The Reso Chronicles

Chapter 1: The Unglam Lot

Reaching for the light.

According to reliable sources, Su Hui has finally found her match…either that, or she has stepped on a land mine.

We are trying to look harassed.

Think you’ve got bad hair?

The “whatever”.

Chapter 2: The Foodies

The illegal squatters.

Having fun with Styrofoam boxes a.k.a. Daniel.

Creating dining hell for the waitresses.

Chapter 3: The Sisterhood

Miss Kungfu Panda and Miss Dragon.

“I’ve got all my sisters and me.”

The SuSu’s.

Jeremy’s wife number 1 and wife number 2.

All girls are innocent. But some are more innocent than the others.

Charm: Su Hui! I love you with all my heart.

Me: *Giggles*

Gone with the wind.

Chapter 4: The Brotherhood (Not to be confused with Chong’s “Brotherly love”.)

The oppressed and the oppressor.

Trying to out-beng each other.

A rare photograph with an out-of-this-world specie.

The 2 happy drunkards-look-a-like.

I’ve got too many competitions.

Chapter 5: The Harem

My women.

The other 2 guys are my chauffeurs.

Chapter 6: The Family

Trust me when I say that we were very very sweaty.

A gathering of the young, the not-so-old and the ancient ones.

Hi, meet the mom, the dad, the daughter and the embarrassing son.

Joy cannot resist doing a Daniel.

Quite honestly speaking, I’ve been contemplating taking a break from Reso next sem. But after yesterday’s debrief and the subsequent thought processes that took place, I realise, I simply cannot leave. My existence in NUS is not defined by academics, but rather, the kicks I get out of gigging and hanging out with the big goofy family. Looking at how dedicated the year 4’s had been this year (Yes, I’m talking to you - CharmY, Boss Chong, Jeremy, Derek, Cheryl, Amanda), I’m all the more convinced that it is possible to stay on without compromising my studies. So, that’s right, I’m staying. =)

 

Thank you, Resonance!

I feel truly blessed to be part of this big and goofy family. And I can honestly say that I’ve never felt so much for any group of people other than Reso. While we do not perform as a collective entity of more than 7 people, we have never reserved our efforts or energy to our little group exclusively. We help each other out, we encourage one another, cry together and of course, do stupid things as a whole. One thing that continues to amaze me is our ability to constantly lavish praises and compliments on one another, without any reservations. You would imagine that in a huge group of great (and it’s not an exaggeration) singers, jealousies are inevitable. But this is definitely unheard of in Reso. I’ve lost count of the number of times when I’d catch great singers themselves gushing over another singer’s voice. Of course, our general love for food made me feel at home straightaway.

VO3 is not just a concert. It’s a significant milestone where deeper friendships are forged, where singers grow and the group progresses together. VO3 was a huge success not because we got our notes/chords right, but because we have managed to connect with the audience and they’ve felt what we felt on stage.  Thank you so much to all my Resonators, for making my last VO such a memorable one.

 

Pre-concert anxieties

I’m EXCITED! But I’m also shit scared at the same time!

*Chants to self*

I won’t mess up my lines.

I won’t forget my steps.

I won’t go out of tune,

X X X

I think it’s really weird to find myself being torn over something that does not have a remote possibility of happening. But that’s what dreams are for, aren’t they? Dreams allow you to find a coherent and beautiful painting out of incomprehensible shreds that the world chooses to ignore or neglect.

 

To die in the rain. Alone.

I got stood up today. And after spending the whole of yesterday assuring myself that this won’t happen, it still did. I know everyone’s been very busy moving on with their lives etc, but why is it so damned difficult to even meet up? Is anyone even sincere when they conveniently give an “Ok” as a reply? Empty promises again and again.

To think we all used to be the curbside poets. I guess just like curbside, we’ve all dissolved into nothingness.

 

Not all sugar and spice

It was uncharacteristic of me to snap at the poor security guard yesterday because he just so happened to catch me in one of my extremely foul moods. I was entering the security checkpoint and waved my pass at him before trying to hurry in since I was running late. But the security guard decided to stop me and claimed that the bag I was carrying was far too big and I’d have to deposit it in one of the lockers.

A bomb in me totally went off and I glared at him: “What do you mean by it’s TOO big?” while lifting up my itsy bitsy bag up to his eye level.

“It’s too big.” he replied calmly.

“I’ve been bringing this bag for almost a month and no one has said anything about it. How can it be TOO big?”

“It’s still too big.”

Glanced at a lady bypassing us with a bag of a similar size to mine. “Yeah, and I’m sure that lady’s bag is muuuuuch smaller than mine.” I pointed out to him.

I spent a good whole 10 seconds standing there, refusing to budge, all this time shooting daggers at him with my eyes.

Numbskull finally relented. “Ok, but bring a smaller one next time round.”

As I walked away, I muttered “Fuck you.”

Sigh. I think I’ve acquired some of the bratty behaviour of certain customers.

 

Numbers

Numbers, we’re all called by numbers. Innocence marked with digits, the moment we emerge from our mothers’ wombs. Raw and naked, out with a deafening cry of victory, believing ourselves to be special. But we’re all just numbers. Faces without histories. Plastered on bulletins, notices and the final obituaries. A permutation of features fighting for attention. Still, we all know that the 152nd one will be no different from the 151st.

Numbers, she’s called by numbers. Digits placed on her hair, her legs and her love. Offer her a price and she belongs to the highest bidder. Mangle her limbs in your desired manner as you stare into her vacant eyes. Make no mistakes about it for they’re the same as the ones before her. #36 was tough, #49 was tender while #67 was silent and her lips pulled all the way round her heart just to conceal it.

Numbers, I’m called by numbers. I sit in class under tight scrutiny as the teacher places a worth on my head. I can be an 80 today, but a 0 tomorrow. Even today, a number still hangs from me. That number calls to everyone but it remains a secret to me. Some point at it and laugh, others give a piteous smile, careful to not let down their own.

 

Hello, I’m the goodbye girl

Someone said that my “Hello, welcome.” has the sincerity of a 7-11 doorbell. Well, let’s hear you saying that more than a 100 times a day then, bitch.

And I must say that though I’m not crazy about doing “Rock DJ”, it just might turn out to be my personal best performance yet.

 

I just need to get this off my chest…

… Have I told you lately, that I love you?

Yes, my sexy Aca champs peeps, I’m talking to you.

Initially, I had my reservations when I decided to compete in Aca champs with you guys because I wasn’t sure how the group dynamics would turn out. And then I slowly, but surely, fell in love with my fruity sisters (Charm and Cherie) who are still so bloody adorable and assuring when the practices become stressful. I have Sumi, the forever-Eastie who will never fail to listen to me whine and complain when my work gets really shitty and I feel like crap. I admire Jia En’s (whom Sumi and I have been “dating” quite a bit in the past few weeks) endless amount of energy when it comes to cracking lame jokes. Then of course, Han Yang just had to relentlessly pursue the same course taken by Jia En, and coming up with stuff so 冷 it could freeze hell twice over.

Onwards! (Majulah???) my good people. Will we kick ass for VO3 and Champs? I’m sure we will. =)

 

Oranges are not the only fruit

In the world where I used to live in, black is black and white is white. Gray areas are non-existent. Or rather, disallowed. Now, the lines have been blurred. And while some black and white areas have been preserved in their entirety, various gray areas have gradually emerged. Am I compromising on my beliefs? Or am I beginning to understand that there are, in fact, many ways to look at things? Obviously, the second proposition seems more appealing to someone who would like to think of herself as being steadfast and unwavering in her beliefs. I’d like that, but that isn’t the truth. I can look at the world from different angles and understand that there exist different views, but it really doesn’t mean that I should slice the pie differently and eat it too. But I have. I’ve done things that I’m not proud of and if that’s not compromising on my beliefs, then I wouldn’t know what is.

 

I am the walrus

I’m frustrated with people in general. And this supposed hierarchy that they establish -this fucked up hierarchy which dictates that the dirt-washing goes to whoever is new. If having hierarchical bullshit shoved down my throat is not bad enough, I have to come to accept the fact that civility seems to have become a thing of the past. If putting on a civil front is too much to ask for, I beseech you not to ever step out of the house because my patience is wearing thin. Very very thin.