I want to sing.

But I don't dare.

Welcome to the rest of your life.

It will not suffice to simply say that I am having a blast at Law school. As usual, I enjoy complicating things. It's been quite the ride and I expect that this has everything to do with the fact that I'm being completely washed over by a social arena that is both alien and intense.

In short, I don't know what to make of everything.

I've been enjoying the classes. I feel engaged, and for the first time, am not fighting with the otherwise standard curriculum to breathe some life into what I'm learning. Although, I do miss the days when finding some meaning in my cut and dry courses amounted to a cheap thrill (come on, the relationship between the church and the nuclear bomb, that's got to be a keeper).

But then there's everything else outside of class and, I can't say that I'm too thrill with what I... see. I just get this over-arching sense that not only am I here to be given legal training, but I am also here to become molded, suited and fitted - for this industry. Maybe it's my third-culturism or a fear of expectation (there is a certain degree to security in difference), but I simply cannot stand the idea of social conformity.

So here I am, in a sea of relatively homogenous people with generally homogenous life directions. And then there's me - who, in some wrapped moment of logic, decided that engaging myself in a locale-specific industry was the best way to get back to Southeast Asia.

The diversity quotient has dipped, and with that, I think I find myself alone, as far as Law school in concerned, in my life goals. I know who I am, what I want to do, who I want to be and most importantly, who is with me on this. And I just don't think that the Law school ethic gels with that. Its quite uncomfortable.

But then there's the legal buddy, who likened the legal corporate identity to just one more ornament on the Christmas tree of me. But really, what does this have to do with me? Who takes off her shoes during an interview and gets hired anyway?

Once again, I am Hannah.

With my days packed to the point of ridiculousness, I ache to live and when I finally do, I don't know what to do with all the intensity that is me.

I am loving this.

But I really want to go home.

WOOHOO!

So back in van. and it's a lot better then anticipated. Law school is fun. I moved out of the place that I had previously found. Found a better cheaper place. God is good God is good God is good.

I pray for good relationships.

To do well in law school
To be financially sufficient
To learn discipline
To cut down on my junk!

Ok!

I have never felt this way before. For the first time in over four years, I loathe the thought of leaving Singapore. I have gotten too comfortable, too soft here. But instead of looking forward to another three grueling years of lofty ambition and invigorating research, I wish I had a 9-5 job, a nondescript pay-cheque, and the weekends to spend with Belmont. There is so much comfort in this simplicity. Surrounded by family, all are family.

Life here is beautiful. So beautiful, I am almost wishing away my ambition.

You'd be bored by tomorrow lah if you stayed.
~ The Boyfriend, who knows me too well.

I know your promises Lord, but forgive me for asking: Please let this be worth it.

This is, by far, the funniest thing I've seen all year.



~ Fukung.net

What has God been saying to me lately?

One thing, over and over again: Don't worry. I will provide.

Everything to date has been nothing short of a blessing.

There is really nothing to fear.

I am blessed and loved.

But I realise that I need to learn to keep secrets.

And I don't like that.

Instead of going to the meeting, I ended up doing some banking errands for the boss. And on the way back (and it was a delicious day! Very hot and very bright in the older (and hence, deeper) section of singapore where the buildings are bright, the drains uncovered and the men squat on the floor if not driving their lorries) I discovered an interesting insect resting on the back of my hand. It was black, with six legs and a body which tapered off into a tail. It looked like a miniature scorpion.

Needless to say, as I am, I was excited. I kept him for a while and walked with my right arm outstretched to keep an eye on him. It was a beautiful day. I named him Maxwell, after the building I was headed for. A silent (one-sided) conversation was ensuing between us as I detoured to the Red Dot Design Museum and had a *perfect* moment as my eye caught a stream of sunlight beaming through the pillars of the heritage building.

Then the inevitable happened. I figured that this contrived relationship between Maxwell and I was cute at best, and if not, a waste of time, a ridiculous notion and a childish fantasy. What was I going to say to Boss when I show up with a bug on my hand? Hi! Meet Maxwell! Isn't he the best?

I blew him off the back of my hand. He struggled to keep footing for a while but when it's over, it's over.

Funny how things happen eh?

The disconnected generation - finding meaning the the lyrics of pop songs. NO CULTURE!
~Boss, in response to my passionate homily on U2 and the spiritual significance they have had on my life.

My stumped expression must have had come across as indignant and he immediately followed his tirade with the mercy of granting the 'pop' phenomenon the status of a culture in itself.

Not that I cared. I was too busy being flustered about the inherent rightness of his statement. Here I am, trying so hard to be Chinese, to be who I ought to be, the the people who speak most to me are a bunch of Irish men in bling.

And as I fret, the most important lesson that I have learnt here rises to mind: some things just are.

And there's no need to justify and explain yourself, just be.

Sometimes, MCQs are the way to go.