My heartiest congratulations to Melodie for her LSE acceptance. I deserve none of the thanks she posted on her blog but I'm happy for my fellow UCAS-crazy-during-prelims classmate. I'm still waiting for the result of my LSE application, and I do hope I get it soon, no matter what the outcome. I'm wondering if I should attend the above-pictured thingy; I probably will if I get a positive response by then, so fingers crossed. 

Now, back to my numbered points as has been the feature of my blog for a while now: 

1. Epochal changes have taken place over the last 11 days. With an entire month of 2009 behind me, my perspective is still being altered with each experience, which is as it should be. 6 days into February and I'm beginning to appreciate just how different this year is gonna be. Out of all this, however, the one moment that is stuck in my memory is of the day when, in the company's store, my eyes chanced upon a copy of Irvine Welsh's 1993 breakthrough novel, Trainspotting. The incongruity of this text in this setting notwithstanding, I began thumbing through the book before I stopped at a section titled The First Shag After A Long Time, and I now appreciate the genius of the book, even if this part isn't the most noticeable amidst the unconventional narrative style and all that. I'll end my post with a little excerpt. 

2. I'm waiting for a number of dates and outcomes (like the LSE one mentioned), but out of all of them (and there are quite a few of different natures), arguably the one I'm most anxious about is the PSC board interview. Originally meant to be this Monday, the 9th of Feb, I've received an email saying it has been postponed, and I've been waiting for an update ever since. I've spent a lot of time trying to prepare for that over the past 11 days. 

3. Probably because I attended the inaugural S. Rajaratnam lecture on Foreign Policy given by the President last year, I received a call from the MFA, and I'll be attending their tea session tomorrow afternoon, after Deon's birthday lunch. Of all the ministries, this is with no shadow of a doubt the one I'm most passionate about. 

4. There is no experience like riding in the back of a military 5-tonner 8 times a day for 6 days. Having my back slammed into its sides continuously has meant a nagging ache which I will get checked out, possibly with prospects for Sunday to Tuesday thereafter. 

5. I sat in Josh's former office seat yesterday, and it reminded me of how my initial direction has been changed completely. It was an all or nothing thing, and I'm glad I started with the former, but circumstances are different now. I also met Josh Tay, Andrew and Jun Jie, all from church, on the ferry out after lunch. 

6. What can one do with 5 extra hours? Quite a bit actually. I've cleared my email accounts and other regular internet stuff (a process that usually takes an hour each day, so accumulating 11 days' worth of it and being able to finish it already is rather remarkable I must say), made plans for tomorrow, and will be on the way out to do a spot of shopping with a planned shopping list in mind - order contact lenses, buy wet wipes and other miscellaneous supplies for next week, a box of coloured pencils, headwear, footwear and gifts. All this before the rest get out. Let life resume earlier (and perhaps end later?) than first thought. 

"He woke to the sound of cutlery clinking and the smell of bacon frying. He caught a glare of the back of a woman, not Dianne, disappearing into a small kitchen which was just off the living room. Then he felt a spasm of fear as he heard a man's voice. The last thing Renton wanted to hear, hungover, in a strange place, wearing only his keks, was a male voice. He played at being asleep. 

Surreptitiously, under his eyelids, he noted a guy about his height, maybe smaller, edging into the kitchen. Although they spoke in low voices, he could still hear them. 

- So Dianne brought another friend back, the man said. Renton didn't like the slightly mocking intonation on the term 'friend'. 

- Mmm. But shush. Don't you start being unpleasant, and jumping to the wrong conclusions again. 

He heard them coming back into the front room, then leaving it. Quickly, he pulled on his t-shirt and jumper. Then he unzipped the bag and threw his legs off the couch and jumped into his jeans, almost in one movement. Folding the sleeping-bag neatly, he stuck the settee's displaced cushions back where they belonged. His socks and trainers were smelly as he put them on. He hoped, but in a futility that was obvious to him, that nobody else noticed. 

Renton was too nervy to feel badly wasted. He was aware of the hangover though; it lurked in the shadows of his psyche like an infinitely patient mugger, just biding its time before coming out to stomp him. 

- Hello. The woman who wasn't Dianne came back in. 

She was pretty with nice big eyes and a fine, pointed jawline. He thought he recognized her face from somewhere. 

- Hiya. Ah'm Mark, by the way, he said. She declined to introduce herself. Instead, she sought some more information about him. 

- So you're a friend of Dianne's? Her tone was slightly aggressive. Renton decided to play safe and tell a lie which wouldn't sound too blatant, and therefore could be delivered with some conviction. The problem was that he had developed the junky's skill of lying with conviction and could now lie more convincingly than he told the truth. He faltered, thinking that you can always take the junky out of the punter before you can the junky."

From Irvine Welsh's Trainspotting, p. 143-4, Vintage series.