Saturday, November 27, 2004
Pun(n)y People
Hokay. So..
Finals are finally over. Chemistry flunked. Biochem is still hanging by a string and genetics will never see the light of day. Yea, i'm stupid for cursing my grades this early of the month, largely attributed to the fact that i've been staring at the computer screen than my notes, so what the hey. Oh, talking about notes, a few weeks ago, some sadistic human being hung a sign above the toilet entrance which read "Going to the toilet should not be the reason for you to part with your notes". Anal (pun intended) huh? Imagine anyone wanting to take a toilet break had to be bogged down by thoughts of 'wasted time'. However, a few days later, the sign went missing. Guess it pissed (pun intended again) some individuals off. True that.
Another thing. Remember our M'sian idol season which ended a couple of months ago? Ok, i'm not in the position to comment on this since i wasn't in the country, but i presume, it was pretty "toned-down" wasn't it? No much hype. No much hullaballoo. And where the heck is Jac now? Where are her public appearances, music videos and singles? I mean, where is our IDOL?? That brings me to the point : S'pore idols are idolised even before they are crowned idols" With the SI finals a few days away, there has been so much media coverage and publicity moves to promote the even itself that the final two contestants, Taufik (a malay!) and Sylvester are now, practically worshipped by their fans. Yes, they have already a fan base. And unlike our m'sian idols, there's a 50-50 chance for either one to clinch the title. So, the competition is really stiff. Even TCS actors are coming out to show their support. THAT is how big the hype is down here. I think in a small island like s'pore is, anything tends to be blown out of proportion in relative the size of the country and it's women. How interesting.
Thursday, November 25, 2004
Four down, One to go
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LYNNIE !!
My finals are almost over. One more paper tomorrow and after that, i'll be burning my chemistry, biochemistry and genetics notes. Such liberating thoughts! Don't know if any of you have heard of this one, but apparently, years ago, after the SPM examinations, a few bunch of girls gathered their ugly pinafore uniforms and held a bonfire with it. On the school field. In the buff. Well...maybe not in the buff but, you get the idea. Too bad right here in nus, the things lacking are an ugly turqouise uniform, a poorly maintained school field and raw guts. Burn baby burn!!
I'll be back for month starting monday next week. But before i make the trip home, there will be tonnes of stuff that i'll have to get. Namely presents. Dunno what's up with mothers, having babies like everyday of the month during the end of the year. Guess they were aiming for the new year or christmas so that they can save on the additional presents and stuff, but, oops, baby's here. (Would it then be suffice to say that year-end babies are opportunists, therefore considerably smarter? Nah...can't be. I was born in may :P)
Things that i'm looking forward to when home :
1. Planning to grow my hair out but i just have to get a hair-something. This is one of those perpetual mysteries of life where a trip to the hair salon simply gives meaning and sense to Life.
2. Mamaking with 'correctly-sized' roti canai and authentic teh tarik.
3. Shopping! (another one of life's mysteries)
4. Get my biological clock repaired and sleeping patterns adjusted and GET PROPER FOOD!!
5. Meeting up with friends. (Will u gals be free?). Chip too.
6. Head to Kustem to settle some unfinished business. Meet Ruth. Gosh, that place keeps popping up like a nightmare.
7. Was thinking of some trip to the fireflies. Friends from nus coming for a visit.
8. Speak proper english. haha..and you'd have thought.
9. [blank]
10. [blank]
Will plan more as the time comes. So far, i'm still bogged down by exams and stupid cheem-istry. Dunno how am i gonna retain the scholarship if my grades goes on downhill like this. Played this sem like the fool and now paying the price for it.
Saturday, November 20, 2004
Made in Nippon
This, my dears, is my current staple diet during the exam season. Since i'm like stuck whole day in the library and too lazy to get out to eat something substantial, this is what i've been munching on for my daily sugar intake.
I'm guilt-ridden to say - they are soo darn cute! Chocolatey goodness coated in baby-pink-strawberry-flavoured-sugar-coated-whatever. And it was even noted on the packaging that the pink stuff is really made out of dried strawberries instead of phony food additives. *clap clap* I think the Japanese manufactured them because it reminded them of Mt Fuji and that they are suckers for nationalism. And notice also the ubiquitous japanese food selling gimmick, the pacifier sucking chocolate eared thingy holding on to his milk bottle for dear life. So sickly adorable but i've yet to figure out why on earth. I'm keeping the box for further investigation.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Somebody's Fool
Sometimes, what's worse than being a Nobody is to be Somebody's somebody.
You're Charlie Chia's daughter?
Aren't you Sue Lynn's sister? (which is normally followed by a full-body eye scan and a smirk)
Hey, so you're So-n-So's friend huh?
or
Hi, you must be Sue Ann, right? (nods) Yea. Wong Su-Ann isn't it?
Oops.
It is always times like these when i wished i was just simply invisible, non-existent than be a someone of somebody. I'd rather not have a name than being the less luminous half of a duo. Imagine how would Cola feel if he's just being known as Coca's pal? A drink called Coca and Pal and Cola will fade into obscurity. Just an insignificant pal he is. Imagine how would Spencer feel? Or W? Or Jerry? Or Robin (whom shall now be referred to as Batman's gay partner. Prof Ian said so.)? Or Ben Affleck?
Ask anyone who has constantly been known as someone else's somebody and you'll see how hurt they can be. It's like you're identity-less. Compared to your 'referee', you're simply occupying space. Makes you just wanna bury your head into the sand or stomp off and leave. It's like what you see in movies too. You'll never have Frasier Crane in a supporting role next to Niles (whom both are just as obnoxious and British). Nor will you see Kelly kicking Beyonce's ass.
It's always nice if someone actually knows your name and sincerely knows who you are. That people actually take the effort to register your name in their heads, makes you feel...wanted. It's funny how people can remember a name like Condoleeza Rice and forget something simple like Sue Ann. 6 letters. 2 N's. 1 space. Is it really that hard? Man, you must be really stupid.
Friday, November 12, 2004
Obssession
So, they said that s'pore is a shrinking population right? At which the numbskull government decided in taking action against it and imposed a law on the women, telling them " No, ladies, the medical profession is not for you. You be a good girl and go get hitched and stay at home and cook some lovely chicken chops and knit sweaters and make beautiful babies for your hubby alrighty? And don't ask why you were given a uterus and a vagina."
Well..that's besides the point. The cause for this dilemma is not simply because some nubile young successful women mysteriously lost their libido and decided to boycott sex. No. No way. S'porean girls? Never. The fact that s'pore is shrinking faster than an ill-knitted sweater made by your Stepford wife going on spins in the dryer is..... have you turned on the television lately?
So there i was, bored out of my insignificant mind, trying to get a good boost from the TV when i had the sudden compulsion to count the amount of slimming commercials aired in a 5-minute commercial time slot. It got to me that i was seeing more people talking about how small they want their asses to be than the bigger better toyota they should be driving so i decided to keep track.
3 in a 5-minute commercial break. 3! freaking commercials showing how previously plump-ish girls suddenly 'saw the light' and screwed the money factor and got sucked and groped and drilled till they are a size 0. "And so, my husband was like, daymn, i'm the luckiest guy in the world!" And i was like, damn, woman, you married the wrong guy! Amazing how they brainwash people here, on a 10pm family hour TV sitcom slot, reiterating to young naive 10-year-olds "listen up baby, you aint got no honey if you aint got the body". I mean, what the ****? It's times like these when i realise that m'sia has more sense and sensibility in their implementations and actions, where people are given the FREEDOM to THINK and EVALUATE and be DEMOCRATIC in their thoughts, unlike some, erm, places.
Well, that was one instance of the extremity you find yourself in right in the lion city. On the other end of the spectrum, they i was, stumbling back from FS at 4am in the morning, after charmaine and sarah had a sudden urge for burgers and i decided WTH, i needed to get out of my room anyway. So there we were, having supper at 3am in the morning, happily chatting away, oblivious to the fact that our arteries were clotting with each bite of the oil-drenched Ramly-esque burger and each sip of condensed milk ladened iced milo. Oh man, we're so going to hell.
Plea #1
Anybody have some social skills to spare? I need some . Desperately.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Nost al Gia
It's strange how nostalgia drags you into the realms of the past, letting you taste the bittersweetness of what it was like to be someone yesterday.
Mom emailed today, saying that she's feeling the tug of reality that life really is a cycle. Solitude-courtship-marriage-having kids-watching them grow up-letting them go-solitude again. Dad, Lynn and she will be leaving this weekend for a beach retreat at Bali and i had asked her if she was psyched for it. She shrugged, and said that there won't be much preparation to do after all. "Huh, why?" Apparently, she has come to a point of realisation that this time, she has only her own stuff to pack. And no one else's, unlike before when she'll be on her toes, nagging us kids to get our checklists done and marking them out and stuffing our clothes into her suitcase.
Whoa.
That struck me.
I've never seen mom in that light before. No, not as someone who keeps vigil over us all these while. Not as someone who has made it a point, a habit to ensure that her children are all safe and sound and out of trouble. It's like clockwork. I've never realised that as a mother, she'll have so much in her mind, so much responsibility on her shoulders. It doesn't come with the job description, no siree. She simply just chose to do it. And all these while i thought Mom was simply...Mother.
So much has changed since i left home four months ago. Not that long, but long enough to make me straighten things out. Things that i never knew were there had somehow, creeped up and get themselves tangled up in my heartstrings. It's tough to come to the realisation and fact that i'll have to be away from home for another 4 more years. It seems way too long a time to arrive at the end.
Nostalgia : We are shaped by the past more than we can fully understand it - and ever more decisively than when we think we have put those events behind us and moved on.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
As The Sun Sets
My room looked so bloody damn beautiful this afternoon. The setting sun was streaming in through the venetian blinds, splashing the walls with a vibrant orange hue. It was the perfect view to wake up from a nap to.
my eyes were closed bcoz it was so 'blindingly' bright
as i have mentioned, sundays in NUS or TH for that matter is the most absurdly, incredibly, mind-numbingly boring day in the history of mankind. Nothing seems to move or twitch around here, except for a few annoyingly busy chirping birds, everything is soo DEAD. Well, the best consolation that i can give myself is that everyone must be sleeping in (until 4pm??) and that i should be sleeping too. But, the harsh reality that i've been reluctant to discover is that people around here are already burying their heads in books since 4am in the morning. And, yep, i'm still here, staring into blank space, admiring the stupid sunset.
Friday, November 05, 2004
Sigh for me
Sometimes you've just gotta trust your instincts.
When you realise that you can't trust the person anymore...don't go near them
When you realise that you can't fix things...don't even try
When you realise that you can't fit right in...be square
I just realised that people here are anal about being perfect but they just can't see for themselves. It's like being equipped with a looking glass and not knowing how to function it. Ironic aint it. Being in this place, i think the only way to not conform is to be as imperfect as possible. Be the kid with the roundest ass and the ugliest haircut. Be the kid with a dress sense that puts Ronald McD to shame. Be the kid with the least amount of stamina, the one who could never run a mile. Be the kid that never seems to get things right. Be the kid who sleeps at 10 at night and wakes up in time for breakfast. This is exactly the place where imagination and creativity suffocate and die.
I'm missing home so much. M'sia is such a CASUAL place to be in. You don't have to strain so hard to let the others notice that you exist. I just had the most absurd eureka moment the other day that i'm sooooooo stuck in this place. Stuck doesn't even begin to describe how it is. More like, strangled. I'm dying each moment here (ok fine, death sounds too harsh. try unconventional-form-of-the-cessation-of-life) The only thing that summons my strength to kick my way out is the mere thought of my homecoming at the end of this month. But thing is, chip will not even be around during the first week that i'll be home. I mean, what the shit? I'll only be home for like, 3 weeks and you're not gonna be around for 1/3 of it? Sigh.
I better get back to my chem report. Heard from some guy he took like 1 whole day to get the thing done. Which ultimately means, i'll not be going to bed again tonight.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
The Guy That Lives Below
You know how stories, horror stories are written about That Guy that Lives Below? No, not that horny one. He's too far down. I'm talking about that one disaparity of life that always seem to place a guy who is equally as pathetic and as he is egoistic in the room RIGHT below you. With atrocious singing abilities too.
So, as i was saying, this TGTLB does indeed exist. How else could you not know when he wakes you up at 10am in the morning, singing along to LeAnn Rimes' "Can't Fight the Moonlight"? On a Sunday. Don't ask me why he has a penchant for singing songs which are 3 octaves above his normal voice range (which also brings me to the word 'egoistic' as i mentioned before). Trust me, when he starts belting (squealing) out "This Thing Called Love" by The Darkness, a song that was never meant to be 'sung' in the first place, all hell breaks loose. I start to loose my abilities to think and write straight and i start to have this strong compulsion to stomp downstairs, bang on his door and smash his over-inflated head and ego with a Siggo bottle. Oooh, the mere thought of it brings such contentment!
But, of course, being the respectable, calm and collected neighbour as i was, i did no such thing. Desperate situations call for subtle manoeuvres instead. So, just when i detect Silence from down below (which would normally be at 3 or 4am in the morning), i 'll just oh-s0-meekly drag my chair, from the door all the way to my table and slide it under my desk with a loud thump, all the while making sure that i produce enough volume to paralyse or at least wake the poor guy up. Or if i had a rotten day, i'll resort to playing my "Baby Elephant Walk" all across the floor, thumping and life out of TGTLB and dropping significantly hard and metallic things on the floor with might, just to make sure he gets the message. Unfortunately, as far as guys and subtlety go, nothing works. He still continues making life miserable, squealing his heart out to every single tune which he plays ON REPEAT on his mp3's. Oh, and i have to report that recently, he has started to fall in love with the sound of his burbs as well. Yea, Mr. TGTLB holds burp fests in the wee hours of the morning, a sign that he's been having way to much curry for dinner and maggi for supper.
So, while i formulate more sure fire plans to bomb this sucker out of his hole, i'll just sign off now. Apparently, he's stopped singing, so i can ultimately get back to work. Thank goodness.
