mom fetched me from school today...

walked down the block to see the car and this little girl in a pink dress in the backseat... and then i checked.. and saw my mom in the frontseat.

"hey, mom? you've got a kid in your car..."

turns out it was my neighbour's daughter.
she was wearing glasses or something... that's why i didn't recognize her...

ah.

once again, i am thankful that i've been living the life of the youngest kid for the past 8 years...
and the life of the only child for the other 8...
(gee flew off to london to study when she was 18..and when i was 8.. after that it's just been me..alone at home...)

sometimes i look at gwen and her siblings and i wonder what life would be like if i actually had siblings who *lived* with me...

it would definitely be much more interesting... that much i know...

the 'rents told me that if i was going to study in london, i'd get to live with gee.
or rather, gee offered so that they wouldn't have to pay for boarding fees as they did for her...

very magnanimous, that gee.

so adding up.. the time we lived together until she left...plus the time i would have to spend if i do decide to go to a college in london... let's say i do medicine...... 8+4...i think i'll do my 2 years of internship back here in singapore..so that's 12... and by that time.. i'd be 18+6... 24.

not bad.

half of my student life i would spend living with gee.

back to the experience of spending my time with my "little sister for 15 minutes"...

1. i walked towards the front seat... my mom asked me to sit behind and give 'the little girl some company.."

fine. i dump my books in the front seat, and squash in behind.

[little bit of rant: here's the deal of living with your parents with 2 cars... my dad has probably been in my mom's car..twice since the beginning of the year... and my mom's only driven my dad's car 3 times since he bought it 2 years ago. i guess it's the problem of adjusting from a manual to an automatic... me being the 'only child' usually gets to ride in both cars..in the front seat, and since it's usually mom and me, the backseat of the car is usually the holding place of umbrellas, airport luggage, changes of clothes (when i have classes straight after school...) socks... and all sorts of garbage. so when people ask for a lift, she usually just dumps everything in the boot... but i'm used to sitting in the front seat of my mom's car... to a certain extent, my butt has adapted to it... and we *always* push it all the way to the back.]

today i had to squash into the backseat.

and i did. and whined so my mom pushed the front seat in front.

that's not the bad part yet.

there is a rule in singapore that all passengers have to wear their seatbelts.

for the past 10 years in which we had my mom's car, we never had seatbelts... until one day zealyn was digging in the backseat and pulled them out.

hmph.

whydidshehavetopullthemout?

anyway...we still can't be bothered with it and most of the time don't bother to wear seatbelts...rule or no rule...

and suddenly today.. i see myself having to play the 'role model' of sorts.

the stupid girl had obediently worn the seatbelts.

and i had no choice but to wear them too.

and for the record, i *hate* seatbelts or any constricting material of any kind. i used to hate bras, wait...i still do and that's why i just resort to sport ones... even in the airplane... i just put the blanket over and pretend to sleep to fool the airhostess so that she'd just leave me alone...

and it's only when we travel first class that the air hostesses know me by name and *ask* whether i want playing cards.

so we wore the seatbelts.

and then we start talking.

her: guess what? i know how to speak in french too! want me to say something?
me: ok.
her: bonjour! comment ca va? (hello..how are you..)
me: pas mal. vous? (not bad. you?)
her: NO! you're WRONG...you're supposed to say "ca va bien...merci...et vous?"
me: ca va bein. et vous. (i'm fine. and you?)
her: NO! you forgot to say "merci"!!!
me: merci.

and then the counting came... this was in french too...

her: i can COUNT too... look....
me: oh.
her: (in french) un...deux..trois...quatre....um...quatre.... (1..2..3..4..um..4...)
me: cinq. (5)
her: cinq....um...cinq.... (5...um..5...)
me: neuf... (9)
her: neuf...dix! (9...10!)
me: oh.. wow...

yes, so i am a little bit mean...
atleast she didn't notice that she missed 6,7 and 8...right?

and then the stupid questions came...

we past by the school gate and she reads out the school name...

her: ****** girls' school...
me: yes.
her: you go to a girls' school?
me: yes.
her: where are the boys?
me: there aren't any.
her: why not?
me: they're not allowed in.
her: why not?
me: 'cause we don't like boys.
her: why?
me: 'cause they talk to much... (*hint*)
her: oh... my school's a mixed school.
me: yes. most international schools are.
her: is yours an international school?
me: no.
her: what is it then?
me: an autonomous school...
her: what's that?
me: a government school.
her: what's the difference?
me: we take different subjects... and we're smaller in size... we follow singapore's education system... and we pay less.
her: oh. my school's free.
me: no. your mommy pays the school.
her: no. it's free!
me: no. you just don't see her pay. but she does pay.
her: NO! my school's free! no one ever pays!
me: oh.. is that right?
her: yeah. what's that green thing on your nametag?
me: this shows the level that i'm in in the school.
her: what colour's the highest?
me: green.
her: oh. you're wearing green.
me: oh. yes, i am.

i've learnt that we should *never* bother trying to argue with kids.

my 15 minutes with that 7 year old has provided a teeny bit of insight into my own life.

i am who i am today, partly because of my family...
i've always been the kid... the youngest one... the one everyone has a responsibility to look after...
and the one always striving to grow up faster...

started shaving my legs when i was 9...
because my sister was doing it...

wore makeup since i was 4...
because my sister was doing it...

somehow i have this feeling that who i am today...is not exactly who i am...
i'm just a gee replica. a 2nd grade gee...

atleast i'm lucky that it's not shown on the outside.

on the street we're totally different.

now that i'm 15, she's 25.
i was brought up in the asia-pacific.. she was brought up in europe...

our accents are miles apart.
and she can't stand my coarse singlish twang... and i get irritated with her londonish slang...

now i stand a little taller than she does.

but she always looks older.

and our sense of style is way off.

that goes for responsibilty too.

now that gee's working, she's saving up for my college fund.
and she seems to make it her no 1 priority to make sure that i turn out "ok."

i casually mentioned having a pimple once...
one week later a whole box of skincare products appear at my door.

told her about my hair...
2 bottles of frizz ease in the mail...

told her about my prom...
3 magazines...all featuring prom gowns in the mail...
wesites of prom gowns in my mailbox..

told her that i want to stand out so i'll wear a saree...
asiawomen arrives again at my doorstep.

i, however detest responsibilty and every single aspect of it.

teachers tell me that i had leadership qualities.

bleah.

whatever.

i don't want to handle the responsibility.

you people will have no idea how relieved i was that rmun was over.
no more un.
no more responsibility.
no more taking care of the "most popular contestants" was over.

sometimes, looking back.. it just proves elaine's theory of the popular people being chosen for un.

we have...
the chairperson for the ld.
the chairperson of the art club...
2 house captains.
the girl who topped english for the level.
the girl who topped lit for the level.

and practically all of us own some sort of position...

argh. why am i deviating from the main point?

the main thing is.. i realized that i've always been the kid...

and now i'm probably as mature as blink 182...

but somehow i don't seem to mind.

what's my age again?