Stephanie's Sandbox

I really think quizzes have some element of truth to them. Not the complete, absolute truth, but certain things just... pin the tail on the donkey. So whilst others are off scoffing at quizzes, I've decided to do one myself to determine what kinda personality type I am.

You Are An INFP

The Idealist You are a creative person with a great imagination. You enjoy living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close to you. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. In love, you tend to have high (and often unrealistic) standards. You are very sensitive. You tend to have intense feelings. At work, you need to do something that expresses your personal values. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist. How you see yourself: Unselfish, empathetic, and spiritual When other people don't get you, they see you as: Unrealistic, naive, and weak

Most parts are actually relevant, except for the last line. Unrealistic, naive and weak? Alarm bells are going off in my head here. If people do have that perception of me, then I am really quite sad. One of the things I've always prided myself upon is that I am able to grit my teeth and get down and dirty with business once the going gets tough. But of course not without crying bucketfuls of tears first and feeling like Armaaggedon is approaching. Then in someway or another, I will emerge from my emotional constipations once rational thinking takes over.

The Idealist, huh? Reminds me of The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. That's a feast for any idealist.

On a a very bright note my national examinations are ending pretty soon, and this song pretty much sums up my current frame of mind:




It is. So freggin badass.

Edit (4am): The Yong Tau Foo stall at Ang Mo Kio Central is simply delish. I got (almost edible-looking) pictures via my iPhone!

Hi.

I'm Steph.

I like waffles you can buy at local confectionery shops which are topped with blueberry sauce or any other kinda topping you prefer.

I like the idea of sitting out in the cold having a hot bowl of noodles clasped between your knees.

I had my first kiss when I was 15, and my parents don't quite know about that yet.

I attend service every Saturday at a quaint little Church with beautiful stained glass windows around the Bukit Timah area.

I used to be really quite jaded, but now God's begun the healing process.

Put them all together and you get an 18-year-old girl who's a real foodie and a hopeless romantic, and very devoted to God.

And now I challenge you, whoever's reading this, to do a post titled 'Who am I?'... But with your own intepretation of/ approach to the question.

Don't forget to tell me 'bout it once you're done. Wonder what kinda zany responses I'll get. Or whether I'll get any responses.

Today I realised that I've left my traces all over the World Wide Web, despite wanting to remain as inconspicuous as possible. My LJ's URL, for example, can be found on Goofuckingle. Lady Luck put the icing on the cake today, really.

I believe he's found, and read, this online journal. No, not J. I'm referring to the guy who's been sweeping me off my feet these past few months, and now, I assume, thinks he's a replacement.

Its such a fugly word. 'Cos I've been there and done that, and it isn't necessarily the nicest position to be in. And if he really really thinks this way (it could be just my own paranoia), I'm gonna say this:

YOU ARE DEFINITELY, CERTAINLY, SURELY, TO-THE-HEAVENS-ABOVE NOT A REPLACEMENT. NOT A SUBSTITUTE.

I met J a year earlier. Naturally I liked him earlier. But it doesn't mean I like him better. 'Cos you made me see past things, you made me realise that I've really been wasting my time and effort, and that I should have listened to my close friends a long time ago when they said I shouldn't be so hung up on J.

You are one of the reasons why I started coming to Church regularly. Not that God isn't a major factor. But to see you every Church day makes me smile. It completes my entire Saturday.

SO, BOY, YOU ARE NOT A REPLACEMENT. I WOULD STAND ION ORCHARD'S ROOFTOP TO SHOUT "(INSERT YOUR NAME HERE) IS NOT A REPLACEMENT" IF THAT'S WHAT IT TAKES TO CONVINCE YOU.

Advantage in writing this post: If he really reads my LJ and thinks he's a replacement, this post would help convey the message.

Disadvantage in writing this post: If he really reads my LJ and was referring to something else, not the contents of my online journal, then I've made myself look like a fool. And if he's never come across my LJ before, then all is well.

Then again, there's really nothing wrong in being the clown once in a while.




OK I'M GONNA DO AN ECONS CASE STUDY NOW.

Lifehouse should continue writing Christian music. They started out as a Christian band, and their first major label debut album contained some Christian tracks as well... but with subsequent albums the songs seemed to have been reduced to romance between a man and a woman. No more the intangible, immortal and unending love between God and a believer.

If anything, the kind of love that's most beautiful and heart-wrenching is one that never fails, sees you through the toughest times and is everlasting. Never flickers, never dies. It seems that the only source of this kind of love, apart from God, is from your parents. I think the preciousness of it all comes from the bond associated with this kinda love.

The bond that's sealed with blood; with eternity.

Few minutes ago I chanced upon a stranger's livejournal (http://travellight.livejournal.com). She used to be from the Navy. So I read, unexpecting, and her posts were actually documenting her stepbrother's slow demise. I could sense a sort of fury, or frustration within her, and then resignation when her brother finally passed away.

Imagine. The gnawing ache you would have if you were to lose someone close to you the next minute, and then one day have to write on your online diary/ tell someone that "He/She met his maker today. But, at least, he's/she's able to breathe freely without pain".

Perhaps death should be associated with liberation. The peeling away of the outer human core to liberate the soul within. The re-uniting with God. Maybe humans shouldn't fear death so much after all. The pain is transient, then one is truly free. I'm not saying I want to die pre-maturely or anything. But when my time is up and Lord is calling me home, I'd gladly go back into His open arms.

Go have a read at her journal. Posts dated 10/30/09, 1.52pm, and 11/3/09 in particular.

Tonight I've come to my online journal with nothing much to write. Its been an alright-ish week I guess, and I'm still dreaming about the days when I can finally go shopping till I drop, colour my hair and do all sorts of zany things that I wouldn't usually do.

On a lighter note, I did fulfill my objective of writing a kickass essay (refer to post below this). I'm splendidly proud of it. Think it was one of the clearest, most down-to-earth essays I've ever written.

And I love Ting and she loves me too. COUZIN BOND.

I will write about more flowery abstract things soon once the inspiration juice starts flowing.

Yo Cambridge,

I really respect you and Imma let you finish marking, but I got one of the best General Paper essay scripts of all time. One of the best scripts of all time!


This, my friends, is how it's gonna go down tomorrow.



 

4am, and I'm still awake. Reminds me of Lost Prophets' song 4am Forever, which coincidentally happens to be the time now, as well as my cousin's alarm clock.

National exams start in approximately 2 days time which isn't much time left to do revision, and frankly I don't feel a sense of absolute preparedness but I'm going to go out there and do it. Somehow I'm afraid of my courage, because usually I'm not one to have the winner mindset. But thinking of how, in the past week, people close to me have been giving me the thumbs up and a hearty grin, declaring that I 'can make it', I cannot bear the thought of letting them down.

I want to visualise their faces full of elation, patting me on the back and telling me that they are happy for me when I tell them of my results. I want to give something back to my parents, who have sheltered me comfortably throughout life. I want to break free of the repeated histories of getting less-than-satisfactory results at past national examinations. The point here is I don't have to get cream-of-the-crop grades. Simply grades that I feel satisfied with.

Time to get down and dirty for the final two days! 'Cause after the examinations it'll be fun-filled party times with freshly-coloured hair, lots of past 12am's, margaritas and 100% squeezed, fully saturated mirth.

On a fangirl note, Ian Watkins is one fine piece of ass.

I swear, if my future boyfriend/ spouse croons the ever-so-addictive Jay Sean song 'Down' to me, albeit slightly off key (I presume), I will melt into a puddle of love and contentment.

So baby don't worry
You'll my only
You won't be lonely
Even if the sky is falling down
You'll be my only
No need to worry

Not to mention Jay Sean and Chicken Little have their minds pre-occupied with the notion of the sky falling down, thereby making them very compatible for friendship, and in my own terms, Chicken Little= Cute= Jay Sean's homie= Jay Sean is cute.

It doesn't quite make sense.

But I like it.

National exams start next Tuesday, so I'm keeping my fingers, toes and eyes crossed that it will be a breeze, of course, by the grace of God.

Steph are you down down down down down?

Aiya. Set lah. Set lah.

I would have written my usual artsy flowery post if my head didn't hurt this bad. I think its pretty much attributed to the stomach upsets I had earlier. The Ayam Rendang at Ivin's did it, I tell ya. Thick bright orange curry that tasted immensely good on Saturday but decided to inflict me with this pain today. Gastronomical warfare...?

This day did not go well. Particularly when my math teacher had personally called my house to ask how my revision was coming along, and demanded an explanation of why I only scored a D in TJ's 2009 Prelim Paper One when it was 'so easy'. I think people put too much faith in me. They pin too high hopes on me. I seem to give people the impression that I'm superbly, remarkably intelligent, a born Raffles girl who somehow never quite got there. Then they'd flippantly brush it off and say, "Nah, she was too lazy, that's why she didn't get into a good school".

Did they ever pause to think that under this seemingly eloquent, quick-witted exterior, perhaps I'm rather different? A Stephanie that changes with the tides and the seasons, a girl who once strived to be part of the elite crowd to the point it consumed her, but now couldn't really care less? And most importantly, a girl who is beginning to realise gratifying things in life go beyond outstanding grades and merits.

Love. Inner peace. Spontaneity. Intangible things that can cure the human soul.

I'd love to continue but my head feels like its been slugged by a baseball bat. Agh.

So far I have bought two dresses, a tunic top, a ring (absolutely breathtaking), and there's probably one more dress coming along the way. As such my savings account is now officially rather empty, and is gathering cobwebs. Its like a leaky bucket. Water goes in but slowly drips out. Unknowingly. That's the scariest bit.

I've also been wondering lately whether I'm cut out for studying. Ya know, like the matrix movie and such- You're living all fine and dandy in this universe, when one day you wake up to find that there's another alternate universe and that is your reality. I don't wanna wake up to find myself in an alternate reality, that perhaps after all, I was cut out to be some struggling artist/ writer roaming the streets of Paris, staring longingly, on a daily basis, at the fresh French pastries in shop windows which my empty wallet cannot buy.

With the A Level examinations about 2 weeks away, it's really swell to be thinking about all these.

On a random note, I found myself staring at a blogshop catering to guys today and thinking, "If I had a guy, I'd buy him something nice".

AREN'T I THE PERFECT CANDIDATE FOR GIRLFRIENDOM.

You flatter yourself, Steph. (Waves baguette in the air unassumingly)