i think i scared the shit out of him, because he definitely sounded like it when he asked me again, but i really didn't know what else to do.






i know he meant well, i could see it in his eyes, i know, cause i heard it in his voice, and i could imagine how they must have looked,
it's quite uncivil, but i guess....
i don't think i could have helped it even if i tried.
never mind it.



i'm really glad the camp is over.
that some frustrating things could be resolved, that in general things went kind of okay and that we all hung on despite the lethargy and the muscle aches and ecetra and pulled through together.


the open training was fantastic; and it was wonderful to be able to keiko with suresh and joyce, though i wish i could have been stronger....
and sensei came :) and it was so wonderful and there were so wonderful sensei moments!
and my heart totally just melted when he asked,
'so how are you, miss president?'
and i kind of squirmed inside and blabbered all my responses and my brain felt like jelly and i couldn't think properly but he was listening to me so earnestly, and when he said,
'ah, okay la, forgiven.'
i kind of just sank down into my seat half out of relief and gladness and half out of thankfulness and undescribable grattitude.

i think halfway i kind of freaked out through camp with the venue problems that occurred even with such early planning; and delays and stuff, and disorganised-ness of things crashing in, and it kind of peaked along with the mistakes and inability i was plagued with during training as well as the sms that told me to 'reflect on my commitment towards cxxxxxy' but i'm really just relieved that i did the right thing and i really just kind of focused on training itself and nothing else.

i guess it can't be helped that i might be pulled out of chingay dance cause the practices seem to clash a lot with trainings. i won't deny that at this current point of time kendo is definitely my first priority and i won't be apolegetic that other things will have to take a back seat for this period of time. it's a pity but it's too bad; sometimes its almost like i can hear my father's voice in my ear, saying those familar words;

i know i dabble in too many arts, have too many flirtations, but these things are so wonderful and fantastic to me; i can't imagine not training, can't imagine not being able to go back to choir after missing it for so long, and dance, yes dance, the feeling of dance....





i think i'll take a nice long shower and sleep and wake up and maybe then my brain will be working well enough for me to conjure up an interesting blog post.

cause nobody likes to read about other people whining about their miserable sod life or emoing about how useless they are and how they should just curl up and die, right?