and get ourselves all depressed, how the boys would concoct songs and sing in perfect harmony and make everyone laugh, and how everyone got excited over Pizza Days, Sandwich Parades, and highly unsanitary Fondue Parties. And oh, I will never forget the night we all put up elaborate acts of cannibalism and deaths to make Ms Kee and Mr Lee feel bad about delaying our dinner. (It worked, haha. Dinner was on them.)

10) The mishmash crowd of Sixoh. Always something hilarious happening. I love the way we're all so hilariously different, and how we talk little and do lots, and how everything's so laidback and simple it makes me feel like we're part of a kampung. And someone's always teaching me a new way of seeing.

Everything's baking really nicely now :D

My scones turned out well (or "quite edible" in yunsong's words), my internships are nicely settled (Drew and Napier!) , and my Maldives trip is not only happening, I know it's going to be one hell of a trip because we'll be celebrating the New Year's there too!

Met Yunsong and Karweng at a nice Christmassy cafe yesterday, and the outing, like almost all outings I make, consisted first of me getting quite lost, and like almost all outings with Yunsong, ended with a fabulous dinner in our tummies and no money in our wallets. The last time I frequented cafes, I was still Hiu's little measure of peace, and we would sit at Novena's Spinelli's (our favourite haunt) and do math problems, play, read and talk. I tried going back to the cafe after we split, but it wasn't the same - the coffee was too cold, the books were too empty and the crowd too hostile.

Lessons from Both Ends of Life.

Last Saturday, Suhui and I popped down to Grandma's to learn the sacred family art of making Soon Kueh. It was fun, and I can't remember the last time I spent so much time alone with my grandma (alone being not hiding in my mother's skirts, mute and bashful in the presence of a strange tongue). Grandma made me tell everyone I gave the kuehs to that Su and I made them, because according to her, they were so goddamned ugly they would ruin her reputation as Toa Payoh's Soon Kueh Soh. But I think, secretly, she was really proud of her two grandchildren. Even though she refused to let us do the frying, steaming, preparation and cleaning up, the bags of new flour arranged for display weeks before our arrival whispered her enthusiasm at having us.

Somehow, word of my soon kueh endeavour got around to all my aunts and quickly translated into a newfound enthusiasm for cooking. Now I've been invited to bake scones at my little aunt's place, cookies in my big aunt's place, and sample turkey and blue cheese with my cousin. I assure you being Martha Steward was never my intention. I don't want to cook, I want to cook certain things - to understand how they're made, to ponder their making. But I do realise now, that cooking is a great way for bonding with the matriachs of the family, who while sometimes scary, I suppose, can also be quite endearing.

Any interaction with my grandparents wrenches my heart out. When I made an independent suprise visit to my paternal grandparents last week, my grandmother was so pleased I had to go back again in two days, just so I could sit and let her look at me. These wizened, weathered figures, whom I should be closer to than life itself, either talk too fast and too much in a language I cannot understand, or speak too little and are equally incomprehensible. They have lived lives that I do not understand, and live lives I will not understand. No earnest but helplessly ignorant ear or anxious but inevitably careless touch from their foreign grandchildren, I have learnt, will take away the pain in her back, stop him from shrinking in his cot, or remove the tiredness in her eyes. I am envious when my friends tell me about the things they do with their grandparents and how their lives intertwine so intimately under the same roof.

If the elderly are a puzzle, the young are not straightforward either. I do not understand when people say they love or hate children, with such grand sweeping statements. They are little people, and I love some people, and dislike other people. I think I like my little seven year old cousin, hyperactivity, loud voice and all. Today, he asked me how onions were grown. Then he asked where the bulbs were obtained. Which led to the question of where the first onion came from. I told him, maybe God made the first onion, like how people think God made the first human. (Su told him evolution made the first onion). But I wish now I had said nobody really knew how the first onion came about. It would have been honest, and more importantly, it would have been exactly the kind of answer I loved as a child. God and evolutionary science! - bah, I'm starting to think like a parent. (I will not!)

Amazing, isn't it. Life's greatest questions summarized in one brown, dusty onion.

Run mad as often as you like, but do not faint

I am now sitting at the end of a day I thought would never come. And along with this day, many things have passed and are now gone forever. For every momentuous event I have lived over the last few weeks, I have tried to fit my reflections into incisive essays becoming of a bright young leader, but my stunning failure subverts this fate bestowed upon me by my nation. I couldn't, for instance, pin down my exact feelings when I sat with the Foundational stream students during the release of their PSLE results. I couldn't find the words to describe the view from the bottom dweller's collar, I couldn't decide if the difference between that and what I was, am, accustomed to was real.

I was not allowed, too, to document my forced metamorphosis from student to adult. I felt no feeling strong and clear enough for my pen to pick up. And when my dear cousin was finally married off, fixing the final chapter of a tulmultous romance in her life and foreshadowing adulthood for the rest of us Sisters, my words found themselves restricted to praise of the bride's clothings and the good wine.

I began this wanting to write about love and family and my frustrating lack of ambition, but this plague of wordlessness refuses to leave me.