Computer Security Day/St. Andrew's Day/Independence Day (Barbados)/Clear Up The Clutter Day
2005-11-30 @ 3:55 p.m.

Our class is having a party in two hours. On some level, this feels totally like the Mrs Dalloway subplot of The Hours, as if we're trying to throw that one perfect party that'll end the year on the right note for all of us. Two years go by, some people and things change, some don't. Hardly surprising, as Mme Wyatt from Love, Etc. would put it. All I know is this: That two years in RJC have meant more to me than four years in RI. three years in NYPS possibly comes close in terms of memorability. Not that life in RI was horrible, but the memories I have there are connected more to individuals. Put it this way: I'll remember RI because of specific people, but I'll remember RJC because of my class. Not an especially elegant phrasing of my thoughts, but I trust it conveys them sufficiently. So this is what I remember: Sitting in a circle with our seniors outside the back gate at the old campus, munching cinnamon buns; not getting dunked (thankfully) at our first class party with our seniors; tracing messages on the frosted door of TS1 because it was the air-conditioner was perenially malfunctioning; brainstorming for the perfect line for our class sweater, which turned not a few heads when we wore it; getting to sit at the back of the LT for Mathematics lectures because we had brilliant scorers like Rui Min to pull our average up; skipping out of said lectures to buy food; singing The Rainbow Connection at another party at Ka Tsai's place; eating salty apple crumble at Chernise's place because Dan made it with salted butter by mistake, and then having to play I-have-never to force ourselves to finish it; making earrings in class for sale at yet another ORA thing; Mel's dinner party and not being able to find stewed tomatoes; playing mahjong at the kelong and avoiding flying hooks; Mr Kwok stalking out of class because we didn't prepare for his tutorial; our class cheering for Yumun at the girls' hockey final; a hastily planned celebration of Teachers' Day. All that's just a sample of what we've done in two years. 20 people, two years, one class. Thanks for the memories...