Basket.

Will soon be returning to once more to face the 8th FATA Trade Course (odd name, isn't it), narrow foam mattresses that literally cave in when I lie down and the wonderful trickling showers of Khatib Camp. Living at home is a privilege nowadays. At least we have sympathy from those fortunate enough to escape simply because of a one-letter difference in chromosomes.

Reading the class blog archives induced me to trawl the archives of various other weblogs I know of - to compare how people were feeling at equivalent points of the past. And it was an interesting journey. We all have common experiences, but it is quite amazing how different we can be in dealing with them. Everyone is unique, with their own sets of problems, issues, likes and dislikes, idiosyncracies, perceptions, writing styles et al. Call it my inner sociologist at work, but I do like to observe individual traits and find it intriguing that nobody's one way of handling a common event, a common problem, is exactly alike.

I also read plenty of meaningful things we said over the past two years - like how the chance of this particular bunch of people coming together as a class was infinitesimal. But it happened, and we managed to bond so well and learn to treasure each other. Now I miss them more than ever. There is not a bunch of people on the face of this earth I would rather be with than A01C 2003-2004.

"Every one of you matters to me. And any unpleasantries or misunderstandings we might have had... I hope we can forget them. I just want to help if I can." -Shuang Ning, July 2003

I think that's the quote that best sums it up. Stay in firm contact.

http://img99.imageshack.us/gal.php?g=10ym.jpg&cols=4

http://www-users.cs.york.ac.uk/~susan/sf/eyeargon/eyeargon.htm

Priceless works of literature. I haven't seen writing so incredibly bad in a long, long time. Oh god that was funny.

3-day weekend. It's been wonderful.

The class blog, dormant for so long, has been revived. With a lovely picture to stir the memories, too.

I wondered, at the end of 2003, whether the coming year would be able to beat it in terms of excitement, high drama and sheer fun. My inclination was that it would not be, because most of it would be concentrated on preparing for the A-levels.

I've never been more glad to be wrong. Despite a strangely subdued beginning, 2004 was 2003 and more. Much more.

I'll always remember it, personally, as a year of struggle. When I grappled with various difficulties in the academic sphere, my CCA and worst of all, my personal life - all aspects of it. When I would come home dead tired from an entire day of lessons and CCA, with demanding piles of work to complete, and have my seemingly unsympathetic parents berate me for not putting enough effort into my work. When I was brought to the very edge at times by the seemingly unending difficulties and fears - of the A-Levels, of NS, of being able to maintain my personal relationships.

But that doesn't mean I didn't have plenty of fun last year. It may always be people that make life difficult, but it is also always people (albeit a different bunch) that make life worthwhile.

It was truly, the year that had everything. I won't see another year like it ever again.

Tommorrow is a whole new camp and a whole new life. There have just been too many beginnings lately. I'm used to just one a year, and even then, not spanking new most of the time. Sigh.

At least I won't be the lowest life-form in the SAF anymore, and will no longer receive treatment consummate with this station. Or maybe they won't make the distinction between "lowest life-form" and "second-lowest life-form".

Hopefully, too, my new job as a Field Artillery Target Acquisition Assistant (what a mouthful!) won't require many headbreaking mathematical calculations. If it does, congratulations to whoever is up there; you've succeeded in completely screwing me over once again, and probably got a good laugh out of it to boot. What I've learnt in all my years of existence is that no one has a better sense of humour than Almighty Fate. When he/she/it/they(?!) want to screw you over, they do it well and they make it funny. Very well and very funny.

But I honestly have no idea what to expect. Can't say I like marching in circles more than playing with big guns, though. So off I go to a new place, a new job and new companions. Wish me luck.

I did on occasion think, last year, that I might miss school life once everything was said and done. This was despite the endless frustrations, worries and troubles it dumped on me virtually daily, coupled with omniscient exam stress and more than my share of personal problems.

For three months I was able to avoid dwelling on this topic, except during periodic fits of insomnia. And it was definitely the last thing on my mind throughout much of last year, as I struggled with difficulties on all fronts - a lot of the time, all at once too. I know I wished plenty that it would just all end and I could live a carefree life without worries.

But now that all is said and done, I realise that I do indeed miss school life, with all its idiosyncracies, and miss it quite a bit. The odd thing is, it's only starting to bite now.

Having got my absolute freedom for a week, I found myself wishing at times I had something to do. An essay to write, maybe. Or - God Forbid - a maths assignment? I didn't dare go that far.

Not unnaturally, what I miss most has to be the companionship. To be able to go to school everyday and see familiar faces and know that (ok, most of the time at least) your friends would be there. Much of my school life, especially the past two years, it was about the only thing that kept me going. Somehow I never formed as strong a bond with my BMT section as with my JC class, even though we almost literally did everything together. Which is longer, after all? Three months or two years? And it's not like A01C never suffered together.

I realise what a wonderful classroom environment we had going. Especially during GP or Econs lessons. Plenty of wisecracks, laughter, banter, the occasional dirty joke. I don't think we learned anything much, but it certainly was good times. Definitely an experience I miss.

We still meet up fairly often, more often than most classes, I suspect, but what I really miss is being able to see everyone everyday. Swap jokes, empathise, gossip, pull silly pranks on each other or just have a serious conversation for once... with school over it seems there is less to talk about these days.

Then there are other things I miss about school. Like my CCAs, especially HISSOC. I know I complained a great deal all the times we had to stay back late and get work done (which was plenty), but now I miss those times. I now realise how memorable they were and what fun we had, even as the work frustrated us and left us utterly deadbeat. For sure, I'll always remember RMUN. Both 2003 and 2004. And so many other things too - from SS Week to even J1 interviews.

In a sense, I'll even miss homework. Those late nights spent banging out an essay (or two, or three) were, I now realise, as close as I could ever get to complete peace. Everyone else asleep and my light the only one left on the whole street - it certainly was serene. Just me, my word processor and my music.

I think I can quite sincerely say that, despite Aaron Loh's views to the contrary, despite all the incredibly tiny yet annoying daily frustrations, despite the full weight of the academic burden, despite the constant struggle against some thing(s) or another, the two years of JC were the best of my life. So far, of course.

Today I found out my posting - I've been kicked to the Artillery. A lot better than the plenty I know who are headed for SISPEC, or destined to become medics. In my opinion anyway.

What's more, I get to play with guns. Big guns. Oooh.

The Ides are past. I forgot to mention them. "Not that I loved Caesar less, but I loved Rome more..."

Spent the day lost in alternate historical fiction, which I have never officially heard of as a genre but is the best label I can tack onto the works of Harry Turtledove. It's also about the only fiction I read and take such an interest in.

Just a few more days and the good life of leisure is over. Well, enjoy it while it lasts, I suppose.

Still on block leave and still living the high life. Or as high a life as a poor little NSF could possibly lead.

Which still isn't so bad. On Sunday, I went shopping, for once. For books, though. Haven't got myself a good one in some time. I returned with three, and spent over seventy dollars. As an impoverished student, I never had that kind of cash to throw around. Then again, MRT rides didn't cost up to 2 dollars per trip back then. Now I wince everytime I tap that card.

Monday was yet more fun as we descended upon a platoon-mates house for the sole purpose of stuffing our faces. Oooh, don't I love those picnic sausages...

And then today, we had National Education. It's not like I haven't been to the Changi chapel multiple times already. Yes, I know about the Japanese invasion, the guns of Singapore (and the myth of them pointing the wrong way, to boot), the Changi murals and howwecanonlyrelyonourselvestodefendournation. Yes, I am quite appalled no one else there knew the year the British military withdrew from Singapore. Not that I was surprised at this pathetic failing.

After that it was a movie and back home. Fun week so far.

For the moment, everything is at end and I have not a worry in the world. Strange feeling.

Busy day tommorrow though, with the NUS Open House on and more than one talk and exhibition to attend concerning my UK university applications. I want some time to go out and get a new book or two but I know tertiary education is more important.

In other news, I don't think there is a time when I've been happier or more proud of myself. Both my results and my passing-out from BMT have been wonderful confidence boosters; I'll even go so far as to say the twin events have cleared away years and years of self-doubt and insecurity. They proved I could do it - something I seriously doubted when mired in academic trouble and haunted by fears of a hellish BMT last year.

I even tried to escape these fears, pushing back day by day the preparations I was supposed to have been doing and instead trying my best to have as much fun as possible.

In the end I had to face them, I did, and now I have beaten them. Somewhat surprisingly, the way I see it. Yet I'm very glad I'm through with it all and have come out in one piece.

Onward to whatever the future might hold.

Well, officially at least, it's over. But I'm supposed to have retests to do. No matter, because I'm going to cave in and finally take an MC - I knew the day I ran a 13.8s shuttle run that my feet were finally giving up on me.

After you walk 24 km with 20 kg on your back, no distance seems far anymore.

Four days until I pass out from BMT. At the end of it all I am just glad I've seen it right through to the end.

It's been three very hard, but also extremely memorable months, thanks to my wonderful section. We have truly gone through thick and thin with each other and at the end of it all, I'm left with yet another bunch of great memories. Not to mention eleven new friends and acquaintances I am confident I will keep in contact with down the years.

Isn't it always the people who make everything worthwhile?

Results day today.

And guess what?

It's been a long time since I felt this good.

No, it isn't just about the results.

This has been the best day I've had in a long, long while.

Happy times ahead of me.