Uncomfy

My birthday is just next week. I think the reason why people in general (ok, mainly my Dad) get so uncomfortable with birthdays is that is an in-your-face indication that yet another year has passed - so what have you managed to achieve? 

Last year at this time, I was in Scotland with Ianthe. We were probably on our 3 day 2 night tour of the Scottish Highlands and the Isle of Skye. After that we went Couchsurfing with 2 very nice hosts (funnily enough, not local Scots) in Stirling and Glasgow. We were footloose and fancy free. I was still unsure of what the future would bring, and my dissertation due date was about as far as I could think. 

This year I'm now a teacher. My achievement has been to graduate and work slightly over 6 months. Sometimes I enjoy my job and feel contented, other times I don't. Sometimes my students like to try and get on my nerves, and ask Why Did I Want To Be A Teacher. Some other students just plain disrespect me. Although these incidents do get to me (Lord knows I'm just disappointed now thinking about today), they remind me that Hey, 22 (or 23 as I'll be next week) Is Too Young To Settle And Just Be Contented. 

Composition Workshops

Today I taught yet another class of 10 year olds. The lesson for this week was a composition workshop focusing exclusively on a single component of composition. Towards the end of the lessons, I gave them three 'fun' scenarios to write four paragraphs about (one included a dumpster!). Some of them managed to do the work easily, especially after I emphasised how we needed to include the writing techniques we taught them. Others however, had great trouble. I ended up working with some of them them one on one to show them how to work in various techniques to pad up their tales. It then struck me why I had zero incentive to write fiction any more nowadays - it's cause I already use my creative juices trying to save their compositions about bribe-accepting judges and blind-dogs in dumpsters.

Today I also went out with Ashraf for dinner. We ate pasta at Doodle, and then walked about. We even bumped into an ex-student of his, now working part-time at one of the shops in Square 2. Hadn't seen the guy in over 6 months, so it was nice meeting up again.

Tomorrow will bring more compositions, but with my 12 year olds this time. Somehow between the ages of 11 to 12, they manage to lose their creative sparks and enthusiasm for written expression. I anticipate much cajoling and mocking remarks needed to survive tomorrow's lessons. 

Reversi

Finished reading Cloud Atlas yesterday. Although it was a enjoyable book, I spent exactly 2 weeks reading it. I think it's because I always end up reading quite little near the end of the working week, when I get oh-so-very-tired. Anyway of Cloud Atlas, not all parts struck a chord with me, although I was quite impressed by it. In particular, I liked the Sonmi and Luisa Rey parts, with Robert Frobisher and Timothy Cavendish's parts placing about 3rd and 4th place. Unpleasant however, was the middle part of the book titled Sloosha's Crossin' an' Ev'rythin' After. Didn't like that one bit. Read that part as fast as I could just so I could get to the Sonmi part afterwards :/ The Sonmi section however, almost made me cry. It made me feel incredibly sad. So that's the part I thought was the best.

Taught two classes today, both of 10 to 11 year olds. No wonder I felt so tired afterwards. Enjoyable classes though, especially the first one. I spoke to the kids about the old practice of foot binding, tried to explain the concept of dowries and why traditional families preferred having male to female children. Wonder if any of what I said actually stuck. Nevertheless, it was fun to teach.

Just finished reading the Graphic Novel version of the Sherlock Holmes tale, A Sign of Four. Graphic Novels are great for plot and atmosphere when one is very tired. Still because of their cost and relative rarity, I always end up rationing them for days when I feel like I need an extra treat. As tomorrow is Crazy Day at work, I think I need all the treats I can get now to power me through Wednesday!

Also downloaded Reversi on my phone, and can't stop playing it. I remember first discovering it when I was about 10, on a compilation of games that my parents had bought for my gameboy. I remember playing it on road trips to Ipoh. My gameboy was purple, and I had thrown an almighty tantrum to get it (I still cringe at the memory of it now). That gameboy was awesome though. The recollection of how I got it, not so much. Eep.

Dolls

Over the weekend, my mum had a new wardrobe installed in my room. The new wardrobe is fitted and custom made, and cost just a bit under S$2000. While I wish I could say it was solely done for my benefit, by mother had an ulterior motive, which was to store her extra clothes in my room. However now that I had come back from the UK with extra bulky winter clothes, we were running out of places to store all these extra clothes. Hence, she decided to get a new built-in wardrobe put into my room. Now I feel tiny in my room because the damn wardrobe is at least two times my height, and my stuff has all been shoved into a corner of the room to make space for the wardrobe. This simply means one thing: spring cleaning. 

Today I went to Daiso with my Dad to pick up those plastic boxes to slot things in. After we came home I spent the little bit of time before dinner re-arranging my papers and all. Then, I stumbled upon these dolls - a veritable blast from the past.

In 2001, I first went to Yunnan, China with my Grandparents. I remember being appalled at how dirty the toilets were, and how bad smelling everything was. I also remember demanding Coke at every meal, and eating only fried eggs with tomatoes and rice, because I found the food there so vile. In addition to be doted on gastronomically by my Grandparents, my Grandma also spoiled me by buying me all the dolls I wanted. In Yunnan they were selling these dolls (for about S$4 I think) dressed up in various ethnic clothes of all the minority groups in China. I used to play with the dolls everyday afterwards, until I was about 12-ish I think, in the back of my Grandparent's room. One of them even had a sword!

Of all the dolls, I remember this one was my favourite. She always starred as the downtrodden heroine. Even now almost 12 years later, she's still my favourite. I think it's the relative simplicity of the outfit, and non-clashing colours.

I put all the dolls back into their boxes, and put them into a plastic bag with the rest of my old stuffed toys. They're all - save my old favourite which I decided to keep for sentimental reasons - destined for better homes at the Salvation Army. 

Dead Pet Stories

Hot Chocolate in Gyeongju

Did quite a bit of marking today. One the questions set was about A Significant Memory, and How It Played A Part in Your Life, and for some reason in one particular class whose papers I marked, they all decided to write about their dead pets. One wrote about how he was given a small kitten when he was 12 as a reward for doing well in his exams. One day however, he left the window open and the cat fell out and died. Another wrote about having a tortoise for 3 years, but one day for weeks on end forgot to feed the poor thing and it died of starvation. There were a hamster stories as well, about hamsters unlatching their cages and running off into the night. 

Most amusingly however, was a tale written by a girl about her pet fish. It started off with her talking about how the first round of goldfish died when her brother decided to feed it tissue paper. Then, her parents bought her a more expensive saltwater set-up, but mysteriously the fish kept disappearing one by one until one day there were simply no fish left. Finally, they tried one last time with guppies. The father however, bought guppies that were too small and got sucked in by a powerful filter. She concluded her story simply by declaring that her family was too incompetent to keep fish alive. LOL.

Masking Tape

And just when I thought my job had almost driven me to the edge of reason, two great classes in a row have gone and restored my faith again. The first is always expectedly a quiet and reasonable class. The second however, tends to be rowdy. This week, they were much more better behaved and responded well to the 'I'll make you stay back with me if you don't complete your work' threat. Namely, they did their work. What made the class GREAT however, was their mature and rather intelligent responses to My Blueberry Nights, when I screened the first portion of the film. The joy I got from getting a proper lesson though with them cannot be relayed in mere words. But then again, they were never as bad a case as one of my other classes. 

Today however, I came prepped in case they misbehaved on an epic scale (they did make me lose my voice last week). I bought me a roll of masking tape, 60mm in width. Not to tape up their mouths as one might imagine, but rather to use as a gavel to pound tables with if I needed to get attention and didn't want to shout (one can't imagine how constant shouting is until it becomes a job prerequisite). I got the idea from an old teacher I had in Primary school, who was really stern and terrified us girls. To get the students in order, she'd pound the teachers desk with a roll of masking tape. It produces a rather loud sound, as I tried on my desk today before class. That she had turned a seemingly innocent item into an item of order was not lost on us either. I think that added more to us being scared of her. Funny the things that stick in our memory, and funny how the tables have quite turned today.

Sigh

Days at work like Wednesday and today really, really make me want to quit my job. Even the thought of my salary is not worth it. I dread tomorrow too, because it could very well be another day like today. 

TOILET

While waiting for Jia and Chong Wee to turn up for dinner, I wandered around Art Friend. Amongst the many aisles of art materials, I found this marvellous sheet of stickers. Needless to say, I bought it (despite, ouch, it's price). I shall give it to my lovely mentor as a gift. I'm sure she'll get a massive kick out of it, oho.

Saturday Morning

Last night, I dreamt that I was teaching, and one of the Front Desk girls came to look for me. In her hand, she held my stationary box, and I felt incredibly happy. Then I went on the dream some other things. When I woke up, I realised that I had dreamt getting the stationary box back - dirty puffy seal sticker on the front and all. I now feel slightly melancholy for two reasons: 1) I still do not have my stationary box, 2) I obsessed about it so much that it infiltrated my dreams, ergo I need a life.

Anyway, 2 more classes to reckon with today. Fingers crossed my throat and voice hold up. 

First Day Back At Work

...and I'm already beginning to lose my voice. I think, as I said to my students over and over when they were misbehaving today, that I need another vacation.

In other news, my stationary box is AWOL. I simply cannot find it, and feel kind of naked without it. No red pens, no blanco, no stapler, no nothing. GASP.