I have two sabbats:
#1. Food Chemistry
#2. Chinese Lyrics Writing

If you weighed the pros & cons, my sabbats (although they are the two most-wanted) ain't much different from yours. They're equally boring with bone-dry lectures included in the package of "fun", but what matters is whether you can twist it and get out of that slackish shell to enjoy the last week of school.
Chinese lyrics writing is FUN mannn! <3
Especially when you have deskmates full of crap like: Eunice, Yuanmei & Jermaine. I shall save the best for the last, which was the lyrics that we racked our brain to come up with. For a person who can't speak / write Chinese Characters to save myself, I count on the super smart Eunice for words that rhyme and Yuanmei for the crazy ideas she can so easily craft. Tragically, the act pro instructor who can't sing or play the guitar remembers my name. Every lesson he would yell at me to shoot out his verbal threatening - me sitting at the front, alone. I would shut up, for I love the company of my loved ones.

We're supposed to write out lyrics based on a picture, first think of a title then pen out your lyrics. As it turned out, Eunice & I were gossiping while laughing with Yuanmei about our simply horrendous and riduiculous lyrics.

Alright, drumrolllllls people, here's our lyrics. I give you the not-so stomach tumbling one first.
Ladies & Gentlemen, I present to you - 求婚。

雨啪嗒啪嗒地掉落下来
你对我表达你的爱
你说，嫁给我吧
可你的最爱还是你妈

你的戒指又老又土
你还叫我洗衣服？！
我不要变成黄脸婆
每天替你脚按摩！

If you want to sing it along with the tune of Happy Birthday, here's the exact lyrics. The first four lines is one happybirthday, and the next four is another happybirthday.

雨啪嗒地掉下来
你对我表达你的爱
你说，嫁给我吧
可你最爱你妈

你戒指又老又土
你还叫我洗衣服？！
我不要变成黄脸婆
每天替你按摩！

歌词：Eunice, Yuanmei, Jermaine & Bernice.

Now, Ladies & Gentlemen, Boys & Girls, I proudly bring to you -


歌词：Yuanmei, Eunice, Bernice.

A round of applause for these wonderful lyricist, thankyouthankyouthankyou!

-xx-

Today I watched my eleven year old brother sling his Hush Puppies bag across his shoulder carelessly, not noticing how he carried himself. I pointed out to him that he slung it the wrong way, the back facing out - a hideous sight. He shrugged off my criticism and ran to the car, going to his piano lesson, with long socks and shirt tucked in.
His alleviating disregard to the fact that he was uncool stilled me, and then a surge of envy overpowered every vessel in my body. He does not bother about the necessities he must carry out to have I'm Cool tattooed onto his forehead, as compared to the countless efforts of every other kid in the world who's searching desperately for the stamp of being noticed etched onto his heart, to sooth it with so much as a flicker of glance from the King of the Gang upon his direction.
It makes me think, have you guys ever paused to ponder, why we fold our socks to enable the visibility of our ankles; the lowering of our strapped backpacks; or the language we're supposed to use to show off our credibility... Is it for recognition, or is it to deceive ourselves, to make us believe that we're being recognised?

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