I wasn't done with the chapter I was supposed to do, so I went back to my room and finished whatever I could. A while later my mentor popped his head into my room, said, "I heard from HY that it's your last day." He didn't stop for a chat though (he'd just came back from court) and so I followed him to his office where Kelly and I gave him his box of chocolates and my thank you note.
Then it was time to clear the table. I am a Clutterer. Everything I touch becomes cluttered and messy - it's just the way I am. Simultaneously I hardly ever misplace anything because I know where everything is amidst the mess, and so I knew what the thick stack of paper in front of the Internet modem was, as well as the other thick pile of paper carelessly stacked on the left of the table, and I knew where I left the Halsbury Laws of England chapter on County Courts. I threw things out, I kept some (I have this stupid habit of keeping absolutely useless things as "mementos" that end up collecting dust in my room), I forgot to clear the computer's hard disk. Oh well.
When I was done I picked up my bag and Jackie and I went to find King Man, after which the three of us trooped out of the office, took the elevator to the 37th floor, took the express elevator from the 37th floor to the first floor, and we walked out of the building, towards the MRT station, knowing each other better now than four weeks before.
And so concludes my first ever internship.
I'm not programmed to leave people and things and places and experiences without the slightest pang of something. I woke up feeling crappy and that crappiness persisted throughout the entire day, culminating eventually while onboard the MRT bound for Boon Lay in this vague emptiness that I couldn't exactly comprehend. I feel like I've lost my cred and coolness just writing this (I know - What cred? What coolness?) but I'm not programmed to not care, not when it was nineteen days of my life and a major first for me, and not when the experience was both more and less than what I'd imagined. Especially not when I'd finally stepped out of my comfort zone, got off my whiny ass, and did something about the lack of direction in which my life was heading.
There were some down times (evidenced by the number of Facebook wall posts I went around posting during work time) but when times were up, they were really up. Following HY and HJ to court, observing them while they do court duty, being endlessly entertained by the conversations I overheard while queuing up to enter chambers, having coffee/tea in the Bar Room, people-watching some more in the Bar Room and being endlessly entertained; following Boss An and S to the High Court, taking down notes for the appeal for which I did research from which a case I found was taken and used in the skeletal arguments, having lunch with S after and talking about the profession and life in general; stoning for thirty minutes in the office every single morning because I reached work at 8.20 a.m.; doing research on issues and topics that haven't been taught, that I had absolutely no idea about prior to the assignment of the task; doing research for Boss As who was super nice, blanking on some of his questions because I wasn't thorough in reading what I found, and still having a nice chat with him about torts, firemen who accidentally kill taxi passengers while responding to an emergency call, the profession, and life in general; following As to his mitigation plea which was the first ever criminal matter I attended, having tea with him, HJ and Kelly in the Bar Room afterwards, laughing at various sexual innuendoes that were a result of us talking about the unfairness of statutory rape laws; attempting to draft a contractual clause and getting it completely wrong, and finding out that I was really better at correcting grammar; and just meeting people, nice people, accommodating people, helpful people, caring people, dedicated and inspiring people, watching how they work, and thinking, I could do this too.
Because I could. It's not rocket science and it comes with more ease to you after you've been seasoned, broken in. It seemed impossible at first, even repulsive; but now, it seems possible, it seems alluring, it seems worthy and worth it. And it's not merely because of the money.
So if anyone asks, I know what they mean when they say 'CDR' and 'PTC' and 'indication' and 'mention'; I know (finally) what the last couple of sentences of judgments mean when they talk about costs; I know, too, that civil procedure is bloody irritating and convoluted and tedious; and most of all, I know now that life isn't as dead-end, trapped and antagonistic as I thought it was this time last year.
But of course, now I'm back with having nothing to do and all the time in the world to sit around and reflect and whatever. Not exactly what I'd opt for if you want my honest opinion.
The past month has been unexpected with pretty much an even split of ups and downs. But something still remains, a tumour that regenerates itself and therefore making a mockery of your attempts at slicing it off. I'm quite tired of it all.
I am back in being out of the game.
Driving test tomorrow, freaking out, convinced I'm gonna fail, thinking of what to wear that would drive home the fact that I'm a girl and a not-ugly one at that, if you get my drift.
If all else fails, free flow of drinks at One Fullerton with total strangers you'd probably run into here and there three years later shouldn't go wrong.
The Coffee Toast auntie at Raffles Exchange knows me now. I buy kopi-c kosong peng...except I called it, firstly, 'iced coffee without sugar', then 'coffee-c iced no sugar', then 'kopi-c iced no sugar', then 'kopi-c peng no sugar'. Every single time she had to ask me to repeat my order. Maybe that was what made me stick out in her mind, because ever since last week I'd open my mouth and say 'kopi-c' and she'd complete my order for me. The past two days have been, "The same please."
Sigh. I won't be buying kopi-c peng kosong whatever lah from her anymore, and when I'm back in Raffles Place on July 16 she would've forgotten me, and I'd need to start the whole 'iced coffee peng kosong kopi-c' whatever thing all over again. Sadness.
I can't speak coffee shop lingo, by the way. I know what it's called but when I say it nobody understands me. So I just stick with English. But sometimes people, especially old aunties selling coffee at food courts, still don't understand me.
So I should just stick to Starbucks. At least no one has not understood 'iced tall/grande soy latte'. Less ice.
Starbucks is still home, despite is blatant commercialism and sub-standard coffee.
So, my Blake didn't win. I couldn't take not knowing when it was 10 a.m. Singapore time so I checked the results in the office. It was expected, I didn't care that much actually, and I was just looking forward to watching his performance with this super famous beat-boxer dude whom of course I've never heard before prior to his appearing alongside Blake on American Idol. Doug E. Fresh. People were raving about the duet left right centre top down bottom.
And indeed - WOW. I hated Blake's sideways cap but the whole thing was just electrifying. It was like Bo's Sweet Home Alabama with Lynyrd Skynyrd, only...different. Not better, not worse, just different. Hip-hop versus rock, oil versus water. You know?
I love Blake. I don't know why, but I just do. I had this distinct thought while looking at him - can't remember if it was TV or laptop - that I totally want to fucking do him. He has this raw sexuality about him that's just so...sexy.
When Jordin kissed him after their duet I wanted to slap the shit out of her. I can't stand her, really. She's overrated and Melinda was much better and I didn't like Melinda, and I would've liked a Blake/LaKisha finale. Oh well. Anyway, back to the kiss - LIKE EW EW EW. I said 'ew' for about ten seconds. Because - EW. She's like GIGANTIC and he's like SHORT (his stage name was and is I think BShorty - B for Blake, I presume. At least he's self-aware), but most importantly, SHE'S LIKE SEVENTEEN. And he's TWENTY-FIVE. Just gag me, please.
Blake was too sexy for her. The entire duet felt a bit like watching a grown man seduce a little girl which is obviously gross, but I took Jordin out of the picture and imagined Blake was singing to me and it felt SO. MUCH. BETTER.
Anyway, the finale sucked. After Blake did the duet (so to speak) with Fresh everything else was just dull. Except Taylor, of course; always love Taylor. And Kelly Clarkson's new song is quite listenable. I like the anger, at least. Carrie continues to bore me and I never cared about Ruben (Jordin actually looks small next to him, oh my god, the impossible happening) and all the old folks made me go, Wha...? And the woman half of the duo Melinda sang with? Sounded EXACTLY like Melinda. Even LOOKED like Melinda. Was not impressed, did not care.
Blake Blake Blake Blake Blake! The whole time I was looking out for him. Ha, ha, ha. Love Blake to bits. Really do.
Do not like most of his original stuff though; it's so not my style. I don't see how he's going to sell records if he releases things like that (an attempt to describe: It's like...sounds. Not quite melodies. Just sounds. Electronic sounds. With slight variations, some lyrics, repeat and stretch out for six minutes. Can die lah) 'cause I might not even buy it but he does have a good recording voice when he's singing within his limited vocal range. So, despite everything, SO LOOKING FORWARD TO LISTENING TO HIS DEBUT CD .
I will miss looking forward to watching him and wondering what he'd do every Wednesday night.
Love Blake. Just love.