Suddenly, when my Econs tutor was using my Kooshball as an example of a good (since so many examples are needed), I remembered this horrible Biotechnology workshop I was forced by my mum to attend in mid-Sec. 3, and Clara tossing my green-and-purple Kooshball around the Physics lab resulting in the teacher-in-charge being all sniffy about our disrespect. I don't remember anything else, particularly not what we learnt, except colourful DNA diagrams. Because Clara was fiddling with my now orange-and-pink Koosh at the Mentorship Tea (which was lots more fun than I expected until the monologue started), when we realized we were both under Ms. Ho. But it required, I dunno, a whole string of repeat telecasts before the coincidences clicked. Secondary school life seems an embarrassingly long time ago, like it's necessary to distance myself from it when ohhhh so older and wiser. Perhaps that is the answer, Mr. Gaarder, to why adults bury themselves in the rabbit's fur, because they feel secure and superior.
Friday night was a riot, when I caroused around with Han and her friends, who are extremely fun and sweet girls (yay NJ! Down snotty stereotypes!). We played weird hand games, stormed through Botanic Gardens in the dark, me wielding an umbrella as the only weapon, made a prank call and apologized afterwards ("I've seen you in the canteen" *high-pitched giggle*) and discussed GP questions. ("If a girl goes jogging in skimpy clothes at 3am in the morning and gets raped, is it her fault?" "If a couple who are both deaf want to have a test-tube baby who is deaf as well, is that ethical?")
Sunday morning was another question of ethics, and we can all argue about Harry Potter and Ho Yeow Sun until they are, or are not, struck down by thunderbolts. And if you ask me about the latter, all I can say is, she's very stupid for a pastor (if she is one).