It’s good to be back in Brisbane. The exhilaration of coming back to my adopted city was too much for me to contain; I actually found myself smiling as the plane took flight. And then, of course I squealed & jumped around like a 13-year-old when I finally met my girls, after they got home from work. It was a moment of jubilance, finally being in the same country with both of them. All 3 of us together, AT THE SAME TIME.

We spent my first night here watching State of Origin, a simple pleasure I’ve missed so greatly ever since I went back to Singy. It’s always more fun watching sports with friends & unfortunately, I’ve never managed to find anyone else in Singy who shared a passion/interest in Rugby League. Over the last few years, as I cheered for Queensland by my lonesome self at home, I’ve longed umpteen times to be transported to Brissie so I can watch it with my dear friends. Even if it was just for that one evening. So finally being able to watch the game live, with all these folks, was a moment I couldn’t help but relish.

The next day, it was just a whole day of shopping & getting myself reacquainted with the city, in particular Queen Street Mall. It was SO comforting to see everything right where I remembered them to be (except a few new shops here and there). Walking down the street, I kept wondering why I’m not living in Brissie already. Then I realised that while I could go on and gush about how much I love the lifestyle & culture, I was also unwilling to let go of everyone back in Singy. It was a wretched feeling.

This evening, we had a good steak at Breakfast Creek Hotel, which incidentally is not a hotel by the way. Apparently, many pubs/restaurants here called Something Something Hotel are not actual hotels, while the real ones (e.g. Hilton, Sheraton) all don’t have “hotel” in their names. Go figure. Anyway, tomorrow, we’re heading out for lunch at West End. I’m sorta feeling rather touristy at the moment as I’ve never been there & the girls are specially arranging a trip there for me. Heh. :p

I can’t believe I’ve only got about 4 more days here. Yes, one week is too short, but I’m glad I’m able to spend whatever time I have with my girls. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

One of the students going to Germany with us is this vivacious girl who talks a-mile-a-minute. Sometimes, it’s hard keeping up with her energy. Today, she had a casual conversation with our Principal and there was no sense of formality whatsoever throughout the entire time they were chatting. She whined about her results, displayed plenty of candour while she expressed her opinion about issues and just wasn’t afraid to be herself. It got my Principal completely enthralled, most probably because no student has ever been as relaxed as she was around him. Then out of the blue, he remarked that this girl reminded him of a younger version of me. Um, say what?

I wasn’t sure what exactly sparked off the comparison but I later found out that he thinks we both share the same sort of enthusiasm when we speak. And I guess I agree. I mean, I know I can get quite animated when I talk to people (I definitely got this from my dad) and I can certainly rattle on. I guess I was surprised he caught on mostly because I don’t think I’ve ever shown that side of me around him. At least not that I can remember anyway.

I wasn’t always like that. I was a lot quieter when I was younger and was more prone to play by the rules, so to speak (I know someone who would attest to that *ahem*). Part of me believes that I was more “toned down” back then because my mother’s ex-classmate was a teacher in my Primary School and I was afraid she’d keep a very watchful eye on me. Fearing I’d get into trouble with my folks, I made sure I stayed clean. The other part of me simply thinks that I modelled my behaviour after my mum, who’s definitely not as animated as my dad. Since dad was an Inflight Supervisor and wasn’t around that much, everything I knew came from my mother.

All that changed when I got to Secondary School. It was a clean slate. There was no one there to govern me any more, and I could push limits. It was at this stage that I grew into my true(?) self and became more extroverted. I also started to understand my father better and his personality definitely influenced and shaped my being. Over time, my confidence grew and being as exposed as I was to the mass media, I also allowed myself to adopt some traits that were deemed favourable in my eyes. And of course, as we grow older and interact with more people, we’ll evolve.

So I don’t know what I’m gonna be like 20, or even 10 years from now. I may go back to being more like my mother. Whatever it is, I just hope I’ll be a better version of me.

It took 12 long days of very intensive marking, but I’m glad to announce that I’ve finally completed marking 418 scripts. Yes. 418. Count ‘em and weep.

Funny though, because I did weep. You see, the stress of grading that many examination scripts was insurmountable and so, on the last day of this marking extravaganza (that is, today), I broke down and became this emotional pile of mess. I’d experienced a migraine, several headaches, felt bitchy about colleagues who had smaller marking loads, went many nights without sufficient sleep, had no appetite to eat and was basically at the point of exhaustion. I wanted to lay in bed more than anything and distance myself far, far away from everything work-related. But I had to finish grading the last lot of essays. So I begrudgingly worked my red pen through the answers and then right when Glee’s True Colours came on my iPod, the tears flowed.

You with the sad eyes
Don’t be discouraged
Oh I realize
It’s hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you fell so small

Ayyy… damn you, song! For making me cry! But there I was, at the lowest of low, feeling so mentally drained and emotionally charged. I really needed to scream. But Lean On Me comes on next, and reminded me of how I simply needed to continue leaning on God for the strength I needed to see through this last stretch. Of course, more tears were induced because I was that messed up at that point of time.

I’ve always thought of myself as someone who was capable of handling stress pretty well. After all, my previous profession as an Events Organiser opened me to many high-pressured situations, and I’d never gotten emotional. Who knew marking exam scripts would break me down like that? I can only hope that next semester will be better, especially since there’ll be new teachers joining my department. We’re really short-handed as it is, and I honestly don’t know if I can handle such an insane marking load again in the final semester.

Now that it is all said and done, I could say I’ve emerged like a phoenix from the ashes, but I won’t cos that might be a little over-the-top? So excuse me while I go celebrate with some cake.