http://www.mda.gov.sg/wms.www/video.htm

aren't we proud to be media students.

I do like the idea of how memories somehow become distant.

Not distant till forgotten, but distant so that the residual thoughts always frame themselves in the most pleasant way.

Like secondary school - only remember the good bits, forgot all the crap parts like how we used to have to search for tracks to train at when we were abandoned as a team, race alone at the stadium the loneliness was so stark, having major crushes and emo-ing soo bad! Getting shit from the band mistress and teachers who somehow didn’t like me, and more. Yeap somehow all conveniently forgotten.

Then there was jc – only remember the good bits, forgot all the crap we had to do as a council, the crap marks I got – how I managed to scrap through I still thank Jesus, the torment of the A Levels, and more. Even though I try to put myself back into those days, I knew they happened, and they were tough, but I don’t remember the vivid pain, the hurt, the fear, the anxiousness, and no, I’m not complaining that I cannot recall.

And there’s these four years – and somehow, I know I am going to remember the good bits only, once again. Remember Ithaca and the States and the time of my life as the time of my life (but forget that Ithaca was a countryside, the crying everyday when homesick part, or all the really tough segments of the travel);

Even NTU I will remember fondly, I think – will forget the crap food of Canteen B, the exams that never seem like a possibility, the projects that never stop coming, FYP the mother of all Ps – all these coupled with events outside of school and having to juggle them all while keeping sane and delighted. I take comfort that all the difficult and impossible parts will never hold a place in memory – for only the good parts will retain. I won’t call this delusional, just the brilliant way our mind works.

And that’s why I look forward to March, when we can look back at the four years, celebrate its completion, and hopefully I can say that I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith, and then finally go travelling.

study one hour - kick ball with dong one hour - study half hour - eat two hours - study fifteen minutes - play soccer with boys barefooted and kick ball till toe almost splits one hour - study ten minutes - send emails to client and this and that two hours - look for new music three hours - study one hour - mini jam with abang in his room taking ten minutes to recall how to play Eb one hour altogether - study ten minutes - drink coffee forever - go sit for exam. very smart.

Is an awesome genre.

Please check out Rai. She lets you smile even though she is singing about heartbreak and sadness. And one more swede for you - Martin Genell. For coffee music instead, try Josh Ritter, Shivaree's Goodnight Moon or Clem Snide, sure to spruce up the brew.

Contrary to what you think, school (aka fyp and exams) is not the reason for my apparent vexations.

My msn nicks and blog entries might shout sad, but it's not school - there are a whole load of other stuff that I wish I can share here but somehow this blog has never been able to transcend the superfluous to serve that purpose of tell-it-all.

Thanks for the love and I vow to love you the same way. I've given it to Jesus.

we celebrated the end of projects for issues in advertising class at raffles marina. it's this perfect tuckaway in tuas that i wish we knew earlier about. on a nice day, it's a great place to getaway from school (parking free and empty after lunch hour - plug!) next time, we could even bring our swim wear, jump into the pool to cool off and stare at rich people's boats against malaysia as a backdrop.

the idea of school being almost over is too surreal. we grew nostalgic over fish & chips and tikka chicken. dr lwin started the emo-ing first and i was, as usual, pretty close to crying. all my small classes like the one with dr p. have been the best - learnt so much cause there's time for everyone. so here's an advice - Go for the small classes and don't herd with everyone.

tmr is our last lecture together as a cohort. no more cenite, no more three hour sessions, no more screaming at vending machines when they run out of cheezels, no more no more.

yet the time for reminiscing has not come.