A Squid Ate My Towel
I've got a bit of a headache at the moment, which I blame partly on lack of sleep and partly on my late meals the past couple of days.
Considering I've been a most dilatory blogger in the past few weeks, I suppose I should provide an overall account of what's been happening ever since that day, let's see... ack, 13 days ago. I at least have a good idea of the past 5 days, which leaves 8 days of somewhat blurry memory, though I remember at least 5 of those days, which leaves 3 of uncertainty, unless I'm wrong and I do remember them after all.
Well then, let's start from the time after making that list... if it was 13 days ago, then it was the first of several days of procrastination. You see, I haven't got a room in the University due to a bunch of reasons, foremost being a system that gives priority to pretty much every year except mine, and even then discriminates within my year itself. I'll be very enthusiastic about the triple-room arrangement if it were to be suggested again, take my word for it.
In any case I somehow got the idea that the hostel would be perfectly fine with me moving out late, so I procrastinated throwing stuff out, or rather I loosened the schedule hugely to accomodate minimal effort, and as a result it took me two days to finish throwing away all the plastic bags, papers, and useless items I've somehow accumulated; useless items, in this case, including instant pasta sauce and some sort of instant-soup thing, along with a bunch of pens that I was keeping for some reason despite them not having any ink inside; on the night of the second day of procrastination (the 14th), I began putting things into paper bags and boxes; the boxes were Milo ones that I and Darth Bo got for free from a mall. I kept feeling like a walking Milo advertisement, but then I figured if they were gonna give away boxes for free then they deserved a little bit of plugging, right?
Turned out that the hostel was fine, but they simply charged me for late check-out, and this after I'd spent a whole day getting sweaty and moving boxes too... I must say, I'm glad Darth Bo was satisfied with the small-looking Milo boxes, because even those managed to leave my arms aching for a day when stuffed with my goods.
The first day I moved things from my Block 18 room over a 5-minute distance up and down flights of stairs and over a small field to Block 22; the next day, I helped Darth Bo move his stuff--the man has 7 years' worth of accumulated stuff, outstripping my own pack-rat abilities by far--but we had a car to help a little between his old and his new rooms; and the third day, I moved my own stuff to Darth Bo's room. Very tiring days, those; and by the day we'd finished moving, let me see, it was... Friday or Saturday. Friday, I think it was.
Well, that's how matters have been for awhile; I'm currently living out of an assortment of bags and boxes, and I'm only online because Darth Bo has gone away with his visiting parents for the time being and so the LAN port in the room that's supposed to be for his use is being temporarily usurped by yours truly. I'm also sleeping on the floor, which is surprisingly much more comfortable than it sounds, although my own parents are twittering in worry for the damp and the cold.
The past five days, on the other hand...
I'm in the Campus Crusade of the University, which (amongst its other activities) organises its members into small Bible study groups, although it doesn't quite call them that, and the groups aren't just for Bible studies. Darth Bo, who's been my Bible Study group leader (equivalent) for the past academic year, challenged me to become a leader myself this year. For such persons, there is a training conference that basically tells us how such a group should be formed, should work, etc. So I went for it, which was Monday and Tuesday, and I met a bunch of people whose existence heretofore had been a complete unknown to me. The ones I met were quite nice characters, however, even if I did feel a bit left out sometimes when it seemed that everybody already knew everybody else apart from me; something like Invisible Man Syndrome again. Still, at least they know my existence now, I think. Or at least my face and name.
I had a rather strange dream on Monday night, though really all my dreams are strange since I rarely remember them... They're also usually morbid in a weird way that doesn't make sense to waking people. In my dream, I was swimming at extremely deep depths, yet I was without any sort of breathing apparatus whatsoever and apparently didn't need to breathe, and there was no sensation of being crushed. In fact I was just drifting about in the water, and then I found myself surrounded in manta rays and sharks that literally came from nowhere; they were just suddenly there. I remember feeling quite amazingly calm about it until a manta swam up to me and smiled. With teeth.
The next thing I remember is a bunch of cartoonish squid monsters coming out, all of them with gaping mouths and sharp teeth--and I remember them clearly enough that I can draw them and that I now know such beings couldn't possibly exist in our oceans--but in my dream I backed off very quickly, trying not to turn my back while trying to look behind to see if there was anything behind me. And then suddenly I was walking along a swimming-pool's tiled floor, on those little drains that surround the pool area, and there was just one squid there. I was clutching a towel, and then suddenly the squid shot its tongue out and, frog-like, latched onto and swallowed the towel.
The tongue shot out again, trying to grab the hand that had been holding the towel, but I shook it off and got away through a door. The next thing I remember after that is walking back through that door and peering into an empty kitchen sink where a little plug was out of a hole and water was draining out... and for some reason seeing that empty kitchen sink was a signal that the monsters were gone. I woke up then.
Darth Bo, who was sleeping beside me, reports that I twitched, knocked his pillow away, and then proceeded to flail at him.
Wednesday to Friday were the truly exhausting parts: the Freshmen Orientation Camp. Now Darth Bo happens to be very, very involved in the Crusade, and he happened to oversee all the administration details for this camp. The next thing I knew, I got a phone call to ask if I'd please lead one of the small teams of the camp? I said no, my leadership skills are practically nonexistent. Upon which I was made into an assistant team leader instead.
I'm not complaining about it, mind you... or at least, not complaining very much. It was a fun time, and I wouldn't mind terribly if asked to do it again. It's just that I'm not at all a boundless font of energy and joy, and usually when people come to camps, they don't expect to be in a team where the assistant leader is a drooping, sleepy-eyed weakling who has to be violently woken in the morning or not woken at all. For the first day, they weren't around to see me wake, though; so what they encountered was the coffee-enhanced version of myself, which means I chattered and bounced and played the merry tourist guide to the University.
By night-time I was already back to my normal self, which means very heavy blinking--a tic that always affects me whenever I haven't been sleeping enough hours--and pretty much leaving the conversations to the freshmen and the leader herself, which I think was a good thing since when I'm on caffeine, I tend to be maybe a little too loud for everybody's good.
Camp was good overall, though; I liked the singing and it turns out some of the freshies are really quite talented in that area. The workshops and mini-sermons were good too, they chose some quite educated men fortunately so I didn't have to filter the speeches for inaccuracies or whatever. Arguably though, the last night was nicest since by then I was somewhat familiar with most of the people there and it rained and the whole camp went out to a nearby hawker centre for supper, after which the whole camp went back and started playing card games and other lame games and chitchatting and playing guitar into the wee hours.
I don't think anybody got more than 2 hours' sleep that night; I certainly didn't, because I was playing Polar Bear and Camp and Citadel and running on caffeine again. Darn Pepsi! But I paid for it yesterday when I collapsed at 11am and didn't wake again until 6pm... and then stayed up to 5am and woke this morning at 12pm. I'm still readjusting.
The second intake for the hostel was yesterday or this morning; I didn't make it again since the available vacancies are few and the hall filled those up with people who'd participated in hall-sponsored events (sports, chess competitions, etc). Pragmatic of them, of course, but it's inconvenient for me again.
Considering I've been a most dilatory blogger in the past few weeks, I suppose I should provide an overall account of what's been happening ever since that day, let's see... ack, 13 days ago. I at least have a good idea of the past 5 days, which leaves 8 days of somewhat blurry memory, though I remember at least 5 of those days, which leaves 3 of uncertainty, unless I'm wrong and I do remember them after all.
Well then, let's start from the time after making that list... if it was 13 days ago, then it was the first of several days of procrastination. You see, I haven't got a room in the University due to a bunch of reasons, foremost being a system that gives priority to pretty much every year except mine, and even then discriminates within my year itself. I'll be very enthusiastic about the triple-room arrangement if it were to be suggested again, take my word for it.
In any case I somehow got the idea that the hostel would be perfectly fine with me moving out late, so I procrastinated throwing stuff out, or rather I loosened the schedule hugely to accomodate minimal effort, and as a result it took me two days to finish throwing away all the plastic bags, papers, and useless items I've somehow accumulated; useless items, in this case, including instant pasta sauce and some sort of instant-soup thing, along with a bunch of pens that I was keeping for some reason despite them not having any ink inside; on the night of the second day of procrastination (the 14th), I began putting things into paper bags and boxes; the boxes were Milo ones that I and Darth Bo got for free from a mall. I kept feeling like a walking Milo advertisement, but then I figured if they were gonna give away boxes for free then they deserved a little bit of plugging, right?
Turned out that the hostel was fine, but they simply charged me for late check-out, and this after I'd spent a whole day getting sweaty and moving boxes too... I must say, I'm glad Darth Bo was satisfied with the small-looking Milo boxes, because even those managed to leave my arms aching for a day when stuffed with my goods.
The first day I moved things from my Block 18 room over a 5-minute distance up and down flights of stairs and over a small field to Block 22; the next day, I helped Darth Bo move his stuff--the man has 7 years' worth of accumulated stuff, outstripping my own pack-rat abilities by far--but we had a car to help a little between his old and his new rooms; and the third day, I moved my own stuff to Darth Bo's room. Very tiring days, those; and by the day we'd finished moving, let me see, it was... Friday or Saturday. Friday, I think it was.
Well, that's how matters have been for awhile; I'm currently living out of an assortment of bags and boxes, and I'm only online because Darth Bo has gone away with his visiting parents for the time being and so the LAN port in the room that's supposed to be for his use is being temporarily usurped by yours truly. I'm also sleeping on the floor, which is surprisingly much more comfortable than it sounds, although my own parents are twittering in worry for the damp and the cold.
The past five days, on the other hand...
I'm in the Campus Crusade of the University, which (amongst its other activities) organises its members into small Bible study groups, although it doesn't quite call them that, and the groups aren't just for Bible studies. Darth Bo, who's been my Bible Study group leader (equivalent) for the past academic year, challenged me to become a leader myself this year. For such persons, there is a training conference that basically tells us how such a group should be formed, should work, etc. So I went for it, which was Monday and Tuesday, and I met a bunch of people whose existence heretofore had been a complete unknown to me. The ones I met were quite nice characters, however, even if I did feel a bit left out sometimes when it seemed that everybody already knew everybody else apart from me; something like Invisible Man Syndrome again. Still, at least they know my existence now, I think. Or at least my face and name.
I had a rather strange dream on Monday night, though really all my dreams are strange since I rarely remember them... They're also usually morbid in a weird way that doesn't make sense to waking people. In my dream, I was swimming at extremely deep depths, yet I was without any sort of breathing apparatus whatsoever and apparently didn't need to breathe, and there was no sensation of being crushed. In fact I was just drifting about in the water, and then I found myself surrounded in manta rays and sharks that literally came from nowhere; they were just suddenly there. I remember feeling quite amazingly calm about it until a manta swam up to me and smiled. With teeth.
The next thing I remember is a bunch of cartoonish squid monsters coming out, all of them with gaping mouths and sharp teeth--and I remember them clearly enough that I can draw them and that I now know such beings couldn't possibly exist in our oceans--but in my dream I backed off very quickly, trying not to turn my back while trying to look behind to see if there was anything behind me. And then suddenly I was walking along a swimming-pool's tiled floor, on those little drains that surround the pool area, and there was just one squid there. I was clutching a towel, and then suddenly the squid shot its tongue out and, frog-like, latched onto and swallowed the towel.
The tongue shot out again, trying to grab the hand that had been holding the towel, but I shook it off and got away through a door. The next thing I remember after that is walking back through that door and peering into an empty kitchen sink where a little plug was out of a hole and water was draining out... and for some reason seeing that empty kitchen sink was a signal that the monsters were gone. I woke up then.
Darth Bo, who was sleeping beside me, reports that I twitched, knocked his pillow away, and then proceeded to flail at him.
Wednesday to Friday were the truly exhausting parts: the Freshmen Orientation Camp. Now Darth Bo happens to be very, very involved in the Crusade, and he happened to oversee all the administration details for this camp. The next thing I knew, I got a phone call to ask if I'd please lead one of the small teams of the camp? I said no, my leadership skills are practically nonexistent. Upon which I was made into an assistant team leader instead.
I'm not complaining about it, mind you... or at least, not complaining very much. It was a fun time, and I wouldn't mind terribly if asked to do it again. It's just that I'm not at all a boundless font of energy and joy, and usually when people come to camps, they don't expect to be in a team where the assistant leader is a drooping, sleepy-eyed weakling who has to be violently woken in the morning or not woken at all. For the first day, they weren't around to see me wake, though; so what they encountered was the coffee-enhanced version of myself, which means I chattered and bounced and played the merry tourist guide to the University.
By night-time I was already back to my normal self, which means very heavy blinking--a tic that always affects me whenever I haven't been sleeping enough hours--and pretty much leaving the conversations to the freshmen and the leader herself, which I think was a good thing since when I'm on caffeine, I tend to be maybe a little too loud for everybody's good.
Camp was good overall, though; I liked the singing and it turns out some of the freshies are really quite talented in that area. The workshops and mini-sermons were good too, they chose some quite educated men fortunately so I didn't have to filter the speeches for inaccuracies or whatever. Arguably though, the last night was nicest since by then I was somewhat familiar with most of the people there and it rained and the whole camp went out to a nearby hawker centre for supper, after which the whole camp went back and started playing card games and other lame games and chitchatting and playing guitar into the wee hours.
I don't think anybody got more than 2 hours' sleep that night; I certainly didn't, because I was playing Polar Bear and Camp and Citadel and running on caffeine again. Darn Pepsi! But I paid for it yesterday when I collapsed at 11am and didn't wake again until 6pm... and then stayed up to 5am and woke this morning at 12pm. I'm still readjusting.
The second intake for the hostel was yesterday or this morning; I didn't make it again since the available vacancies are few and the hall filled those up with people who'd participated in hall-sponsored events (sports, chess competitions, etc). Pragmatic of them, of course, but it's inconvenient for me again.
Comments