Newsletter Nostalgia

As the title suggests, this post will contain useless facts about the things I've done. I may be twenty or thirty years too early to be nostalgic but it's never too late to get used to being old isn't it? To make a long elaboration into a short single sentence summary, this is the story of how some newsletters I've written for came about.

Because name me one kid who didn't try starting up their own newsletter for fun on pieces of stapled scrap paper.

The International Science and News Magazine was a self-published magazine I made at the age of nine. The price was written as "20 cents" but was actually only free for borrowing. The articles in it weren't very reliable, after all most of it derived from whatever health fad my Mom went through at that time and whatever theories my father and brother came up with to disprove its effectiveness.

Nevertheless, I wrote short eight sentence articles along with messy crosswords drawn without a ruler and animal facts from The Hemisphere Kid which I subscribed to back then but never bothered to actually read. I stopped writing for this magazine after a few issues.

Other than writing newsletters and stories on scrap paper to entertain others, I was eleven when I discovered a newspaper written by another class. They published a newspaper and a magazine named after their own class which was read by their own classmates.

Fascinated, I thought about starting up my own but needed help in gaining readership and people to help with the articles. Lucky for me, a friend of mine liked the idea of starting a class newspaper.

We spent Science lessons coming up with ideas and finally writing them down on pieces of foolscap paper stapled together. She did most of the main illustrations and I got to do some of it. Articles in the newspaper was mostly taken from websites and news travelling around the school.

Fake advertisments were placed in there including sign-ups for the "Official Whiny Netball Club" for people like me who were afraid of playing netball. The advertisement promised that upon joining the club, a box with the color of your choice, will be given to you so that you can put it over your head so you can't see where the ball is headed during your P.E. lesson.

The newspaper even had a comic section filled with dry and morbid humor. There was one page at the end left for me to write in which I called "Aunt Sarcastic".

Well, as I believe, in every cheerful sunshine-and-fluffy-kittens kid there is a sarcastic and ever sceptical person waiting to get out.

For my eleven year old self, it came in the form of a grumpy old lady with a college degree in evil.

Aunt Sarcastic was a cartoon elderly woman who wore soft grandma cardigans with a beanie and a skull and crossbones t-shirt. She mostly had a snappy and rather rude retort to every letter she got as she was pretty much the opposite of an Agony Aunt. Again, the dry sense of morbid humor was applied to Aunt Sarcastic's letters and an email account was created for her but I have never used it.

So that's the story behind some of the newsletters/newspapers/magazines I've written. I've written more than these two but I didn't have as much fun writing the other newsletters compared to these.

Now I can't seem to figure out a better way to end this post.

Would this be the appropriate moment to say go figure?

In Which The Title "Happy Curtains" Will Not Match the Post Content

First I would like to toast a glass to the longest title for a post on this blog so far.

Secondly, I would like us to put down our imaginary glasses of Ribena for now. If you have been following the posts in the blog, you'd realise that the posts are getting more depressing.

It's like when you read my posts, the tension from the seriousness of it on your computer screen can be cut with the pointy end of the cursor.

Not really.

Anyway, today's post is on the topic of "Problems".

Not just any problem like a puzzle though but problems that psychologically terrify and change you for the worse. What everyone knows is that everyone has a terrifying problem that confuses them and changes them.

What everyone doesn't realise until they sit down and actually think is why they feel so lost and alone when faced with these questions.

We're afraid of being judged.

The thing is, we are desperate to find someone to share our problems with and hopefully(with a bit of luck), they will understand and be able to not just sympathise but actually empathise. Unfortunately, it is in human nature to judge someone when you do not understand their point of view.

What does it mean to be judged when your point of view is not the same as the person judging you?

Well, I guess that everyone has a certain idea of what this "terrifying problem" is. For some people, it is a big problem when you are lonely and have no one to talk to. For others, they can put up with being lonely but when they face verbal abuse, it is the breaking point for them.

To put it in a conclusion, we tend to judge the problems of others based on what we, as individuals, think is a awful problem. For some strange reasons, no matter how aware we are of the fact, we are unable to think that it is not the situation the person is in that decides how terrible and psychologically affecting the problem may be, but by how big the negative impact on the said person really is.

With this fact in mind, we are afraid that we are unable to find someone to empathise with us, or worse, judge us negatively on how we react to the problems we are facing.

Yes, we have all scoffed at someone. I know I have. Sometimes, when I see people whining and crying over schoolwork, I tend to think "How is that such a big problem? I have the same exact homework as you and you're crying over it? I have even bigger problems than that!"

I guess I too forget that I'm not suppose to judge the situation but the impact of the situation on the person.

Sure, it's difficult to empathise with someone when we believe that there are bigger problems than the problem of the person who we have difficulty empathising with but we have got to try our best to take that mental block we have away as much as possible. Catch yourself making judgements on the person's problem? It's alright, just stop and try to concentrate on what the person who is telling you about their problem is saying.

And if anyone wants to compare problems with me to try and judge me, go right ahead. I'm providing the details at the bottom because I need to tell someone or something that is not my pale-white wall.

I'm lonely and frustrated that I don't have much friends to talk to. Whatever friends I have left feek distant and I feel like I'm always left out of the loop. I hate that I've changed so much this year and that I've been unable to concentrate on anything. I hate that I can be so mean at times and I'm so afraid that I've hurt people without knowing it. I hate that when I hear laughter, I think people are laughing at me even if they're complete strangers. I'm upset that I feel second to everyone. I don't have a friend to confide in and to empathise for me. I don't understand why I have to urge to cry and I tear up all the time without even understanding why. I hate that I think these are big problems. I hate that this paragraphs is so full of "I"s.

Some may choose to wonder why I lose sleep over such "petty problems" and some may actually understand. Honestly, I really dislike it when people cut me off while I'm talking to them and then try to compare their problems to mine and it makes me feel worse because they make me feel like as if my problems aren't terrifying or important.

But in the end, we can't force people to share their problems and we can't expect to always be able to understand everyone. We also can't expect people to act the way we want them to.

But hey, that's some people isn't it. Just like how there are some things we can never truly solve or understand.




P.S. Perhaps I have made a slight mistake in my post title about the post not matching the title but boy do the curtains in the video have the potenital to look happy.

Too School For Cool

Before I go on tell you another story, I'll tell you this story.

So my brother is some volunteer person for a Biology Olympiad thing and he got to bring home souvenirs which is pretty cool.

Until I saw this.

To put this in simple terms, this is definitely a win.

Candy coloured like flags, yes please.

So anyway, back to the story that is related to the title. I am officially too school for cool. It has come to the point when saying "Oh My Gosh" is too hip, too trendy, too teenager-esque to be said to a homework-completing, glasses wearing girl who is forced into the "Nerd" box at first glance.

Yes, according to some, I am no longer an approved person is utter such a phrase or anything else that society associates with stereotypical teenagers.

We shall put this in a Spelling Bee contest perspective shan't we?

Host: Your phrase is "Oh My Gosh".

Contestant: Umm...how was it used?

Host: OH MY GOSH I FOUND LOOKING FOR ALASKA IN THE SCHOOL LIBRARY. WHO INTRODUCED IT, I MUST FIND THE PERSON AND HUG THEM. OH MY GOSH. OH MY GOSH.

Contestant: O-H-M-Y-G-O-S-H

Back to the point, I was stopped from celebrating the arrival of a wonderful book just because I simply used the phrase "Oh My Gosh".

The video below shows that I am allowed to be excited and happy about things despite the nerdy status I am forced to carry around. Unfortunately this does not seem to be the case in reality.

Yes. Maybe.

I just realised that two posts down, I said that I would be posting "Trip Part 2".

Two posts down a.k.a "Story Time 3".

So, I should be getting it done soon but the lack of inspiration, increase of distractions and the Great Mount Homework has prevented me from doing so.

Nevertheless, I shall post a completely irrelevant topic to what is stated above this sentence now.

Commonly Asked Questions (Wheeee!)

Q: Are you Filipino/have mixed blood?

A: Nope. I am 100% Chinese. Also the phrase "mixed blood" makes me feel really uncomfortable because of the word "blood" and I'm starting to think of blenders and gory things. Darn.

Q: Are you a lesbian?

A: Even my mom asks me that. Mind-bloooooown. Nope, I'm not.

Q: Are you like really into science?

A: No, I'm like really into arts. However, I do think that quantum physics is fascinating and I have as much respect for people who win Nobel Prizes for Science as for people who win Tony Awards.

The next part of the post is mostly useless facts for my own reference.

I have 16 draft posts.

Some titles include: I Should Be Doing Something Else, Escaping The Sun, Kaaaatniss, Wait For Me!, There They Go

Alright, I can guess that there is a 50 per cent chance you are procrastinating on the internet while your work cries silently for your attention. Now that I've filled your brain with useless information, go do your homework if you have any.


It's a short post but I really need to get back to my homework now.

Sharing Day

This is the post where I share things like I usually do on the other posts on the blog except this time, I give it a title related to "sharing", yay!

First of all, I just want to let anyone who has ever done a solo of Don't Cry For Me Argentina that you are an amazing person because I don't know how you did it and why are you not living in a solid gold mansion and playing table tennis with solid gold tables on a solid gold private cruise ship. As long as you promise not to kick puppies and be a nice person, everyone should love and respect you for that.

Honestly. I love all of you.

And then this is the part where I share a true story.

You know how everyone has a special skill or talent that they need to develop. For example, let's say dancing. So you've been dancing your whole life and people have complimented you on it and you know you're pretty good at it. Then one day, someone spots your talent and invites you to perform in some amazing production.

That is the moment when you have realised that you have leveled up in the skill/talent you have, so you decide to throw a big party.

That's not the point.

The point is, I realise that I have leveled up in a certain skill recently. No, I have never been complimented for it (It's more like being yelled at) but I know I am fantastic at it.

The Art Of Annoying People.

Yes, I have managed to up my game and annoyed a pickpocket.

I am not joking.

There I was standing, when I felt my bag being unzipped and something moving inside it. My first thought was: They're taking something. However, I snapped out of my daze to remember that I didn't have a single phone, camera or even a wallet in my bag, thank goodness.

This may or may not be caused by my plan to transfer my phone into my coat pocket and then putting my hand over the phone and in the pocket. I then rolled tissues into a ball and placed only two plastic bottles and a notebook into my bag. Yes, I was well aware that I was might become the prey of pickpockets and prepared myself before hand.

I turned around and there-they-were. They had their hands in my bag and were furiously searching for something.

They looked up at a minute and while I was a little shocked at what I saw, the person rolled their eyes at me and gave me an annoyed look like it was my fault that I couldn't let them find something to take. Of course they quickly pulled their hands out and ran away before I could ask them what they wanted.

Later that day, I found my bag opened several times while sitting in crowded trains.

I guessed that just like the previous person, they were unable to find anything too.

Oh anyway, I'm working on a project (a.k.a novel writing) but I'm kind of stuck on character personalities because the story will be mostly focused on that. Hopefully, I will have figured things out by November so I'll be one step in front of Nanowrimo, hah!

Unfortunately, I am struggling with the amount of homework that feels more like a stampede and I don't think I'll be able to hand in my homework on time at this rate.

So before I go to stare at my wall, I'm going to share one last thing. I keep telling myself to share it but I keep forgetting so here it is today.

Anyway, bare: A Pop Opera (title according to wikipedia because youtube has so many titles) is about the struggles of two gay boys in their school.

So if you've got nothing much to do today and are in need of some music, click on the video below now.




The whole thing (Part 1 and 2) takes about two hours. Enjoy!

Story Time 3

Oh hey look! It is another "Story Time" post! I absolutely love writing these.

So today, I wrote a script instead of a short story like I usually do. I was suppose to post about my experiences during the trip to London/Paris today but this idea for a script popped up in my head and won't let me go!

So I sat down and thought about it for about five minutes or so and then I sat down and typed it.

When I first made the draft in my head, it was a light-hearted piece based on the comedic life of a seemingly daft girl. However, when I finally typed it out, the story grew darker, eventually becoming a story of a seemingly daft girl but this time with a rather secret and tragic life.

This script also kind of started because a friend of mine asked me to try writing a script one day.

Anyway, one of the examples of the things I decided to change was the colour of the t-shirt in the script which was originally orange, for which she argues that it is "fashionably-ugly".

Here it is anyway, I don't have a title for it really.

A girl (who looks like she is in her late teens), walks across the stage looking strangely cheerful. Looking confused, she looks around like as if searching for something. Finally, she seems to have spotted someone in the direction of the audience. She waves enthusiastically towards where the audience are and moves to the front of the stage.

Oh hello!

(Giggling) Don’t be silly, you’re not John. You’re my mother!

Alright John, maybe I do know you...you were my best friend during...

(Nodding at something the invisible John said) Yes, yes somewhere along those years. You want to hear a story? (Without giving time for invisible John to reply, she jumps straight into it) You see, when I was seven, my mother abandoned me at this place called Roland’s Funhouse where she used to work at! (Now slightly sad but still smiling) I spent a lot of my time there. I don’t remember her well but her skimpily-dressed friends at her workplace took good care of me.

(In an even more cheerful tone) Anyway, to make a lovely story shorter, my mother left me and I was whisked away to an orphanage. (Enthusiastically) So now you’re like my replacement mother, Mother John!

Shh, yes you’re my mother. Now as I was saying Mother, I went to a lovely party yesterday! I didn’t tell you? Well, it is a party my friend Lily threw for me. I couldn’t throw my own party; I didn’t have any money when you left me years ago.

Ah yes, now where was I? So at the party, there was this man who told me he could do amazing party tricks if I paid him 50 bucks...

(Nodding) Oh yes Mother, I have money now. I’ll tell you later. I gave him the money and he pulled out a soft toy lion. He put his head in the lion’s mouth! Oh Mother, it was a very good trick indeed!

(With an admiring look) No not in the way he tricked me but the trick he did was so brave and daring! The teeth of the toy lion’s were very realistic!

You don’t believe me? Well, Mother John, you will never believe me will you? I went shopping yesterday. I took money from shopkeepers when they weren’t looking. Took things too when they weren’t aware.

Oh hush Mother, hush. Let me show you what I got you. (She bends over to pick up an imaginary bag. She pretends to pull a cloth-like object out of it and holds it out slightly above head for the audience to see.) It’s a lovely t-shirt isn’t it, Mother. I think it’d fit you perfectly. (Lowers it to chest level)

Look at it Mother! (Looks down at the t-shirt) On it, there are the words: I should believe in what you say. (Flips t-shirt over, still keeping it at chest level) But the back of it is more important, it is the part people should be reading. They would you know? After all you’ve got that... (She raises her hand to rub her left cheek) thing on your face; not at all a pretty sight. (She smiles again, looking back down at the t-shirt and reads) You should believe in what I say.

(Looks back up, eyes wider than ever with excitement)Oh Mother, I have this theory that if more people believed what you said, you would be much more open in believing in what others say. And then you’d believe what I say too instead of being so suspicious all the time.

(Now frowning) Oh yes, I got it today. No, I couldn’t have been at the mall last Friday. I went out today. (She sighs and pretends fold the clothing and places it gently into the bag)Well, I can’t be responsible for the death of the many people in the very same shopping mall I got this t-shirt for you in, Mother. No it’s seventy-three Mother, five other bodies were hidden- oh you suddenly seem very interested Mother! That is wonderful. I was joking Mother, of course I am not involved in this. No I was not locked up in some room this morning, I went shopping! This mall wasn’t closed today, I went there!

(Now laughing in a fond manner) My dear mother, you don’t believe in anything I say either.  To you, everything I say could just be a lie or a joke.

(Suddenly afraid) Oh Mother, don’t take me back to the building please, it’s grey and frightening! It’s lonely in there. I hear voices at night in my room Mother. You wouldn’t want me to feel afraid would you?

I can call for the guards outside the room? (In a temper) I don’t want to be treated like a trapped damsel, Mother! I want to be loved as a child!

(Now smiling again) I am a child aren’t I? Mother John, Mother! It will be my eighteenth birthday tomorrow; don’t suppose I’ll get some cake? Oh I do love you so Mother, but you must promise to wear the t-shirt! After all, the colour red was so trendy last Friday!

As the girl stands alone on the stage, now looking around at nothing, the stage grows dark till there is complete darkness.

It wasn't confusing was it? I hope you figured out what really happened in the story!

Anyway, I hope that the next post will finally be the London/Paris trip one.

It shall be called "Trip Part 2".

Trip

The title's a play on words.

It refers to the trip I just came back from.

It also refers to the act of stumbling.

I just came back from a trip to London/Paris. If you happen to have seen a girl wearing a bright red toggle coat in these places for the past two weeks, that's probably me.

Before I get to the "Travel-y Trip-py Trip" part of this post, I'll write about the "Stumbling" part first.

I get so used to hearing people wish they were perfect.

Can I be perfect, can I just be perfect. Can I be humble and elegant and have everyone like me.

I guess you could say it's a little bit different for me.

I wish I could change my flaws instead of being "perfect" (whatever perfect is considered). I could live with not everyone liking me.

But I could also live without certain flaws.

And I just hate that I cannot change them despite being aware of them.

I have this tendency to pretend that I never need anyone to apologise to me.

That I am perfectly fine to have people walk all over me.

Instead I bottle everything up.

Then I begin hate everything and everyone.

But I can never pin things on others for long because I just feel sad and everything suddenly becomes about me and oh my god why am I so selfish.

Honestly, if I was to become a villain, I'd probably end up building a giant stage and controlling people to listen to me every single second of the day.

From the view of the villain after finally being captured by a triumphant superhero, I'll probably say something like:

I just wanted some attention. It wasn't suppose to harm anyone. I just wanted someone who could pay attention to me for more than five minutes. I  just wanted the attention.

And I won't be able to be angry for long because everytime I get angry I burst into tears which is why I do not allow myelf to get angry in public.

For this trip to London/Paris you could say I "tripped" quite a bit.

I was being ignored the whole time.

And for someone who craves the attention, I got angry really fast.

It doesn't last though because tears start falling.

I found myself running through the streets multiple times actually.

I may just be a naturally dramatic person but it felt amazing running through the streets of a country I didn't know well.

Just me, my bright red toggle coat, a subway/metro ticket and strangers.

And then I forgot who I was.

No labels, no names.

I could be anyone.

I could be someone who lived in London their whole life.

I could be a singer acting in a new music video.

I could be a teenager looking for a hat shop in Paris.

I could stop being me.

It all came crashing down when my family caught up with me.

But I did it again, and again and again throughtout the trip.

Just me, a bright red toggle coat but with pockets of unknown and made-up objects and even more strangers.

Well, on to the "trip" part of the post. It was amazing because I got to visit the different theatres in London and we don't have that many musicals going on at the same time back here! There was all sorts of people in the subway peforming too. They had put out hats and containers to collect money. There was this guy who controlled a band with "muppets" playing instruments.

I think Chong Rei would like to know that there were lots of european and even american guys breakdancing on the streets of Paris.

I even got to visit the WB Studio Tour for The Making Of Harry Potter which was absolutely fantastic!

My hotel had a lovely view of a really tiny park in which was called Norfolk Square. There are tons of these tiny parks around London.

In Paris, I got to visit the Notre Dame and there was a church choir singing during the mass. It was lovely, their voices echoing around the building.

Oh and there was this rather amusing person at the Girl Toys Section in this toy store in London. He had put on a pair of fairy wings on top of his store uniform and was singing loudly while pointing and waving what I think was a toy sparkly wand. And he was sliding and dancing across the floor!

When I got to visit the Tower of London, the man who checked our bags told me where to find the best doughnuts (The Food Hall in Harrods). I even got into an incident which I made a pickpocket annoyed with me but it wasn't intentional I promise!

But that's another story for another day.

I've got so much to write but I'll have do it another time.

Cheerios!