Realisations

I don't know if it's just me, but I've always thought the Indy sometimes had a strange way of reporting things... for example,
Steve Irwin's tragic death.

His death (very sad, by the way) was described by the Guardian yesterday as the equivalent of Australia's 'Diana'... and typically, in a report about someone's death, especially an international figure like Steve Irwin (whether people found him irritating, or not) would definitely include a quote about how sad and tragic it is, (especially when it is tragic), and how mournful the general mood is.

But no. In this Indy article, there was absolutely no pervasive mood of mourning or regret... they even used this quote from Irwin's friend and producer who said:

"He died doing what he loves best and left this world in a happy and peaceful state of mind," he said. "Crocs Rule!"

Crocs Rule!??! You watched your friend die in front of you in a freak accident and all you can say is 'Crocs Rule?!!!'

Understandably, he might have been trying to remain cheerful... but in the context of how the whole story was written, I think it was a highly unbalanced and probably down to bad sub-editing of the original AP story.

I just feel sad, generally. For his wife and young kids, especially. The boys were making fun of his death yesterday, there was apparently an email circulating about a mock BBC report making comedy out of Irwin's death by stingray. The girls were saying it was far too soon to be laughing about someone who just died, but the boys replied 'it's already been 48 hours!'

Boys and their 'humour as defence mechanism'. We were truly disgusted.

***

I've finally finished my dissertation! It was one helluva' nightmare and I did another infamous J-style all-nighter again, barely slept two hours that fateful night, was still writing my conclusion on the train down to London.. and even on the bloody tube from Baker Street to Canada Water to get my connection.

How incorrigible am I.

My dissertation was half an hour late but they didn't seem to make a fuss so presumably it was all good. I think the first half of my thesis was brilliant, and the second half, I have only myself to blame for the drop in quality. On the bright side, I definitely have passed my Masters anyway... so Yay! I am now a fully qualified, post-graduate student! Wait. I was a post-grad student... what do you call a post post-grad student???

***

Celebrated in style in the weekend... went to a legendary Wise Terrace party, got really wasted and didn't sleep the whole night through. J and I danced from 11pm till 9am and it was so beautiful. The night was a happy blur and I vaguely remember dominating the dance floor in a rather embarrassing fashion... thank God the camera was in my bag and no one took photographic evidence of my antics, although I really don't think it was that bad. I took as many photos as I could in my inebriated state... and felt really sad, thinking that this is probably the last blow-out J and I will ever have of this scale. I thought about the few months we lived in that house, all the memories and how time truly eludes you the moment you think you have it truly in your grasp.

J and I slept from 1830hours to 0830hours the next day... how's that for a sleep-a-thon!

It's now definitely countdown time for us... we sat down and drew up a massive plan for our remaining weeks and it suddenly became all too scary. Accommodation, flights, bookings, seeing people, packing, sorting.... arghhhh!

I heard a podcast the other day and heard the infamous Singlish accent in its fullblown glory for the first time in awhile (other forms of Singlish I'd recently heard were diluted forms) and for some reason, my goosebumps immediately rose and I cringed. Not that I have anything against it... but I can only take mild forms of it ever since I left four years ago. Like bitter medicine. In small doses. Full blown Singlish accents seem to incite an internal allergic reaction. Like an unseen rash. Very scratchy, want to get rid of it, but really can't.

How on earth am I going to cope come October, I don't know. Maybe if I focus on speaking to J all the time, I'll be fine. Or maybe I should embrace it. Either way, every cloud has a silver lining... at least I'll be able to feast on all the yummy food I've been craving for all these years.