Because I'm not allowed to say what I want to say for my Call to the Bar, I'll say it here instead and leave the formal stuff for Court. For your reference, the speech will be read by my 'mover,' the Petitioner referred to, is me and the places marked with an asterisk (*) are actual places where I come from. Go wiki it. So we begin.
The Petitioner is the eldest of 3 and probably a descendent of a rice farmer from the Ming Dynasty. The rice farmer might have owned a horse. Born and bred in Cat City*, the capital of the Land of the Hornbills* in the country of A Lot of Food, the Petitioner first wanted to be a fireman but after nearly burning someone's house down by lighting a glittery candle too close to the embroidered gold curtain, changed her mind. The Petitioner also wanted to be a neurosurgeon but was pulled aside and not so quietly told that she did not reach the height requirement qualification in order to become such a surgeon. The fact that the Petitioner believed this source goes to show that perhaps brain surgery was not something the Petitioner should be performing on others.
Among other dream vocations, the Petitioner also wanted to be a Vet, a Baker and/or a Horse Jockey. Apparently being a vet did not go down well with the family and neither did being a Baker. The Jockey dream also went down the pipe when the Petitioner gained 21 kilos after leaving Grade 6.
The Petitioner then found herself shipped to London and discovered that Big Ben isn't as big as its name suggests. Her Waterloo arrived in the form of History, which she thought she had left behind in High School. If she didn't think her tutor was that hot, she would probably have failed the entire thing, considering she thought the Cold War was something that happened in the 1920s and could only recognise one meglomaniac; Hitler. To compensate, the Petitioner took up a 2-in-1 Geography level, also known as "the colouring subject" in addition to Law ad English Literature. The Petitioner still thinks both her English Lit A-Levels tutors were hot too and would go out with the not-so-married option.
After A-Levels and much dreaming of owning a kolo mee stall, the Petitioner got accepted by some God-mandated, fluked logic in the sky, into King's College, London. The Petitioner is nevertheless grateful as her time there has undoubtedly allowed her to grow and be sculptered into the person she is now. The Petitioner also gained invaluable insight in Leicester Square upon realising that Tom Cruise is much shorter than she thought he was.
The Petitioner then returned to the Land of Food and sat for the dreaded CLP exam, nearly wrecking her sanity in the process as she thought it was a useless exam as the Petitioner had no intention of ever becoming a lawyer. After various work experience in various places around Land of the Confluence of Mud* which went from spying on rival Companies to rubbing coffee stains off a wooden table, gradually heightening both the Petitioner's paranoia and OCDness at different intervals in the process, nearly conquering a sleepy mountain and testified battles with a malicious jellyfish, the Petitioner was ready to begin the 9-month long journey of pupillage.
9 months later, the Petitioner has realized that pupillage can still be worse than looking like squashed banana with a dislocated arm and perforated lip, having a near-death bus collision and breaking down at work leading to prescribed muscle relaxants, all rolled into one. The only thing that has managed to persuade the Petitioner to leave work at a decent hour is the unqualified fear that there is a resident ghost roaming the office. At this stage, previous ambition of neurosurgery should be referred to.
The Petitioner would like to thank the following people: her Master Irene Yong (law is genderless), who managed to persuade Shearn Delamore that the applicant in the purple jacket was worth considering, her mover Mr Suaran, her parents and family (without their guidance and sister's persuasion (emotional blackmail), she would probably be a baker by now), her second family SMACC, who made sure she ate and had a social life, her third family ATC CF without whom she wouldn't have bothered getting through the CLP, her chambering peers at Shearn without whom she would have given up halfway and Stephanie Yeo for arranging that dodgy taxi driver that nearly killed me with worse driving skills than mine when I was already half dead and looking like squashed banana (you know I still love you :p).
Last but not at all least, the Petitioner credits everything she is and everything that was and everything that could possibly be, to her LORD and Saviour, Jesus Christ, who is sitting at the right hand of God the Father, the author and perfecter of a broken, stubborn life. The only reason the Petitioner is standing before this honourable Court is through the will of no other and so the Petitioner dedicates this day and all other days to the only person that mattes when everything fades and turns to dust.
There is much talk of justice, much dissention about what is fair and what is not, much fear about stolen rights. The Most High looks on in derision. Who can stand His wrath? Who can measure His glory? Even breath is a poor ally when we are before the Almighty. Therefore, let your words be few and let your minds not be puffed up thinking you already know enough. The Petitioner does not know how long the honourable will continue to be honoured since the One to be honoured above all is left as a spectator in His own court. To the Petitioner, there is no honour in being honoured. There is only honour when our name is found in someone whose Name cannot be questioned. Whose Name will not be questioned, whatever the decision of the honourable Court.
I hope and trusts that all papers are in order and that the Petitioner is a fit and proper person to be admitted to the Bar... else the Petitioner will have to come up with another speech.