Musings of A Girl Named Sharmee

I meant to post this last night. I guess I was too happy rejoicing when Obama won the American Presidential Elections.

I was sleeping till about noon yesterday after returning from the airport to study for the entire night. While happily rolling on my bed, stretching my arms and my cat licking my feet begging me to feed her, I suddenly realised the election results were out! It was already midnight on US when I turned on the TV to CNN.


As of today, I have shifted. Read my future posts at www.sharmeee.wordpress.com

It's an extra 'e' to 'sharmee' at wordpress.

A Levels in two days. No. Make that 36 hours.

I never thought I'd succumb to the stress the A levels give to Singaporean students, but I did. And it was horrible.

Knives poking my head; trying to focus on Sastera cause I love it, a big meat knife piercing my head, running to the toilet, crying to Jay on the phone, then puking my $3.00 lunch into a 7-Eleven plastic bag.

Very nice, Sham. Very nice.

I'm gonna stay headstrong until I get through this storm of information overload. God help me, please.

Remember when I said things would get better in time? Well it did. To a small extent.

I never expected to get over it. After meeting you, however, I realised there's no more butterflies. There wasn't any blood rushing up to my face, and most importantly, I could talk to you. Amazing.

Yet, the heart is still empty.

People say friends are family you choose. To a certain extent, it is true. But for me, I end friendships when I feel it is pointless and going nowhere. Why bother bickering about the same old things when you have differing views on it and no one is willing to compromise? You're not even related by blood. We have a choice of choosing our friends carefully, or get stuck with them when you're unhappy.

It's difficult, especially when I am the one making all the initiatives - let's go here, let's do this, why not we - the list goes on. It's even more difficult when your friends change and its seems that you no longer know them. You make the effort, but it comes to a point where people just start depending on only you to sustain the friendship. Change is good when you like it. But it's horrible when change makes you a withdrawn person who wants to shut off from the rest of the world.

I want to bury myself in books. So I can have the riches. Then perhaps I can enjoy life more. Then again, people are just gonna make friends with you for the money.

If only it wasn't as this complicated. And so I'll tell myself again, it will get better in time.

I'm making cupcakes as I'm typing this.

Have you ever wondered why you made a decision without actually knowing what to expect? That was how I felt when I decided to enroll into MJC. I went in knowing that I want an A level certificate followed by a university degree. I went in knowing that I'll have to sacrifice learning the way the fun way. I went in knowing that I'll have to put in ten times the effort I used to put it back in secondary school. But I never knew what to expect, really.

I've always thought JC would make me rigid. Make me a robot, even a monster, perhaps. I soon realised that no system was able to change you really are. I was still the rebel I was deep inside. Being in a JC never stopper me from doing things I want to do. All along, no one I was close to told me if I was doing the right thing - until last Tuesday when we had our last GP lesson.

Mr Nathan changed my perception on life. He was never afraid to scold us as if we were his own kids. He made me see the bigger picture - it's not all about grades.

"A gauge of me being a good teacher is not the grades you guys will get in the exams. A gauge of me being a good teacher is when I see you ten, twenty years down the road and you've had a good life doing the things you want to do."

By then, I was tearing up, but I held the tears back knowing that it wouldn't be nice to cry in front of him.

"Go chase your dreams - whatever that's left of it."

And I knew I had to go to the toilet when the bell rang. I just had the best lesson in my life and the greatest teacher along with it.

Once again, Aidilfitri is in the air.

I cannot remember the last time I woke up on raya without crying. The end of Ramadhan tears me even before the takbir is heard on radio on the last day of break fast. But when morning comes; when the curtains are all up, tablecloths ready and furniture all polished by my rough and dried hands, I cry for a different reason.

Each Aidilfitri, I make my way to Ghufran for prayers. Following that, I have coffee with eggs and toast with mumsy at Ya Kun coffee. Once we get home, I get ready to go for visiting - with my dad.

That has been the schedule since four years ago.

My heart breaks when I leave my mum and brother at home to go visiting with my dad. My rationale for doing so? Collection. But now that I'm older, I doubt that will be of use. Relatives will start asking what I'm working as and if I brought enough money for their kids. After much consideration for the past two weeks, I've decided to visit my dad over at his place after prayers, then head home to be with momsy and the brother.

The journey will come to an end soon, and I need to be strong. Not only for myself, but my mom as well. Watching 'The Road to Mecca' earlier in the day taught me that faith brings man to places out of his reach.

And it is this faith that will make the journey worthwhile.

Tetapi bagiku, banyak kesedihan yang menyelubungi hidupku.

It makes me wonder how writers are motivated to tell stories - theirs and those that are purely fictional.

There are three kinds of writers; the ones who tell their personal life stories to others, the ones who write wholly fictional stories and those who write fictional stories that were inspired by their own true accounts.

Okay, let's change the term 'writers' to 'storytellers'. On most accounts, storytellers tell stories that they created but have, in one way or another, affected their own lives. And these stories usually have a high impact on the audience, even if it's a negative one. Somehow, the words 'based on a true story' will get more credit, or perhaps critic, from reviewers.

Take 'Freedom Writers' for an example. The story of Erin Gruwell, as a dedicated teacher who pushed aside race to achieve her goal of seeing her first batch of students going somewhere in life, has inspired many others to do the same and she even started a global movement called 'The Freedom Writers'. She shared her joy of teaching with others and proved to those who looked down upon delinquents that anyone can succeed in life.

Then again, the film 'Pay It Forward' gives credit to a little boy who dreams of an ideal world where everyone helps three people and in turn, they each help another three people. Eventually, the entire world population will receive and give help at some point in their life. Yet, this story is purely fictional. Never did the five words 'based on a true story' appear before, during or even after the film. It brought me thinking: are these the dreams of the writers?

I haven't gotten any answers to that question. Do we, as flawed human beings, dream of a perfect world? Or is it just in the minds of storytellers that such idealism exists?

Come back and haunt me.

Ramadhan is coming to an end pretty soon. Which means Prelims are officially over and A's will be haunting me next.

It was a bad day today - horrible dental appointment which is causing my upper jaw to hurt really bad AND the sastera paper that killed the six of us. I'm glad I'm taking off my braces really soon, 13 November, but I know I'll miss it. I like to think braces as accessories. Since I can't wear earrings when I'm out, my braces become my bling. Then again, they are hurting me bad. Ugh. But somehow I still have a huge appetite. I'm wearing light blue now since my baju raye is blue! Ok, will be blue. I haven't bought the baju but will do so on Saturday!

Breaking fast with the Kool Kentals tomorrow at some new restaurant in Simei! I wanted to try out Eighteen Chefs but the menu does not look as good as it sounds. Hmmm.. I think I prefer Badoque still.

It's 5 weeks to A levels and I am figuring out a way to disable my internet connection permanently, or until I finish the exams. Maybe I should spoil the wireless detector or something, eh?

I may be on a hiatus from Monday onwards. Even if I'm not hiatus, I'll probably upload some of my essays up here so that everyone can benefit!

PS: I'm thinking of shifting blog because I realised I've been on sharmee.blogspot.com for four years. I need a career switch!