It's the Return of...

Bad Sammie, bad.

Stop grinning like a loon.
How are you going to be able to deliver any emotion other than idiotic happiness if you're smiling to no end? Aaron Matthew cannot afford to have asthma attacks and Aunty Pat cannot afford to have heart attacks every time you need something depressing like that to make you cry.

Stop picking at your calluses.
Do yourself a favour: take Joshua's advice and leave your fingertips alone. Especially when you think you're calming your nerves and it's really just self-destruction.

Stop being punctual for practice.
What a waste of time. You already know no one else shows up that early anyway.

Stop adhering to proper meal times.
It'll only serve to give you gastric pains when you can't eat at designated times.

Stop being so lenient.
Better to be over-protective and safe from fear of anyone laying a scratch on your darling than to start crying and laughing hysterically when you find out Jude knocked your guitar over or when Joshua snapped a string. And remember not to believe people like Nicholson when they tell you it's fine, because he's probably just trying not to upset you by lying to you like everyone else planned to do.


I thus conclude the SIC Youth Rally of 2009 was AWESOME. X) Like everything else that is.
I'm so proud of the 09 outreach team for giving God their all. I'm equally proud of the CT and graduates, knowing how much we've had to do just to get through. It was a world apart from last year. =] And that's perfectly fine with me. Better food, perfect weather, so much less of...what you're getting now. X) Even if Dancing with the Lord was way potong. It just gets bigger and better every year. Even if everyone is getting so much tinier. And I thought I was the small one. XD
Another year. Over. 2010, here we come!

Dear Santa,

I'm not sure how good I've been on your scale and I don't know how much I deserve, but there's only one thing on my wishlist this year, and I'm sure it's not too much. If you can't deliver it to me at midnight on Christmas Eve, it'll be okay. I'd be satisfied if you could just send someone out to buy it for me. All I'm asking for is a full set of new, high quality, not caplang or ciplak guitar strings. The ones on my baby are totally warped. Shouldn't be too hard, right Santa?

And while you're at it, I'd really appreaciate a box of chocolate-centered, sugar-coated donuts from Dunkin Donuts. Fattening, I know, but hey, for the amount I've been stressing this year, I think I could use a little bingeing. Don't worry, I'll share them. But I think you of all people could do without the extra calories, Santa. You have to be able to fit into the chimneys of people who actually have chimneys.

Guitar strings and donuts. Just to drill it into your brain.

Loves,

Sammie.

with Red Eyes, what am I looking for?

I want to be in love.
I want to smile every time I think of you.
I want to feel butterflies in my stomach when you look me in the eyes.
I want to dream of you and wake up in a good mood.
I want to be able to trip over my own feet just because I'm thinking about you too much.
I want to be giddy and reckless.
I want to act like a normal love sick teenageer.
I want to giggle about you as I whisper your name to her.
I want to be asked what's wrong with me.
I want to wonder whether you like me too.
I want to want you.

But I can't.
Don't you understand?
It's killing me because I don't want to know. I want to be stupid and ask why I can't have you even though I know the answer to that. I want to be blissfully ignorant instead of being so understanding that I don't have any reason to ask questions.
Being on the other side of the other side is rewarding, but what rewards also frustrates me to no end.
It may have been scary to know how much they know and see how much they see, but it is even scarier to know like they know and see like they see.

You don't understand. You're not on the other side of the other side. I can't make you know what I know and see what I see. You won't understand. And you can't. Because I wouldn't try to let you. If one day you wake up and you do, then good for you. But not now.

I love you. Too much to want you.

i'll get those trophies one day. X) when you're gone.

It doesn't matter.
That this is the reason of all the worry, headaches and stress in my life.
That this is why my heart would cry me to sleep every night if my body weren't too exhausted to keep my awake.
That if it weren't for this I wouldn't be falling sick every school holidays.
That if it weren't for this I'd have actual holidays.
That sometimes I hate my commitment so bad I feel like just quitting and leaving and never showing my face there again.
It doesn't matter. Because I know it'll be worth it.
Not the stage glamour. Not the being able to be driven out to dinner and lunch everyday. Not the being able to get out of my house. Not the knowledge and wisdom and experience I'll gain from it.
It's the fact that they are my second family, and that this is the family God is going to use to touch hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of life repeatedly.
That's the worth of it.

Oh, Lord. I'm so tired. I just want to rest. Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Rest. But no, it will never come with the desire to do Your will.
So I'll just have to deal with it, won't I?

I found my answers to my own questions and quests.
This is scaring me.
Heck, everything is scaring me.
Like being "older". Realising. Knowing. "Seeing". "Observing". No, I don't like those words. I like "sensing". Mine. :) But I guess everyone has their way of describing it. Or at least, everyone who knows what I'm talking about does.
So elite. But you aren't elite unless you've paid the price, the cost of carrying that responsibility.
It's like truth. Terrible and beautiful at the same time.
It's like you. Terrible and beautiful at the same time.
It's like all my problems. Terrible, but when you look at it carefully, placed in such a situation that it resounds in such stunning beauty.

Bad Sammie, bad Sammie! Tsk. What were you thinking? Blogging. While you could have been editting your script, or packing, or sleeping, or eating more Tiger biscuits. Or finding a cure to the terrible pain in your throat. Or changing all the mp3 files to audio since he burned it in mp3. Or downloading more "answers". Bad Sam. Bad.

My conscience is nagging me to make better use of my resources. Ish.

I'm not ready! But you better be!

Oh, Gravity! Why can't we seem to keep it together?

Too proud. Too arrogant. Too dignified.
I don't want to admit I'm wrong.
I don't want to admit what an idiot I am.
I don't want to admit that I have to ask God for things when I have so damn much.
I don't want to admit that there are things I just see differently.
I don't want to admit that I know and understand the reasons hated people do things the way they do.
I don't want to admit that I've never tried getting other people to understand them.
I don't want to admit that I wish for things I can live without.
I don't want to admit how pathetic I can be sometimes.
I don't want to admit that I understand.
I don't want to admit that I'm tired and scared.
I don't want to admit that I'm scared, because I'm not scared. I'm terrified.
I don't want to admit that.
I don't want to admit that though it's hard to piss me off, I AM BLOODY PISSED OFF.
I don't want to admit that I don't want to be the heartless daughter they think I am.
I don't want to admit that this feels so wrong.
I don't want to admit that I have feelings too.
I don't want to admit that I can be more ignorant than I want to be, but sometimes, it's for the best.
I don't want to admit that all I want is a few hours alone so I can tell HIM everything and cry my eyes out in peace.
I don't want to admit that I could really use a hug.
I don't want to admit that I don't want to tell people anything because I know they don't need to know.
I don't want to admit that I still want to tell them even though I know they don't need to know.

I don't want to tell the truth.

So you know what?

I WON'T.

I know it's stupid and pointless and a waste of my hard spent emotions.

But I'm don't want to be mature and wise and knowing.

I have every right to be an immature, reckless, bumbling fool.

But I can't afford to be.

Yes, I can.

No, I can't.

I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't!

OH, LIFE. WHY MUST THOU BE SO...LIFE-LIKE?

At least, I'm not living in Australia, Land of Sammie's Comfort Food. I'd have gained at least 5kg today for all the emotional issues I'd have to chocolate-fy away.

Being me is a lot harder than being a pretty face.

It's A LOT harder.

But you wouldn't know that! I'm not supposed to be telling you the truth!

Whoops.

As I write this, ti is 3:55am and, oh crap, we have practice tomorrow.

This trip to KKB brought back a lot of memories.
Especially of our third training camp. One year back, it was so different.
Sometimes, I really have to agree with Marc. This year's team are spoiled like a bunch of rich kids.

Last year, we only had five graduates with us: Joshua, Alan, Aaron W., Arthur and Patrick.
We set the system up.
We handled our own dramas, praise and worship sessions, song arrangements, icebreaker screw ups, totally blocked flows.
We ate, slept and got to the hall on our own accord.
We did the background stuff: logistics, music, sound problems, everything.
We had to come in a day before the Rally to clear up the admin stuff.
We did our logo the day before the launching so it could be printed on the banner and our t-shirt design only came out the week before the Rally.
We designed it. We (or at least Beatrice) photoshoped everything.
We couldn't ask for advice. We couldn't ask for encouragement. We didn't have people with us, coaching us, guiding us, at every single one of our practices just supporting us and pushing us on and telling us how many days away the Rally was.

Well okay, that was one of the biggest lies ever. We totally did, and AUNTY PAT deserves all the credit for that, and occasionally Patrick, and yes, we did have a few graduates around during more than just a couple of our daily practices.

But here they are with a whole team of people having their backs on everything. They have no idea how lucky they are.

And you know why, even though we know we've been through harder, that we're still doing this for them?

Because we love them. I mean, seriously. We love JYM and everything that represents it too much to ever want to give it up, or stop serving. Because this where we found our family and our ever-amazing, oh-so-awesome GOD. Because we just can't get enough of watching HIM transform the lives of so many other people every year. Because they mean that much to us. Because every new team member is a living, walking, talking miracale.

THAT is how much potential you have, you small-farted OTs. Reading your blogs are already making me cry.
Too bad last year I was the only idiot on the team with a blog and no one else would so openly release their feelings for the world to see but Daniel. He was my only associate in the blogging arena. Tsk.

But still.You guys have transformed since the first training camp, and now each of you has a story to tell, a story that will move hearts of stone. And you still don't know it. You still don't realize how precious each and everyone of you is in the sight of the LORD.
Don't worry about it, I've had graduates telling me that for the past two years and I rarely understand what it means.
But you'll understand. One day, someone will just come up to you and say, "Hey, you changed my life." And then you'll understand.
That GOD has this fantastic plan completely mapped out for you. Just for you.

You know how sometimes you hate the graduates during feedback sessions? And keep saying, "This isn't my fault, I'm still so inexperienced, why do you think we know everything all the time, how could you make us handle this kind of pressure?!" Well, maybe you aren't.
But last year, we went to the extent of calling them "hentam sessions". Until Aunty Pat told us to stop because she said she was trying to build us up, not whack the emotional daylights out us.
So we stopped using the term within her vincity.
But look at us now. We're the ones telling you what you're doing wrong and trying to make you see why it isn't working out.
Believe me, one day you'll come to love how we shoved what we did in your face all the time.

And yet again, you puny people have it so smooth. Last year, Aunty Pat refused to affirm us during affirmation. And we were freezing our asses off, not in the chalet, but in the other store room. We had to finish everything in one shot, so there were no breaks between seventeen people (Valerie was absent) for four and a half hours. But it's so touching to see that the entire OT of 2009 love each other so much. So cherish the rest of the experience while you can. Thou shall not and cannot and will not regret it. Really.

And I always thought it was scary how the graduates notice so much, and how all of them always knew the same thing. Now it totally freaks me out how much they really knew and just weren't letting on. But I'm starting to understand. And you will, when you become one of us. *muahas.*

When I look at this year's team, it takes me back to last year, honestly.
I wanted to ask whether any of the 08 team remember our launching.
The one I volunteered to lead after our fellowship?
You have no idea how much I felt like crying and did cry at every mass. I was so stressed out, and I know most of you, especially Crystal, Roeshan, Darren and Vanessa were doing their best to work with me, and they did, really, they did. But it was just so emotionally taxing, so stressful, that I still couldn't handle it. I still remember how Aunty Pat and Uncle Richard totally screwed the team on Sunday, which is why I never got around to it. Beatrice was sobbing so hard that day, she made me feel like doing so, too. I realize now that I could have asked for help but was too stupid to do so. All I wanted then was just for you guys to show up at mass on time.
Don't say sorry or pity me now. I'm not angry at you guys for this, nor am I unwilling to forgive and move past it. I just wanted you to know.

When I think of what we went through, it just makes me feel like laughing and crying at the same time. But I think if I could go back and experience it again, I'd be crying too much to be able to laugh at all the funny parts. That's how much I miss the outreach team experience sometimes. I still love them, and always will love them. As much as I've come to love the graduates.

And even though we don't stay young forever and we'll grow and move on one day, the funny thing about being a part of JYM is that one fine day, a few years down the road, you can still come back and be greeted by your old (old) friends screaming your name and hugging you and having everyone else call you an old fart like we did behind everyone's back last year. I clearly remember Marc telling us last year that even if we stayed away from JYM for years we could still come back and be a part of the hype. But it depends on how many can stand being so far for so long.

The thing is, you can't live in your past. There's no point in missing it that much, because then you'd be missing out on your present and you future. But they make good memories to smile at as you think upon, and to remember the idiotic things you once did and had a part in.

Another thing from last year. Remember it, even if it'll take a while to figure out.

You can want the best for you. Your family can want the best for you. Your
friends, your teachers, Aunty Pat, Uncle Richard, all the graduates can want
the best for you.
But what you think may be the best for you may not be God's best for you.
God thinks in supremely funny ways, and he has different ideas about the best for you.
But know that's God's best for you is the best best for you there could possibly be.
So even if you don't think it's best for you,
trust God and let Him make it HIS best for you.

Now, be glad and place your hope in the Lord. For He'll give you better than you could ever imagine.

revelations.

I fell in LOVE. :)

You know, I've always been under this impression that I'll just know from the start when something is right in my life. That I'll always have this undescribable gravitation to whatever's right for me, whether it's rational and logical or not. I've always thought my instincts and gut feeling could be trusted fully to take note of something I know will make a difference and to make the right decisions.

So was I right?

Was I ever. X)

Of course I knew, the minute I walked into the room and saw you sitting there, that I needed you. It was like finding another part of me, a discovery that just put a smile on my face the second you came into my line of vision. :) Beautiful and redheaded, you spoke for everything I wanted to say but just couldn't find the words to.

But what my instinct didn't know was that I'd have to go through so much more before realizing that nothing else can feel like such a big part of me. Because regardless of how much I've tried to look for a replacement, that's what you've always been.

A part of me. :)

Maybe I just think of you as someone like me because you are. Small, short, thin, multi-taskable, multi-purposed, different and Compact with an heartstring-tugging voice. Besides, you have to admit, you look oh-so-totally good with me. X)

I love you. And you know I do. :)
Even if I do *Sh-mack (credits to Evelyn, the Drama Mama XD) you a lot.

I like LOVE.
Awesome? Because it's MINE. :)

I feel like I'm walking in the footsteps of my elder counterpart. XD

Ibanez.

But maybe that's just what works for you and me and him. :)

I love you more than I could ever love this part of me.

But I'd never tell you that.

For more pictures, view my Facebook page. :)

Does Blogger have a word limit?

TODAY...

...I think I'll start from the top. :)

Thursday.
I went to BEATRICE's to *work*. And guess who opened the door? CLAIRE. :) Who I gaped at because she was gaping at me first. XP
Between *printing and cutting illegal money* and her explaining it to me, I told her everything. And being the ever-popular, president-of-Leo-PJI Beatrice, she obviously knew everyone I mentioned. And so did her brother, who, to my great fortune, locked himself in his room. :)
So that's one person off the list.
Then we went to Sri Hartamas to fetch DARREN before going shopping! At Tesco. XD Where we first visited the kiddie section because Darren never gets to there.

The same people who were retarded enough to go check out microwave prices with me and consider buying instant pasta so we could cook it on her stove at camp. XD
On the way back to Kelana Jaya, I told Darren everything.
So that's another person off the list.
We finally got back to KJ, but not before Darren and I soaked ourselves rushing around under the burst pipes in the sky to buy those *strings and poppable things*. XD
After (me) changing and printing out the rest of our *money*, we ended up judging the hot and the not of Beatrice's Facebook friends. XP
Darren, Darren. Eighteen, I can accept. Lingerie model? That's another story. XD And what kind of I-don't-even-know-how-to-use-Facebook stalker did I ever hire? XD Well, at least now you know.
Beatrice, Beatrice. One word: Long. Another two: too old! seven years. XD

Friday.
The last day of school was...uneventful.
Oh, and you did ask how I could stand it. Well, she may be an infuriating gossip who tries to poke her head and mouth into everything and he may be a cowardly twerp, but that just goes to show they aren't worth my time crying or depressing over. Why does what they say have to disturb me when that's all it is? What they say. Is that anywhere near as important as the truth and your dignity?
I am proud to say we actually accomplished quite a lot during practice. =) Or at least for that, that, that and that. Oh, and that. =) It was very satisfying. :)

Saturday.
Church. 7.30 a.m. To pray (konnonye).
Breakfast was eggs and sausages. And...

JOSHUA, me, SHELDON, VICTOR...Damn tired la. I slept at two last night.Me too!
What were you doing so late?
Um...writing?Writing?? Writing what?Aiya, must be her diary la, what else?Ohh...journaling...Eh, quite hard to find people keeping diaries these days.Well, I have three.HAH? You write three diaries at the same time?!
No la, I've been writing since standard four...
Oh...but three? That's not that many.
People don't write in it everyday la.But I write quite often.How much do you usually write? Just one line, is it?Well, the shortest would be about three pages and the longest was...six pages.
O.O"
What do you write so much about?!
*Marc joins the table.
Eh Marc, did you know she has three diaries? Probably writes about us a lot la.Aiya, if you just flip back to early last year, you'd probably see, "Dear diary, today I just saw Marc for the first time! HE'S SO HOT!!!"XD
Nice try. But I saw you for the first time in '07. XP

After that the Renewal programme started. But...I'd rather describe the experience as a whole, so we'll pass that bit for the moment.

Went to fetch Joshua's car in Marc's new Mercedes. C= Marc and MICHAEL comfortably sitting in front while Joshua, LAURA, MICHELLE and I were squashed at the back. Called KEVIN through the car's radio/navigator/whatever else it does just to have someone to call. X) Laura and Michelle pretty busy pressing all the buttons they could reach from the backseat.

Michael, MichelleSam, why you so quiet? Probably plotting what she's going to write about us in her diary la.
Dear diary, I don't know why I have such retarded friends people I just met.

But this was the best part.

Marc, Michael*points at the circle next to the speedometer* Eh, check out this cool thing la. I have no idea what it does, but it has two hands!*looks at the circular thing* That's - a clock.
Michelle, Laura and I burst out laughing like hyenas all the way to church.
It even had the numbers 1-12 around the edge!
Marc. Is clearly lacking in a few vital brain cells.

The day wore on until Inner Healing later that night.
Inner Healing. I think the number of those I went through last year has slightly damaged my Inner-Healing mood. Seriously. For the past 11 months, as other people reconciled, came back to God, wept and dried their noses on their sleeves, I was always the one...grinning like a loon.
Oh, don't get me wrong, I totally felt the presence of the Spirit in me. But it was just so...peaceful. Relaxing. Rejuvenating. Hyper-ing.
Hey, at least I didn't burst out laughing like some totally high nutcase, okay?
Though I should have. X) Drunk on God' love, right NICHOLSON?
I have a feeling Inner Healing isn't going to stop making me feel totally pumped up anytime soon. X)
And that's just the way I want it.

Dear diary, today, Marc started calling me "compact". Well, it's an improvement from "short stuff", so I don't think I can complain. Nicholson, Sheldon and Victor played "testing Sam's reflexes". I would have kicked them like a lot of people suggested, but then I didn't want to risk them losing any teeth or I'd probably be footing the dental bill. (Just kidding.) And sometimes I wonder why God made me so easily tickle-able. Now Michael won't leave my head alone. Really, what kind of sense of humour does God have?

Sunday (today).
GRACE was sketching. A lot. =) Personally, of course, I loved the ones that had to do with the renewal. Like the symbol with our names inside. And the sketch of CHRISHEN, Joshua and I sitting in a row from the back. And the profile of the RYM guy sitting across the aisle. C=
There wasn't enough food for lunch. So I skipped, aside from Nicholson's donation of chicken to my early-tea-less stomach. XP
Very Too soon...it was time for praise and worship. It may have felt odd, but it must definitely have looked mental wearing a wireless and holding a wired mic at the same time. But...praise and worship was good. =)
And then the red balloon. Oh my gosh. Sometimes I am in such cynical awe of my own blur-ness.
I walked backstage to get my red balloon when I saw this unknown guy in a white shirt sitting there. Of course I wondered why he was grinning at me and smiling. =.="
SHAMUS.