My Secret Haven

Automatonophobia is the fear of anything that falseyrepresents a sentient being, andI am, unfortunately,automatonophobic. Wax statues creep me out, china and/or porcelain dolls which details are so intricate creep me out, ventiliquist dummies creep me out (Jeff Dunham's puppets don't count)... 

Well, I think the most ironic phobia, is hippopotomonstresquipedaliophia. Yes, it is a real phobia (yes, you idiot, phobia means fear) and the ironic thing is,  hippopotomonstresquipedaliophia is the fear of long words. Imagine that! One day there'll be this hippopotomonstresquipedaliophia person who introduces himself to someone and says "Hi... I'm Bob and I'm hipp..hippo... hip...... OH MY GOSH It is a long word!!! RUNNNNNN RUNNNN ITS A LONG WORD! EAAAAKKKKKKKKKKKK" 

Hhaha that'd be so funny coz he'll be leaving the other person thinking that he said "Hi... I'm bob and I'm hippo", You know, I'd salute anyone who can pronounce hippopotomonstresquipedaliophia, because even I, a Trinity College / Helen O Grady student who emcees, aces in English and narrates a lot, am unable to pronounce hippopotomonstresquipedaliopohia. Let's try breaking it down.

hippo / poto / monst / equi / peda / lio / phobia

Whoa that was tough...  Hippopotomonstresquipedaliopohia....

Well, you can check out other cool phobias and their respective names at The Phobia List. There are some as stupid as:

Virginiti Phobia - Fear of virgin women
Xanthophobia - Fear of the colour or word "yellow"
Urophobia - Fear of urinating or urine
Venustraphobia - Fear of beautiful women

Alright, I shan't be a balloon burster - go check it out yourself at The Phobia List!!

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hippopotomonstresquipedaliopohia rox!

Well, I was researching this evening, please do not ask why I was doing that at the clock struck 10.30pm, on eidetic memory, which I am finding quite interesting =)

 Eidetic memory, such as photographic memory, is somewhat like the ability or skill which cannot be trained, to remember something in your mind, then later on picture it like as if it were right SMACK in front of you. See, people with photographic memory are able to picture something they have seen right in front of their eyes.

Imagine being able to picture The Last Supper by Davinci on a blank piece of canvas like as if you were looking at the real thing, after just seeing that wonderful masterpiece once for like, what, three minutes? That is how people with eidetic memory are able to remember things so easily and clearly. Well, that is, at the very least, how they claim to remember these things.

Many studies have been done to test its validity. Individuals capable of superior memory were tested and many were found not to possess eidetic imagery. A study done by Degroot shows that some individuals are highly skilled at organizing information- not actually reproducing the images they see. 

The most convincing and unique documentation of eidetic imagery was a case study done by Charles Stromeyer in 1970. The subject of their study, a woman named "Elizabeth," was able to write out poetry in a foreign language years after seeing the original text. She was also able to project her images onto a blank canvas or over the top of other images. Moving her eyes allowed her to scan the projected image, which remained entirely stationary. Her images would break apart instead of fading away slowly. 

 Although Elizabeth is an extreme case, a study done by L. R. Haber and R. N. Haber (1964) documented similar behavior in children with eidetic imagery. The subjects were exposed to a detailed picture placed on an easel for thirty seconds. When the picture was taken away, the children scanned the blank easel in order to describe the image. Their descriptions were given in the present tense, as if they were still looking at the image. From various studies, Haber and Haber found that it is vary rare; approximately 2-15% of elementary school age children are capable of eidetic imagery. There was no connection between gender and incidences of eidetic memory. The images lasted at least forty seconds and could persist for up to several minutes. They also had a wide range of accuracy; they could be highly detailed or fragmentary. Participants could voluntarily terminate these images by blinking or looking away. If not terminated, the eidetic images involuntarily faded in a similar manner.

CREDIT

Majority of the information stated above, namely the text in yellow, was taken from "Serendip"

Well, I just realised that I have neither updated my blog nor Lesha's blog in a friggin long time.
Well, anyway, for term 1 I did really well for the exam - all A1, except for Chinese in which I had gotten a B3 and Home Economics which... I had gotten a... (you do not need to know), but for R1L4 I got 6 points.
And as for the mid-years I did horribly. My results hit me like a rugby ball with electric currents flowing through it. Well, I did really badly. For R1L4 I got 14 points. 14 points!I couldn't believe it either.
Well, I didn't even manage to grab two A's - I had only managed to get one A1 and the rest were B's and C's. Despite how badly I did, I had gotten seventh in class and as for level position, I was among the top 30. Yes - I was 29th place. Quite unbelievable, considering how badly I had done... And yes - that A1 was for literature.

So anyway, I got B3 for my english, which is simply absurb. Want to know why? Well, I was absent for paper 1 (compo), and guess how they calculated my marks for paper 1. No, they didn't take the average of my everyday class work - they took the average of two other people in my class!
You see, for example if you are fifth place for english composition in class, they will take the average of the fourth place and sixth place to attain your marks. But I was first place in class for composition - hence, they had to take the average of the second and third place, in which I find totally unfair and unjust.
Like the teacher said - my standard is higher than the second place's by quite a bit. My english teacher, Miss Guaring, being the kind person she is (no, I am not trying to suck up to her, hoping that she might stumble upon this blog one day), will be discussing this issue with the head of english. Oh wells.

Well I think I've said enough for now. I'll let you know if I do get some bonus marks for my composition!

Only if you owned a pet, would you understand how worried I was for my rabbit Milo when he injured himself.

Being the greedy rabbit he was, he was getting really excited that I was feeding him (please do not take this the wrong way - I don't feed them seldomly, I feed them twice a day!) and hence we just jumping in and out of his cage repeatedly.

In. Out
In. Out
In. Out
In. Out
In. Out
(Pauses)
In. SPLAT

Blood had been splattered on my white shirt.Taken aback, I carried Milo out and he was struggling, kicking, scratching, biting, but I refused to let go. I examined him and found the source of all the blood splattered on the floor - his toe!

His hind toe was caught on the gate and was pulled straight out from the roots. You see, rabbit's 'fingers' grow inside their toes. Imagine the pain and panic he felt! Being the pampered, spoilt and cherished rabbits they are, they have never been hurt or injured before, let alone bleed that much!

I asked my mum to help me apply styptic powder on his wound so that the blood would clot while I carried him, since no one dared to carry kicky, scratchy, bity, bloody Milo. Although the applying of styptic powder on Milo's wound must have hurt, I am quite sure he was trying to withstand the pain. I held him tight enough such that he wouldn't wiggle free, but loose enough such that I would hurt him anymore. I used my left hand the carry him and my right to stroke him, comfort him and to cover his eyes (I heard that it helps them relax a bit). When it was done, I let him back into the cage where I tried my best to push the water and food close to him, so he wouldn't need to move much. But still, being active and mishevious, he continued jumping, running, climbng and kicking. 

Well, if you owned a pet, you would know how worried I was for my dear rabbit Milo. 

Dickinson - DEATH


Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –

Okay, I did really bad for my PSLE, so I actually got into Pierce Secondary which is in Bishan. And I stay in Woodlands, so its really far. Well, you may be wondering why this idiot put a school that is bloody far away when it itsn't like, Raffles girls or something. You see, it was because at that time, Pierce Secondary offered Drama as an 'O' Level subject, and I'm really into drama.

 Anyway, only after the deadline for posting your choices did my Helen O Grady teacher, Teacher Lynette, call my mum telling her that they are working Trinity College and I'm sort of 'elligible' to take an exam. So when we got back our posting results, I got into the school in Bishan. Hence, I appealed for Admiralty Secondary School.

The teachers are okay I guess. So are most of the people there. My friend from church, Joel, came from Admiralty Secondary too. He told me 'bout lockers, but sadly the school took them away as people were putting their homework in and hence forgetting to bring it home. So instead of a proper locker, I put my fulscap and other "every-day-stuff" under my table since the class is locked every time the class is left empty.

-January 09

I got bored one day, hence I decided to write a song which wouldn't make sense to most.

How do you define
Someone who's lonely
How do you define
Someone who's torn

You try to be nice
They all trample on you
How do you know
Who really needs your help?

(Chorus)
If I were to die now (die now)
Would anyone notice me?
If I were to die from a seizure
Would anyone shed a tear?
If I were to die now, trip and fall
Would anyone feel guilty
If I were to die now (die now)
Would anyone notice me?

How do you help
Someone who's lonely
How do you help
Someone who's torn

(Bridge)
They only notice you (notice)
When they really need your help
Other than that, you're non-existant
How can I stay noticed today?

(Repeat Chorus)

-----END-----

COPYRIGHT 2009
No part of this publication may be reproduced, republished,
printed or performed without the prior written consent
of Claire Leong.

Man, how I miss my primary school friends. especially Lesha. We started off as enemies, you know?

You see, when I was in primary four, I was this bitchy, bratty, The world revolves around me person. So obviously, little people got along with me well. I was easily pissed, I had a bad temper, I was bitchy (I already said that, didn't I?), I was a hypocrite, I was screwed up in almost every way possible. So anyway, we were in the same Primary Four class, 4G. We were sitting in two rows beside each other, and she was diagonally in front of me. 

Then I have no idea why, but I was suddenly furious at something. Hence, Lesha got a little pissed at me. Here's how the quarrel was some what like:

Lesha: Can you be more like Haneesa or not? 

Claire: I'm not Haneesa, okay?

Lesha: You know what - you're a snob, Claire. A snob!

Claire: Then what about you? (I have mistaken snob for slob)

Lesha: You mistook lah - I'm a slob, you're a snob! (How'd she know??)

Claire: Yeah? And you're a dog!

Lesha: (gasps) Oh I get it, I get it -  you're calling me a bitch right!?! (HOW'D SHE KNOW THAT??)

 Claire: (beat) No, as in cannot stand on her own feet, but needs someone to support her always!

Lesha; And you're a snob! (Writes the word 'snob' on a piece of paper and shows the class)

Claire: DOG! (Writes the phrase 'dog, as in cannot stand on her own two feet ' and shows the class too)

Lesha: At least I have someone to support me! Not like you!

Claire: Hey, its not my fault!

Lesha: Be more like Haneesa can!?!?

At this point, I started to cry like a baby (please don't ask why or comment on the crying. I admit it - I was a bitch, okay?) and Lesha was afraid that Mrs Cheah would see me crying and chide her, hence, she walked up to me and starting babbling, "Okay, okay, sorry lah. I'm sorry, you're not like Haneesa, okay? Don't cry larh!" 

But at the end of Primary Four, we were forced to set aside our differences and work together when we both were chosen to be EMCEE for Teachers' day. I was really excited - it was my first time being EMCEE! Lesha was totally excited too, but we weren't so keen about the 'work-with-each-other' part. We had to write out the script together, and after awhile, I realised that she wasn't so bad. Hence, we got along, but we still weren't good friends yet. 

We were chosen to be EMCEEs a lot through Primary five and six. In primary six, we became really really close, and became sort of best friends =). She  'dumped' her other friends because they started to become how I was in Primary 4 - bitchy, idiotic, slobs, lelei . Man, how I wish that I wasn't so bitchy in primary 4, then we could have been friends longer. I really really regret that quarrel with Lesha.

I wonder if she's making a lot of new friends in her school, RiverSide Secondary. I'm so envious of her. I'm trying not to get so close to my current friends, because I really really want to get a transfer next year to RiverSide secondary. Okay, maybe Lesha has found a new 'recess-buddy', but atleast I know there will be a Lesha there, and no whiny girls who scream a lot.

Man, it was really fun playing with Lesha, especially backstage. We would play with this really really long rope and think up of stupid stuff we could do with them. I'd pull myself up the rope and hang there by my arm for awhile, and challenge Lesha to do it too. Then we'd just laugh if any one of us fell.

Sometimes, we'd play tug-of-war with the rope, until one of our hands have been burnt by the rope. SO FUN@

The last time one of us got hurt was fun. We were in the Library resourse room, with rough carpeted floor. We were running about and play-fighting, like how we always do, when she flung me to the ground a little too hard on accident. I landed on my shoulder, rolled a bit and banged myself on the cupboards. even though it hurt, Lesha and I were laughing like a bunch of people who had just escaped of WoodBridge Hospital.

Well, so then we started to check out my bruises, and I had grazed my shoulder and knee. My shoulder was grazed so badly that I couldn't move my arm and even when I wore my jacket over, it hurt a lot. Luckily, I was wearing a sleeveless dress (I didn't want to wear a dress. Honest .) 

Man I really miss those days. Lesha taught me to say lelei and use the word "gay" in sentences, while I taught her how to use less Singlish like "lah" and "lor". We really had much fun. I wish that we'd be able to arrange a day where we can meet up to just talk and catch up on each other. 

=) 

 WOOTS! My poem has already been published in the book, and I have just received the parcel from http://www.poetry.com/, the sent it to me. It is so cool! this is the poem:

A little girl by the sea
Crying for all to see
She always sat under the tree
Wishing that one day she could be free

Trapped in the hands of fate
The neighbours heard her cry
But they just turned out the light
When morning came, it was too late

A rope held her body up to the tree
Finally, she was free

So what do you think? I think its the best poem I have ever written !!! Quick, go to http://www.poetry.com/ now and post your poem. Tell me if it gets published!

-July 08

Put in a little more juice from the newts' eye, and....
B A M !

There you have it! Your very own LOVE POTION! Ok, so its not juice from newts' eye, its pheromones. Scientists have realised that what attracts one person to another is his or her 'smell' from the pheromones. This prevents one sibling to have children with his or her own sister or brother (inbreed). The child will probably come out purple, with 8 fingers, no eye-lids, and probably with a birthmark on its shoulder which will say 'I'M AN INBREED'.

Moving on... Scientists have found a way to bottle these things up! An experiment was carried out to proof that these love potions actually work. Two twins, A and B ( I don't know their names ), were sent out to look for date. A, 'wearing' pheromones, and the other wasn't. In the end, A got three times as many men that approached her then B.

So the next time you come across a hottie, remember to SNIFF him or her and make sure that hottie is not just using love potion(s) to attract you.

I wonder if this should be illegal. Its messing with people's mind! I mean, what happens, if, let's say, a couple, A(female) and B (male), got married because A was using love potions, and B still has no idea? Its such a screwed up potion... But it is soo cool! I guess its ok for fun, don't you?

-May 2008

Currently nothing. Pathetic, eh?