just a quick short post before i go unpack my luggage and then pack my sch bag for tomorrow. ripped this off another friend's blog and laughed my head off soooo many times haha. herein lies the reason why i wanna go back to spore every summer. besides family, food and friends (the 3 big Fs in life, and not forgetting the one and only F in WTF), part of the allure in returning home lies in speaking singlish. it may not manifest itself as sharp pangs for sporean food that set my salivary glands into overdrive, nor does it come in the form of occasional dull aching for the familial comforts back home; but the moment i reach singapore, i know that i'm in my element. anyhow put words together people also can understand. such is the behemoth power of singlish haha. the conversion over the next 2 months from weekend boulevardier to flip-flop heartlander starts right now.

tout cela sent la fin. the end is near: just 6 more papers and i'll be done. for one month at least, till the orals come. no word in any language can convey how thoroughly sickened i am of studying these days. revision has reached a stage where i practically know what stuff is located on which page, and everything that i ought to know is alr up there, knowledge so forcefully crammed that it's only raring to be regurgitated (in the case of philosophy), or applied to the best of my abilities for the e other subjects. thank god i didn't sign up for the école polytechnique concours (knowing full well that the upper academic crust will wrinkle its nose at my bare-faced audacity..), as that will mean i'll have to work on my physical fitness and read all those computing notes that i've gleefully chucked away in the dustiest recesses of my shelf.

basically, the four sets of exams that i'll be done with differ from this one in that the latter comprises an additional physical fitness test, which includes running and swimming, as well as a computing component. computing has never been my forte, but running and swimming competitively against the french will prob seal my fate faster than u can say "boo!". credit, of coz, has to be given to dear napoléon bonaparte, who just had to add a military dimension to this école. word has it that a 2.4km timing of roughly 9.5 mins had earned this guy the 17th position in a pack of god-knows-how-many. when i heard that, i knew i simply stand no chance.

the papers last week were much easier compared to the previous 2 sets, but this was expected as this set only allows entry into 2nd-grade écoles. remind me again why i love this particular elitist system that sifts out the weaker ones. much as i hate the rigour of it, i have to admit that i've learned a lot. granted, i enjoy grumbling and complaining abt schoolwork, especially philosophy and all that anal shizz that comes with it. but it's only on hindsight that i realised that i've unknowingly studied some of the greatest works ever written in the european literary world. authors from the canon of frenc literature include pierre corneille, rené chateaubriand, marcel proust and malebranche. i learned that the classical theatrical period is characterised by a pole of symmetry and equilibrium, be it in the timing e.g the rhythmic pacing in the scenes, or the venue e.g scenes where all the protagonists are present on stage; whereas the baroque era echoed the tumultuous history then, which is marked by a weakening of royal power, violence by duels and a tyrannical control of the arts. as for the Spanish Golden Age, we did Cervantès' Don Quichotte ( or don quixote in english) last year and analysed the power of imagination through the eyes of that spanish errant knight (gawd, i can surely remember those awful dissertations where i have to expound on what imagination does to man, and i remember resisting the urge to conclude that 'too much idle imagination makes one loony'). this year, we studied the edification of the marxist philosophy in the wake of the french revolution, and its links with the class struggles and the misunderstanding that napoléon's nephew would represent the peasants' best interests. what made me vomit blood ten times over however, was the contrast drawn between the ascendant figure of napoleon versus the sham that was his nephew. i rem i was patiently writing the lyrics to an english song for my friend beside me throughout that particular lesson. *shudders* really boring stuff that made my mind wander for a full 2 hours.

in english even, where i have to bi-translate english and french articles, i was somehow able to get a better feel of the nuances in the french language, and i think that sorta helped me in my english as well. engineering physics and chemistry are quite okay, so no comments there. but mathematics, my my my... what can i say about my most revered subject? let's just say i wldn't wanna have anything to do with it in the future if possible. having said all this, it's quite depressing to know that after sitting for so many exams, there's no point aspiring to enter a top-notch grande école as the system is against me. besides, i cannot discount the fact that i'm prob too dumb to beat the french at their own game. dreams wilting even before the seeds are sown. hurray.

thankfully, i had a quick getaway last wkend to visit F in notts. it was a very last-min decision. i was supposed to be studying last tues nite, but i went online instead, saw his mail, decided to try my luck at eurostar.com, and miraculously managed to get my tix at 60 euros!!! and so i was able to meet F after like one year. the train ride there was spent admiring the countryside and reading an excellent novel that was left unfinished from the previous eurostar journey. as the train tore past vast fields of yellow oil-seed flowers, i found it hard to believe that i actually dared to travel during my exam period, and my heart gave a guilty lurch. but i consoled myself with the fact that i'd have bummed my time away even if i had stayed in paris. the weather's so beautiful out there i surely wldnt stay at home to study.

anyway, 4 hours later and i was finally there! hardly any pleasantry was exchanged, and the interaction pretty much cleaved to tradition within 5 mins of meeting him. we were soon catching up and laughing like hyenas throughout that day. nothing much has changed- the slightest thing could set us cackling away like idiots, and i pity whoever crossed our paths in sainsbury's and at broadmarsh; for we found crude humour in the most banal of things, and were positively a social hazard to those around us.

the 3 days passed by in a peaceful blur, and i think this breather did me much good as the past 3 weeks have taken a great deal out of me. a big shout-out definitely goes out to F, for having very graciously hosted me despite this being his exam period, and for all the incessant cooking that he had had to do to satiate this bottomless pit aka moi. it's a pity though, that the summer temperatures are really starting to soar, as it brought about a lull in the conversations in the afternoons, and was prob the cause of his splenetic behaviour. all in all, it was a gd break. on the last morning, i had time to do a bit of shopping. have i mentioned how cheap some books are in england? waterstone's apparently has half-price offers weekly, and W H Smith at st pancras has '3 for 2' offers. i spent a gd full hour in them, and if i weren't already cumbered with 3 bags, i wld prob have gotten myself a few more books. how to find such regular offers in paris, or even in spore u tell me?? and oh, i had a field day at M&S's 'simply food' section as well. i went to notts with 2 bags and a double chin, and came back to paris with extra poundage and a bonus triple choco-fudge chin. looks like i left singapore last august as jevon, and will return back home this summer as jevons. hi mum! hi dad! please get me a new bedframe just in case. im so generously padded at the sides now that i look like a male version of this:

gwen stefani- fantabulously rotund. she cld be an airbag or a trampoline for her kid.

i can't wait to stuff myself silly when i go back to spore. in 2 months' time, hopefully.

i just can't resist putting this up too (after all, this was THE picture at this marvelous photoshop site that made me snort out e water i was drinking):

COUPLE PORTRAIT- when horses unite

come may 30th, sex and the city will be released in the US. if i were to be on the french cinematic board that does the translation for movie titles, i think id come up with 'horse and the city', 'sex at the farm' , or 'Mr. Big and horse' etc. gosh, it will be so much fun horsing around with the titles, bad pun fully intended. =)

dear internet,

how i have missed the smell of your morning breath, your company in the afternoon when my brain goes on screensaver-mode, and your loving embrace in the evening just before i leave. ive missed u so badly it feels so right to be back here banging away at the keyboard, and having you, my dear receptacle, accept all my rubbish and yet not judge me for it. i promise u'll never go hungry for as long as i can help it.

and so, this week has seen me taking the second series of exams. 2 more weeks, 50 more hours of brain-wringing, and i'll be done with this first stage. yippee! i counted the no. of exam hours for these 4 torturous weeks, and guess what's the grand total? NINETY NINE hours. now that's more than just an A-star. that's a frigging one point shy of a perfect score. ive written so much my right middle finger is callused from all the writing. and it's an all-too-familiar scenario as the last minutes tick away before we're to put our pens down: id look at my watch and go 'alamak!' before scribbling away madly. i always start off writing neatly and underlining the answers, labeling the diagrams blablah but as time slips away ever so quickly, whatever gd intention i have will be thrown out the window as i wld rather solve as many questions as possible.

for my econs A-levels essay, i rem each line usually had about 10 words at the start, but for the last page, i think there were about 5 words max for each. i wrote like an illiterate person wielding a pen for the very first time in his life. my words were large, cursive (read: squiggly) and were downright an eyesore to read haha. history's gonna repeat itself these 4 wks. and god bless the soul of the person who's gonna mark my organic chemistry scripts. i think my crude drawing of dinitrophenylhydrazone at the end has to be the largest and most lopsided version he has ever come across in his entire chemistry career. that's no mean feat im telling u. the benzene ring i drew occupied about 8 lines haha. i had no choice as i knew i was down to the very last minute and my pencil was racing across the paper. lets just hope his red pen doesn't race across it too.

recounting such fiascoes hardly seems to be heartening, so i shall move on to something else. i went out earlier this afternoon alone for a jaunt, and i took a bus to velizy. the journey's about half an hour, so i was sitting there listening to my ipod for abt 10 mins into my ride, when this mum and her baby girl boarded and planted themselves 2 seats in front of me. the baby girl was a real-life mascot for disney, everything on her was disney-related. shoes,socks, skirt, top, jacket, bag and water battle. and oh my gawd, i dun think ive ever heard a baby emit that kind of noise. she wasn't screaming or throwing tantrums, she was singing. and by singing, im not referring to melodic warbling that will keep u enchanted and spellbound. spellbound i was indeed, but for the wrong reasons. i couldn't tell what was making this weird sound at first, so i removed my earphones and boy was i shocked to see that it came from the baby. she's 3 years old at most, a cute cuddly bundle of joy who, if observed thru a silent movie, cld possibly make adults go for reverse vasectomy. tufts of golden-brown hair, a sweet smile and chubby fists clenched and held high above her head. but oh my gawd, the sound she made.. it's like a cat was being raped or some sick cow fell over in mud. i watched in morbid fascination as she was presumably play-acting some disney female role. never underestimate the power of imagination in babies or toddlers, for these young things have an uncanny ability of portraying themselves as anyone they fancy. now, this little girl (let's just name her.. Mélodie hah), i thought she was trying to be jasmine from aladdin as i thought i recognised some parts of e 'song' despite her best efforts at butchering it. but nope, i dun remember any moaning EH-EHH-EEHHH parts from jasmine in the movie. it was only a few minutes later that i realised that she might be trying to be Ariel the mermaid. and i think the part she was imitating must have been the part where ariel met the bad witch or smth, because nothing else could have explained the EH-EHH parts. as for the hands held high above the head, i guess she must have been awestruck by ariel's long red tresses floating in the water. her mum was nodding her head from side to side to the rhythm of the song (if u can even consider it a rhythm in the first place), and it was really painful, yet amusing to watch. either the girl has yet to develop a musical ear, or she'll never have one. that's the harsh reality of it.

i can see her parents 2 years down the road already, with their musical jukebox of a progeny playing her role as Ariel as dutifully as ever in the living room while they are busy somewhere else in the house. and while their little girl's singing with much gusto (dun forget she's 2 years older now), replete with mops as hair-props at the side, her dad would just sidle up ever so discreetly near her mum and ask, "is that our daughter, or is someone fondling a llama in our living room?"

in other news, i'll be going to scotland right after my exams! i'm so happy that i can finally travel. ive not traveled since december, all because i had to stay in to study during my winter and easter hols, and it might all very well be in vain as i dun think i've aced any paper. anyhow, im still gonna have a blast in scotland. id be sure to buy myself a kilt and wear it au naturel, get bagpipes to serenade my dear nessie in loch mond, and... what else? hmm, thats as far as my scottish knowledge goes. oh, maybe i can rival mélodie with my bagpipes if i ever meet her again. let's see who can be more jarring now lol.

i just reread what ive typed and im shocked by how much i crap. sadly, yours truely do not really have any pearls of wisdom to dispense, so here's a feeble attempt:

(i humbly christen it)
le théorème du téléphone- when you dial a wrong number, you never get an engaged tone.

and it is my due honour to say that it's been proven right twice this week. my precious credits argh.