Swensensicality

Whoops.

2009-05-26T12:18:00.005+08:00

Me: I'm sorry to hear about the bill situation.
Mom: Yes. Nasty Africans.
Me: Mom! That's racist. And by the way, your tenants were Arabs, not Africans.
Mom: Arab is part of the African continent what.
Me: No, mom. It's in the Middle East.
Mom: Oh, ok then. Nasty Arab girls.

Mom has got to learn that the word 'nasty' has got a cruddy connotation in the 21st century, especially when paired with the term 'girls'.

Perfect

2009-05-25T00:36:00.008+08:00

In what ways, can I tell you that you could be perfect for me?

That you have a wonderful laugh?

That you're amazingly committed?

That our paths could have crossed in so many ways?

That seeing you just makes me happy?

And that, if only you knew.

The Hoot

2009-05-19T21:03:00.003+08:00

Some people just cannot help informing others about the jealous-worthy events in their lives.

I don't care if you have an awesome social circle.
I don't care if you have spectacular events that you go to.
I don't care if have 1,196 friends on Facebook.
I don't care if you have every guy in town at your beck and call.
I don't care if you turned George Clooney down on a date.

Frankly, I really don't give a hoot about what you do and who you do it with. So would you please kindly, shut up.

Seriously.

Confucius say, "Shit happens."

2009-05-18T23:45:00.009+08:00

Some people just lack the sensitivity chip. Or, they are just socially inept.

A: You can't fit a size 8.
Me: I know. I'm a size 12.
A: I'm a size 0.
Me: I can see that.
A: I'm much, much thinner than you are.
Me: Gee, no kidding.
A: You know, you can, like, go on a diet. An intensive diet.
Me: Or, you know, you can, like, fuck off.
A: I'm born with good genes. I don't need to diet.
Me: ...
A: I'm a size 0.

Big "Bang" Theory?

2009-04-14T23:24:00.020+08:00

Well, here's a funny story.

After two months of being hopelessly hooked on the relatively obscure TV series, Big Bang Theory, it frustrated me to no end that after all these while, I still couldn't decide between Leonard and Sheldon. As to which was, for the lack of a better term, hotter.

(L: Dr. Leonard Hofstadter; R: Dr. Sheldon Cooper)

After observing this unnerving behaviour of mine for a couple more webisodes, I started to notice a trend. Apparently, my see-sawing preference between Leonard and Sheldon was not random and whimsical. No. It had a more deep-rooted, Biological reason:

My alternating attraction to the lead male casts of BBT mirrored the contrasting phases of my menstrual cycle.

Yup. Apparently, BBT was like a litmus test to my pre/post-ovulatory sexual preference. All I needed was a laptop, the internet and BBT (and of course, a functioning hypothalamus). And I found out, that during the pre-ovulatory phases (two months' worth of BBT is a pretty poor sample size but I'll give it a shot), I was more drawn towards the Leonard character. And then, after swooning over Leonard for a couple more webisodes (across a period of 2 weeks or less), bam! Suddenly, Sheldon's hot. And that's when I'll know I'm done ovulating.

Pretty awesome, eh?

(Disclaimer: This is a pretty pointless observation, with no actual proven scientific backing and hence, should be taken with a pinch of salt. And sorry that I made numerous references to my menstrual cycle. It was uncalled for, I know.)

You.

2008-11-09T16:45:00.006+08:00

I dreamt of you yet again.

I don't know your name, neither do I know how you look like. Heck, I don't even know if you exist! But in my dream, there you were standing right next to me, breathing in the same air. I know I've met you before, somewhere in time. It's weird, i know. And somehow, i kinda get the feeling that you're out there, 'knowing' me too.

Who are you? No. I think the question should be 'Where are you?'

It would be a pity, if I carried on not meeting you in this lifetime. Wouldn't you feel that it would be such a waste of breaths and heartbeats? To have lived a life and not getting to know the person you've been dreaming about? And i'm not talking about daydreams, which are merely bullshit fantasies. I'm talking about full-blown, subconscious-fueled , interpretation-hungry d-r-e-a-m-s. The ones where you wake up from, wondering if you've left a life (albeit a more meaningful one) behind.

You had these hands that would hold onto mine so tightly, it was as if you knew you and I were in a dream and that you'd lose me again if i woke up. I held on too. We were running, through a labyrinth of corridors and alleyways. And you did not, for once, turn and look back. You kept running and I followed.

We were always running in my dreams. What were we running away from? What were we running towards?

We finally came to a place surrounded by people. Your friends, i presumed. We were suddenly not running anymore. Yet, you held on and i clung onto you for dear life. I stood there, drinking in your smell, your presence, while you mingled.

Am I going crazy? Are you only a fragment of my imagination? ('Fragment' would be an understatement at this point.)

My questions beg to be answered.

Finally

2008-11-04T23:19:00.003+08:00

I finally saw you. You. For who you are, who you have been all these while.

I can't say that i'm absolutely certain about what you've said. What you've written.

I'm merely guessing.

But if i'm right and if it's true,

then, yes.

I miss you too.

Round-up

2008-11-02T02:35:00.003+08:00

Gosh.

I didn't expect myself to be writing again. Not this soon. I thought i'd still be having a writer's block (not that i'm much of a writer anyway), but here i am, scribbling away at 2.30 in the morning.

So where do i re-start...

I'm doing good. Not great. Not yet. Or maybe it will never be 'great' while i'm still here in Singapore. I dunno. I feel trapped. Stifled. I need another direction, an escape. But in any other sense, i'm still here, doing my thing.

I'm an editor now. Of Biology/Chemistry books. Not much of a digression from my vocation but it's still not what i'm looking for in the long run. But it'll do for now.

Daddy's gone to Vietnam in search of greener pastures. Jinn's stopping over at Abu Dhabi before making the escape to Melbourne for the next three years (and more). Mom's staying back home, manning an empty nest. And Lynn's here with me. So in a nutshell, my family's all over the place. But at least, we're all still within the confines of Asia.

And I'm still single. Haha...oh...well. Maybe it's for the better, since i now need the time to settle and make amends some things in my own life first before i start messing up somebody else's. But that doesn't mean i'm not looking. I'm definitely looking at some.

...

Oh crap, i lost my train of thought again. Or maybe...i simply have not enough thoughts to sustain this post with. But that's impossible. If i remembered correctly, my thoughts and imagination have been running wild for the past year. Wild, i tell you! Maybe that's why i've been a no-show in writing. I've been too busy trying to round them up.

Maybe next time.

Stupid

2007-10-06T02:39:00.000+08:00

Every girl is bound to have this one boy who is like kryptonite to her.

She knows fully well that he's bad news and has and will crush her. Yet, she just can't give him up. She's hooked. Drawn to him like a moth to light, and she eventually, singes and burns to nothingness.

She has never felt or done anything remotely dumb or gullible, but that is what she is whenever he's around. Helplessly stupid. Nothing but hollow words and empty phrases, which makes her cringe when she replays the entire conversation up in her head. Over and over and over again.

She searches for clues, answers. But he's a wall. He reveals nothing yet he takes everything. Selfish. Self-ful. She hangs on to his every word even though experience told her she would be a fool to trust. He knows her weakness and he makes use of it. She knows her weakness but she's still looking for his, to break even.

No luck. He's not giving.

Damn you, kryptonite.

Blue Caravan

2007-07-14T03:52:00.000+08:00

I was staying up late again the other night and while surfing through a whole slew of songs on the net, stumbled upon this really interesting find: Vienna Teng

I dunno...there's something of a je ne sais quoi about her, her voice, her songs, her disposition. It could somehow bring me to a point of wanting to go forth and make an album like that. Record a demo album and send it off to some record company and making a music video without me in it. I belong there. I'm meant to do this, this folk jazz stuff. I can't sit and wait no more. Not like this.

Blue, blue caravan
Winding down to the valley of lights
My true love is a man
Who would hold me for ten thousand nights

In the wild, wild wailing of wind
He's a house 'neath a soft yellow moon
So blue, blue caravan
Won't you carry me down to him soon

Blue, blue caravan
Won't you drive away all of these tears
For my true love is a man
That i haven't seen in years

He said,
"Go where you have to,
For i belong to you until my dying day"
So like a fool, blue caravan, i believed him
And i walked away

Oh, my blue, blue caravan
The highway is my great wall
For my true love is a man
Who never existed at all

Oh, he was a beautiful fiction
I invented to keep out the cold
But now, my blue, blue caravan
I can feel my heart growing old

Twilight Zones

2007-03-29T05:05:00.000+08:00

Yea...so, it's now 5.14 in the morning and i just signed up for the "People who don't sleep enough because they stay up late for no reason" group on Facebook. Now, there's a group for people like us. Fantastic. Just lovely.

It reads:

"It's 5am, you're still up. You have no good reason to be up. You have to wake up at 8:30 in the morning. You know you're going to be tired as hell the next day but you just can't bring yourself to go to sleep like everyone else. You're not really an insomniac, you just have some mental block when it comes to going to bed.

Who needs 8 hours of sleep anyway? If you live to be 90, that's 30 years of your life spent unconscious, right? That's bullshit. You can spend the time better. Besides, you're too busy in the day, you can only relax at night. If you've ever rationalized your needless lack of sleep this way, you belong in this group."

Seriously, it's a disease. Nothing really explains our bizarre behavioral practices, nothing other than our persistent procrastination of going to bed. It's not that we're lazy (c'mon...); it's something deeper, more psychological. More sinister, really.

At 5am in the morning, your brain goes into autopilot mode. Nothing around you makes sense anymore. The barking of dogs, the metallic hum of our neighbour's air-conditioner, the glare of the computer screen: it all congeals into a blob of intangible plasm. Nothing registers. You're in a spaced-out zone of routine-clicking of the mouse and typing of insensible words on the keypad (which interestingly, are comprehensible by your fellow night-walkers on MSN). And the funny thing is, once the clock strikes 5am, you can forget about putting yourself to sleep anymore. No matter how hard you try, how physically exhausted you may be, you can toss and turn till the sun comes shining through your naked blinds and sleep just never comes.

...it's 5.30am now.

*Types asidjoaiwueowireowenmdkfwqoieuqowindoihci and deletes. Repeats twice.*

*Glances around the room while thinking of the POSSIBILITY of sleep*

OoOooohh wait....

Someone just signed-in on MSN.

Great.

Transient

2007-03-12T16:20:00.000+08:00

I miss him, a lot, lately.

I know, i should be shooting myself in the head for posting this after all these years, but i shall indulge. Who knows, maybe when the time comes to really really forget or when the embarrassment of sounding like such a knucklehead becomes too overwhelming, i will eventually delete this post.

But at the meantime, just let me be.

Dreams are the culprit. I have no idea why, or how but my unconscious self kept on reenacting the times of when we were still a couple. It would mesh different scenes together and as a whole, weaved the illusion that we were back together again. And the dreams do get so realistic that when i eventually wake up, I'd get all nostalgic and fuzzy all over. Very sneaky, me!

And that surprise sms he sent me a month ago just got the ball rolling again. Suddenly, i was seeing him everywhere. On the bus, queuing for food, the guy at that corner in the lecture theatre. It was pure torture. Ok fine, not torture per se. But imagine having to see someone you're trying to forget popping up in all places and having to go through a mini seizure everytime that happens. That's pretty disturbing already.

*Epiphany*

Hey, but you know what..

Maybe i don't want to forget you after all.
Maybe the dreams meant something: I've been a fool for shutting out a friend.
Maybe we would do just fine, or even better as friends.
Maybe by pushing you away, i began to realize that having you around actually makes more sense.

Maybe you could give me a buzz when you're back

Maybe we could go grab a bite or two.

Maybe.

mon cherie

2007-02-15T02:25:00.000+08:00

I know this is day late but...

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DEARIES!!

Here's something...

ma Valentine
Uploaded by Nitoo2110

Simple Pleasures

2006-11-18T09:43:00.000+08:00

It was just one of those days where everything fitted nicely like pieces to a puzzle. The weather was absolutely beautiful, with the sun shining and the haze cleared and all that. So gorgeous, that i actually missed the bus because i was so busy snapping pictures of the spectacle. But i didn't care. I simply needed to capture the fleeting view before the rain came and washed the colors away.

Talking about colors, just the other day, i decided to grab a cup of beetroot-apple juice on the way back from lectures (science fac makes the best fruit juices on campus anyway). And while i was happily sipping away, i happened to look down and lo and behold, an accidental color-coordination! My nail color was just shades darker than the drink itself, but the same hue nonetheless. And burgundy on pink has such a girlish esthetic to it. To say that i was pleasantly surprised is an understatement. Naturally, i couldnt let the moment pass, or should i say, i just couldn't sit and let the ice melt and dilute the color of the juice. So, standing in the middle of the pathway and stupidly trying to juggle a cup of juice, notefiles and a handphone, i snapped away.

In case you're wondering, i finally got my supply of Prednisolone, that's why. Prof. Wong calls them miracle pills and i couldn't agree with him more.

Baby Bro's Bday

2006-11-10T21:38:00.000+08:00

It's that time of the year again,

HAPPY 17th BIRTHDAY, JINNY BOY!

Che-che loves you lots. Lots.

(And all the best in your SPM, kiddo)

Deep Down Dumpsterville

2006-11-03T19:49:00.000+08:00

"I thought i've hit rock bottom. But then i realised that there is Rock Bottom, 50 feet of crap and then, me. " -Rachel Green

I think this is the first time i've come clean about my eczema situation and how badly it's affecting me all these while. It's a wierd liberating feeling, but at the same time, it's sad to finally admit that yet not being able to do much about it. So far, i reckon this week's been one of the worst for me and i hope this is the furthest eczema can go to screw up a person's life. I shall not go into details as to how bad it really is right now, but to clue you in, i'll just say that i'm a walking freakshow, that's what i am.

Wawa came over just now to see how i was doing and all i can say is that i'm so bloody thankful that i've still got wonderful girlfriends right here, in cold, hard, heartless Singapore. Nothing quite beats a therapeutic heart-to-heart talk. Sigh, i miss having a fixed telephone line so that i can talk endlessly to someone without worrying about the bill. And MSN Messenger doesn't really quite cut it because nothing is personal and sentimentality just gets obliterated over the chatroom. And besides, you'll want to just talk to one person, not manage a mini conference (and no, i don't have Live Messenger coz my IE is screwed up). So yea, as i was saying, things pretty much got out of hand since my last post. I've run out of my Prednisone pills and now just relying on anti-histamines to quell the itch. Social life: non-existent, since i don't get out of my room that often except to pee, shit, go for lectures and collect my pre-paid hall meals. Pretty pathetic, i know. But hey, solitude is so much better than being stared at.

Speaking of being stared-at, i'm thinking of getting one of those "Eczema-voice" badges, like this one :

At GBP2.50 for 10, they are really cute "Please Don't Stare At Us" badges for kids. I'm gonna hook 'em up on my bag, my shirts and outside my door, like a national flag because i'm not really that proud of either one of them. They should have made it in a brighter color though, like fuschia-on-canary-yellow and not a clinical blue-on-white, so that people can actually see it and take note. But then again, if they are staring, they'll probably notice it anyway.

And as for those ignoramuses, here's the 4-1-1 : eczema is not your regular run-of-the-mill rash, as in pop a pill, splash on some calamine and you'll be good as new. Don't you just hate it when people come up to you and say "Just don't scratch it" or "Control the itch!"? Hypocrites! When it's their turn, they are the ones who scratch their asses off because of a mosquito bite or two and are happy to give us an earful about how they much they hate mosquitoes and insects and blah blah blah. Fyi, insects have been roaming the earth before humans went bipedal and hmm, i don't think they care very much about you hating them. So live with it! Oh, and lets see how much 'self-control' you'll have when you're covered top-to-toe in mozzie bites. Then, you'll have an INKLING of what eczema feels like to us.

Finally, got that off my *well-endowed* chest. ("Puh-leease" you said?)

Anyway, Wawa, just wanted to tell you that i'm feeling much much better after that chat with you. Look, i can think straight enough to write a blog already! And thanks for the coffee, caffeine really makes life worth living for, although it's kinda making my hands tremble as i type. I've seriously gotta quit the java, man!

Ill-Fitting Genes

2006-10-20T19:30:00.000+08:00

First thing first,

I wanna see a medical doctor who's techno savvy. We have CT Scans, Heart Transplants, Neurosurgeons...but a doctor who writes, without using MS Word? I wanna see a doctor who not just saves people's lives but also people the torture of having to decipher his hieroglyphics of a handwriting. A doctor who uses a laptop, types in his prescriptions and sends the them to the nurses via MSN. That'd be awesome. Otherwise, there'll be no way we, advanced genetic biomedical scientists, who one day may come up for a cure for cancer, would want to be associated with people who still thinks mechanical pencils are cool.

That said, let me move on.

I've got a Major Sucky Week forecast coming up. While people in my home country are busy with their Deeparaya holiday plans, i'm stuck here having to figure out what testis size have to do with the mating systems of non-human primates. And on top of that, i'm hit with another bout of depression. And to top it all off, my eczema condition just got worse (no thanks to steroid treatments). It's crazy how this whole thing started off with just another bad itch and culminating into me not being able to ~~attend lectures~~ go out just because i'm embarrased with the way i look right now. And what's making me contemplate on locking myself in with a double latch? Having a sibling who dipped into the same gene pool and still model-perfect, a mother who's gorgeous as heck and whom i bear absolutely no resemblance to, a friend who's been asked out on a super hot date by a super hot guy lately and another one who's been on dates since lord-knows-when. And here i am, stuck in a room, barren as ever.

Frustrated with my condition, I then googled and found out that apparently, my eczema problem is actually a disorder caused by a genetic mutation (MUTATION, baby!) This gene mutation then causes the depletion of a protein called filaggrin, which is normally found on the outerlayers of the skin and functions to form a protective layer at the surface of the skin that keeps water in and keeps foreign organisms out. So, without this layer of filaggrin, there is an impaired formation of the skin barrier foreign substance can easily enter the skin and cause a inflammtory response. "Leaky" skin, as they called it, nicely complements my "leaky" brains.

Skin with filaggrin antibodies

My skin

(Images courtesy of www.mattek.com)

And apparently, since it's genetic, one of my parents must have been carrying a single gene mutation for filaggrin and would experience dry and flaky skin (hmm...i wonder which one). Moreover, the only way to completely annhilate eczema is to undergo gene therapy, which would take years to be developed and decades to be approved of. I'd be my own grandchild by then.

Sigh...at least this will answer the age-old question for us eczema sufferers :

WHY?

(doesn't quite answer "Why me?" though)

Paying the Rant

2006-10-14T00:25:00.000+08:00

Singapore is a funny island. While the rest of the world is trying to move forward from the dreadful shoulder pads, big hair and synthesizer music, this country is experiencing a full-fledged 80s revival. From horrendous mambo music and and brain numbingly stupid dance moves come wednesday, this place makes you want to stuff pentiums into their heads and burn the patent leather. It's insane! Everywhere you go, from radio stations to iTunes, Belinda Carlisle and Bananarama incessantly jam their fugly tunes into your head. And they are annoyingly catchy and stay in your head for longer than you want them to. *WohoOooh, square rooooooom* They have resurrected the undead, zombified music of yesteryear. Ugh, just makes you want to ban hairsprays.

Talking about the (un)dead, i just realised that almost nobody actually reads this blog of mine (which is ironic since i'm still posting this). It's almost like a ghost blogtown, where the occasional unlucky reader wanders off the beaten track and stumbles upon this ruin, gets turned off by it's distasteful postings and writer, and scurries along to greener pastures, vowing never to make a return. Which is also great in a way, since i can therefore have the liberty of ranting and complaining about almost everything and everyone and not get blasted or sued or banned. But c'mon, why then would i want to have a online journal, accessible by, ahem, the entire world, if not for the fact that i want to let known my rants and raves?! I have an ego to serve, and a pretty huge one at that too. And in fact, i never really got to getting myself one of those site-meter-thingamabobs because i'll definitely be crushed to see a number lower than my IQ.

So then, what should i do to lure more people into this dying blog of mine? Well...

For one, i will post more frequently, even though that'll mean something like :

I had chicken sandwich for lunch today and my lecturer said that testosterone is a handicap. Therefore, i'm thankful i'm not a guy, nor the chicken. The end.

And seeing how some blogs boost their ratings by posting rolls of (provocative) pictures in it, i'll jump on that bandwagon too, and come up with more of something like :

(Sorry dude, it's the most 'provocative' one of myself i can find. Not a 'provocative' person.....ahh......so THAT explains the non-existent blog ratings)

So there.

That should boost some ratings.

And if it doesnt, it goes to prove something else : You're currently wearing a purple top with shoulder pads of an NFL player paired with patent red pumps, listening to "Heaven is a Place on Earth" and chewing gum. Oh, and if you look in the mirror, you have a puffed-up fringe and badly drawn fuschia lipliner. Groovy baby.

Idiocy

2006-09-29T17:05:00.000+08:00

Just the other day, i had a wonderful quote brewing in my head. Oh, you couldn't have believed how brilliant it was. To put it simply, it was so brilliant, i thought my IQ just increased 30 points just by thinking about it. And then, something interesting happened. My memory failed me again and i totally forgot what it was!! So now, i've to relegate to writing something totally shallow without an ingenius quote prelude.

Anyway, so here i am, back in hall after a week-long hiatus back home. And lately, i've started to accept the grim fact that i'll most probably, or as Joey would say it, supposably never get to enjoy my american lit classes ever. Well, for one, i feel like an outsider for being the only science geek in a class of arty-farty literature majors or at least, arts students. And second of all, the lecturer is a zany neo-buddhist. You know, one of those guys whom when you start a conversation with something simple like, "Hey, how's the coffee?", he'll reply you with a mind-numblingly Zen answer like, "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" or... something of that sort. I mean, it's different if you're ACTUALLY Zen because then, we'll just know you're not supposed to make sense and give up listening to you altogether. But when you mix The Matrix and American political humor, you totally just lose it. The students, i mean. Here we are, trying to make sense out of the whole text we're supposed to be reading, and now we have to decipher YOU as well?

So you see, this entire week is served up to make me feel like a complete idiot. And worse thing is, it's only Monday :(

Boo! (Part 1)

2006-09-02T00:45:00.000+08:00

The following post is going to be rather disturbing for some people. So, those of you who have trouble with spooks, please do not proceed beyond the dotted line.

For those who do proceed to dabble in the paranormal...please count your blessings at the end of this and don't judge me because i'm wierd.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm haunted.

Either that, or i'm extremely ~~fuc~~ messed up.

I would have given up on sleep altogether if not for me being so human. I know what sleep does to me. It makes me scared. Scared that i might drown in it and reality will seem like an impossibility. Why? Let me give you a blow-by-blow account of my nightmares then.

The Paramount of Fear
Just the other day, I was taking a nap in my dorm room. It was like any normal afternoon nap, sunshiny outside and cozy on the inside. An hour or so into the nap, i was awoken by a sudden draft of fear ('awoken' doesnt seem like the proper word since i was in and out of consciousness throughout the whole thing). Not any kind of fear, it was one of those that makes the hairs on your back stand because i could sense a presence in my room. Hence, I started chanting like mad and just as i did, i heard scratching sounds on the mattress next to my head. The kind you make when you scratched on cloth if you had really long fingernails (try it, the mere sound of it is spooky. turn of the lights for enhanced effect). Then, it stopped. And through my semi-conscious-half-squint, i could make out that my door, out of reasons i could not comprehend at that moment, was slowly being pushed open. As if someone or something was gingerly trying to sneak in. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to will whatever was happening away. As i peeled my eyes open for the third time, my door was ajar and lo and behold, standing at the doorway was a six-feet tall sillhouette of a man, all pitch black, staring right into my room (or so i think that was where his face was). I remember quite clearly that he had a square metallic piece of something stuck onto his chest. I dunno what...or why. I tried screaming but only soft cries managed to escape my mouth. I was practically frozen in place as the sillhouette of a man inched towards me, first slowly and then picking up speed. I screamed and screamed so much i ran out of breath (funny, and i made no sound at all) and before i knew it, he was whisking past my bed and out he went through the window. And then, i jolted awake, for good this time. My first reaction was to check around, and as usual, my door was still firmly shut and my blinds were still down. A dream perhaps? Nah, too real. But that reminds me to always latch the door whenever i sleep or else the Uninvited will all the more be happy to pay a visit.

The Voice
Just like the previous one, i was taking a nap in the afternoon (damn, i sleep too much) back home when suddenly i was awoken by the very same sense of fear. Someone was in my room....again. Fuck, first it was NUS and now, you've followed me all the way back to KL? Damn you stalker. Anyway, through my usual half-squint, i tried to look around for anything that might be the cause of it. And just then, i heard something soooo distinct, it could NOT have been a dream. It was the voice of a man, very deep, a bit like my granduncle's. Right above my head (i was sleeping on a lazyboy chair), it said, "Xing jia po de ta men yao lai le" .What? "Xing jia po the ta men yao lai le". For the uninitiated, it meant, "Those from s'pore are coming". Shit, to KL? By what, the 'underground' train?? His voice did not have the sort of a declarative tone to it, but more like a sinister don't-worry-child-they-are-coming-soon kinda tone. For the sceptical, who think it's just my messed up mind playing tricks on me, tell me, would i retain a sentence as wierd as that in my head? No. So....now, i not only have a personal spook, i have the whole entourage of them. Great. Juuuust great.

Sigh..it's getting kinda late and writing these stuff is really getting my nerves all frazzled up again. I'll try to squeeze in more next time (YES, there's more). So at the meantime, pray people. Pray hard.

I hate work

2006-07-11T16:25:00.000+08:00

Oh fk, they took away my holiday again.

I have a theory that, students should not spend their holidays working. Heck, they should not be working in the first place. Why? Considering that you'll be working your bloody arse off for the rest of your bloody life, why waste the only time you have to be young trying to be old....and working? But if they are willing to pay you two thousand bucks for a month's worth of wasting your youth away, then that's acceptable. Otherwise, ask your boss to go wipe the shat off the elepant's arse.

I'm being bitter, yes, and that's because i'm being called back to s'pore to indulge in some child labour scheme again. 20 hours a day, 7 days a week, with no pay and only bread and butter for breakfast, we commit ourselves to a megalomaniac of a project, only to win a stupid game. I may sound like i'm lacking the much coveted hall spirit, but come on, any person in their right frame of mind would not, never do what we people do : lose sleep to build a float during your summer holidays. And obviously, i was not in the right frame of mind when i agreed to.

Children, please screw part-time work and go enjoy yourself. Unless if it's absolutely necessary, and by necessary, i mean, if your dad needs the money for his next fix or your mom for her 5th nose job, don't go wasting your precious time being someone else's part-time slave. Go on a holiday, laze around at home, watch tv till your hears buzz or go shopping. Nothing can take away your childhood and youth more than work itself. It's not your time yet to earn that piece of money. Your parents don't need that measly 500 bucks of yours nor is it enough to get you your PSP. And moreover, you'll be doing your dad a favour by giving him the credit of being the breadwinner of the house. You wouldn't want to steal his thunder, would you?

What about the working experience, you might ask? Well....your parents never did have any prior experience of being parents before they actually became parents, did they? And you are still alive, aren't you?

2006-07-05T21:28:00.000+08:00

I hate myself
But at times, i feel people hate me more than i do myself.

I hate that people do not see me as me
But as somebody else's somebody

Feeling good about yourself is admirable
But when does it border on delusion and illusion?

twentytwo

2006-05-03T22:19:00.000+08:00

Ahh....the luxury of non-communal toilets, i'm finally home. Everything just feels so familiar, down to the very last fibre of the carpet beneath my toes. Funny thing is, i still have to constantly remind myself that i AM home, that this is home and everytime i do that, the mere thought just makes me grin like an idiot.

Celebrated my 22nd yesterday. It was a non-existent affair since most of the celebration was done the day before, labour day. Couldn't help but to feel that birthdays are such redundant affairs. Well....at least 22nd birthdays are. With 21st stealing the thunder, 22nds just ain't that fun anymore. Just think about it, what's there to celebrate about being 22?

That we're 1 year more eligible to be legally drinking?
That 3 years more, we're gonna be a quarter of a century?
That at 22, we can pretend to possess the wisdom of twentysomethings because we're 'almost there', but can still act like juveniles because, hey, 5 years ago, we were merely 17-year-olds?
That 22 is the 10-year anniversary of being 12?
That 22 is such a pretty number?

See? No point in celebrating 22nds. But nonetheless, i had a wonderful pre-22nd birthday. Pointless but wonderful. Dad gladly brought us over to his newly furnished apartment smack in the middle of KL's golden triangle. As nighttime fell, the view off the apartment's balcony is simply magnificent. Perfect 22nd birthday's present.

Pointless but perfect.

I'm writing again..

2006-04-27T23:08:00.000+08:00

Losing your heart's desire is tragic. But gaining your heart's desire, is all you can hope for. This year, I wished for Love. To immerse myself in someone else, and to wake a heart long afraid to feel.
And if having that is tragic, then, give me tragedy.

Anyway, I'm finally done with the final semester of my 2nd year in Life Science. Albeit much earlier than everyone else, who are still mugging their asses off at this very moment, which would also explain why i'm ostracised right now, hence the abundance to time to write this post. What's next, you ask? Academically, I'll most probably be pursuing a concentration in Biology, so that next time, i can proudly say that i'm a marine biologist, that i swim with the dolphins off the coast of New Zealand and that I own an aquarium (not the tiny ones you see at the dentists, no. i mean, those that you have to reluctantly pay to get in just so your baby brother gets to see what sea-slugs look like). You say i'm seeing starfishes? I say, yes lah.

But life-wise, i'll be going back home this weekend, after almost 3 months of being away from the home which is just a causeway away. I desperately miss home, I really do. And secretly, i also miss having a special someone to go home to, just like last year. Things are different now, and i guess, i'm different too, because of that. Nevertheless, there's always the ye ole faithful, One U, majestically standing there, waiting for her shopping queen to make her triumphant return.

Oh, and i just had a thought the other day (as if i never did) and it has something to do with s'porean men (I hear a hush all around...haha!). Nah, it's nothing controversial or even remotely steamy. It's just something i had to point out about them that is relatively different from the guys we have back home. As you all know, i'm an ignorant foreigner in s'pore, with little or no prior knowledge about the system they have over here. So when i found out that guys here have to undergo what they call, National Service (i use 'what they call' because 'what they call' is very very very different from 'what WE call' NS) i was eager to find out what is that they do in ns. Truth be told, i still have no idea. But, one thing's for sure, it is the very thought that these guys undergo two long years of this rigorous training to be...i dunno, soldiers? It's like, they spend two years in a "twilight zone", a place oblivious to the female species. You don't see them in school for two years, and then, they appear again, changed. You know WHERE they went, but you don't know WHAT they went through. It's the 'lost years', you see, that they have and which we never get to see, that makes it so intriguing. It's as if they KNOW what's it like to be out there...

But of course, i'm a dumb blonde and i know nuts about ns or s'pore or guys. Which also brings me to my next point : i need a new hair colour.

back

2006-02-23T03:20:00.000+08:00

To those who are still hanging on to this endangered specie of a blog of mine, thank you. I'm not quite sure what went wrong with this writing streak of mine and i'm pretty sure it's not back yet, even as i write this post.

But anyways, a little update from me, shall we? So, the new year celebrations have come and gone, and here i am, back in ol' NUS again, unable to sleep at 3.30am in the morning and wondering what the hell is there to write about since my life's is more monochromatic than melodramatic. But you see, it is these little things that go on in life that makes life just so scrumptious to write about.

First things first, i've so moved on from the previous relationship. For those of you who have been privileged to be part of this sad little love tale of mine, i'm sure you'll be glad to know that i'll not be tormenting your ears with my whinings again. Finally, after almost 8 months of hanging on to empty hopes and dreams, i have finally deleted absolutely EVERYTHING about him, from my hp contact and msn lists to the emails and messages that he'd sent much earlier on. One day, it just boils down to a point where you realise that you're just utterly pathetic waiting by the phone or the computer just to get a glimpse of the other person. So pathetic- exactly my point. And for those of you who have been on the brink of a breakup or nursing one right now, i can attest that the bestest way to forget a person, is to just, forget. Get rid of the slightest thing that might spur even the faintest glint of memory. No sight, no sound, no thoughts. Just perfect mental bliss.

So, that said, i'm a full-fledged bachelorette again. This is not a plea for suitors, btw (not that i'll get any). But, just-in-case-lah.

Moving on, since i'll not be back home for the next two months or so, these are a few darlings that i'll be missing :

Mom and Dad (sorry couldn't be on the phone these days- band cd recording)
Lynn and Jinn (both are attached and happy. aww....and jinn, i DO NOT owe you s'pore dollars)
Mama (am guilty for not calling home often enough)
Oscar (and his furry ass)
Aijin, Puipui and Charm
Mag

Oh yes, and bon voyage to you meng-o! See you again next year!

Oh man, this is such a miscellaneous post but what the hell.

A (N)ewwww Year

2006-01-04T01:02:00.000+08:00

Well, since everyone's being the sweet-jellybean-chocolate-muffins they are, making all sorts new year resolutions come the year 2006, i think it's about time i made mine (public) too.

My year 2006's resolutions :
1. (Blank)
2. (Blank)
3. Not forgetting, (Blank)
4. Oh yea, and (Blank)

Honestly, i just don't give a rat's arse what's gonna happen in the year 2006. I'm just thankful that the blasted year 2005 is O-V-E-R!! Boo you, 2005. All the breakups and breakdowns, the writer's block, the life (the lack of) science dilemmas and a whole lot of other sad sad stuff happening to the world. Terrible year, I'd say, and the poor chinese coc- i mean, rooster must be tired shouldering all the blame for a fuc-, i mean, messed up year. Anyway, since 2006 is rolling along just dandy, let us all take in this opportunity to count our blessings for the new year.

We're thankful for :
1. (Blank)
2. (Blank)
3. Not forgetting (Blank)
4. Oh yea, and (Blank)

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! (Smile people, you'll never when it's gonna be your last :)

The Girl

2005-10-22T20:47:00.000+08:00

Her eyes darted across her room, blurred, fleeting, searching for something that could, would hold her back. She did not know where to look, what to look for. The distinct yellow on the cover of the photo album caught her eye amongst the bleakness of the whitewashed walls. She freed her hand, for this while, to reach for the album. It was fat, filled with pictures; no, memories. Sweet or otherwise, she didn't really care anymore. She dusted the cover of the album, seeing puffs of dust like tiny white spheres of light, glimmering. The dust is making it itch again. But don't worry, it will not itch for long. Things will change for the better after this.

She turned the pages gingerly, squinting past the tears to get a better look at the miniature human silhouette trapped beneath the plastic covers. She could recognise her at once, it was certain. The ubiquitous slit eyes (inherited from her father, whom she used to blame profusely after attending her first lesson on genetics), the toothy grin that would make the eyes disappear beyond the sallow oriental skin, the thick peg-like legs, the awful dress sense and if you look closely, the redness around the arms and knees aren't exactly problems with the lighting or the camera. It's really there. As she scanned the picture, a flux of memories came surging, paralyzing her with reminiscence. She drifted.

Since young, she knew it was rude to stare, mom had taught her well. But unfortunately, the others didn't know about that. Perhaps, they were just too young too lazy too ignorant to know better. but she simply couldn't comprehend how different she could be when she was just as human as anybody else. She walked on two legs just like them, just that maybe sometimes she limped a little because the wounds on her legs would hurt and crack open again if she had straightened her knees. She played just like them, except sometimes she couldn't join them in the field because she hated what sweat does to her. She read and wrote, just like them. Except that she knew a tad better about medicines and chemicals simply because she heard the doctors talking about them all the time. Yet, she knows despite the justifications and the reasons, they would still ostracize her. She could only admire and fantasize about the 'normalities' that people enjoy, the fundamental things that makes them as normal as humans could be. (Although it would be ironic if they too, realize that to be normal, they would have to be different) Oh, how nice it would be, if they knew who and what she was and could be beneath the veneer.

Ah, yes, the veneer. She remembers how the weaknesses relegated to strengths, the skill in adopting various veneers for her so-called life. She played along life's masquerade, changing masks as the occasion calls for it. The Bully, The Nerd, The Taciturn, The Sacharine Sweet One, The Clown, The Rubenesque, she played it all, each one more successful than the last. But it wasn't long before the facades wore off and she had to replace it with a new one. A different one to shield the raw, feeble human within. She, like plasma, shifted its shape to fit into a new mould. Like a piece in a new puzzle, a puzzle that could never fit her. Then again, she hated puzzles anyway.

She ran her stubby fingers along the outlines of the girl in the photograph, as if attempting to bring her to life so that she can hug her for real. Plonk plonk, two teardrops trickled onto the plastic covers, distorting the features of the girl's face, contorting the girl's smile into a sneer/gnarl. She pulled back,

"Are you disappointed in what you've have become, dear girl? Am I not what you imagined you'd be?"

It was true; she had stopped dreaming since reality became so formidable and daunting that her dreams drowned, lost in a mist of illusions. She knew for a fact that no matter how hard she tried, Norm had no way of accommodating her. They lied that people had to be unique and different to remain within the strata. That humans are like spectrums in a rainbow, kaleidoscopic yet integrated. What a lie! To her, humans seem more monochromatic than the black and white in photographs she had of her grandmother. Conformists. Like a speck in the eye, the weak and the sick are weeded out faster than she could say "listen here". Perhaps it is true; she has failed the girl in the photograph. The girl wanted a voice but she failed to give her one. The girl wanted fun but she was too busy figuring out the rest of the world.

"You promised. You said that I'd be fine as I grow older. Where are we now?"

She knew where she is; clearly, in fact. She stands at the edge, marginal between reality and fantasy. She could let go and forget everything or she could hold back and soak in every bit of existence she still has got left. She, like her dreams and her past, is transient. Staring intently at the photo, the tears have dried up; the snarl is replaced by the familiar impish grin again. Then, it struck. Albeit her naivete, the girl in the picture seem to posses a childlike wisdom about her, something that grown ups forget about. Despite the fact that one of her socks are pulled higher than the other, her thighs a tad thicker than those around her, her hair in a chaotic mess and her skin being less than perfect, she seemed unfazed by these worldly attachments. That little girl in the picture was brave enough to face the world with that huge grin and an even bigger imagination. She left nothing to the ravages of reality, not even the toughest of logic. The girl was different but she simply couldn't give a damn about it.

***

She lifted the penknife from across her translucent skin on her wrists and retracted the blade. Wiping the tears that started to stream again, she replied

"Yes dear girl, everything's fine now. We're going back to Wonderland."

Tempestuous

2005-10-13T16:51:00.000+08:00

I just have this urge to post this since no one really ever cares or bothers listening to whatever rants i have. So, instead of bombarding your ears with my whiny cries, allow me to blind you with my atrocious jottings.

I speak at the speed of 300 words/minute whenever i get really pissed or angry at something or someone. And the only group of people ever so privileged to see that incredible human feat of mine are my poor lab mates. Not that I have anything against them ( let us just skip that part, shall we) but sorry, we're just not gonna click no matter what. I'm not sure which part of my pathetic mug shows you that i do not have the mental capacity of handling a single experiment or to make a simple suggestion, but i guess you guys simply have the gift of making someone feel like she's the lowliest, most useless 'thing' to have ever roamed the earth. Bravo. Or maybe, nature made us in a way that four girls will never make a great lab team. We're just too...'female' for our own good. (Forgive my rants if any of you happen to stumble upon this blog of mine. Oh well, now you know why i always look as if i could bite someone's head off whenever i'm in the lab, don't you?)

It's always times like these where i wonder if i'm really even made for life science. Frankly, I'd rather graze my wrists with a blade, drive an icepick through my aorta or heck, fug william hung for all i care, than to wear a lab coat, have my eyes permanently plastered to a microscope and be called Ms. Life Sciencer in 2 years' time. I think (no, change that to 'sure') i'm better off doing english literature than staring at rat livers all day long. I'd rather be learning about iambic pentameters than to bother about ionic interactions and pH meters. It sucks being stuck in the wrong place, wrong course with the wrong people. I regret not following my own instincts and passion and went ahead with english lit instead. I regret being such a wuss, an invertebrate for allowing myself to be persuaded into changing majors earlier on. I'm such an idiot.

Sure, life science's great, but what's the fun in competing with 500 other people whom you know will be stuck with you in the same lab somewhere in biopolis 25 years down the road, complaining about that hot date that you've missed because you've been so busy trying to formulate a glow-in-the-dark rats to 'facilitate the extermination of these pests'. We work too hard just to have our fascination and awe of the wonders of life stripped off with the advent of a few mathematical formulas or random biological breakthroughs. The lives we save, nonetheless, cannot be disputed, but at what price? By the killing of a 10000 mice just to save a single human being? Is the centrality of the human consciousness really more superior than that of animals?Read J.M. Coetzee's Lives of Animals and you'll know that that parallels the atrocities committed towards humans during the Holocaust. Well, that's what the english lit people think and which i undoubtedly agree. The 'science people' will never get it.

Which boils down to the larger picture : science and the arts will always be at loggerheads with each other. And here i am, trapped in the eye of the storm.

Par

2005-09-26T02:16:00.000+08:00

I was starting to get used to the notion that i could actually survive in NUS, that i could make it through the daily grind. That i had a living, working, throbbing mass of a brain up there.

Right up till i realised i'm regressing. I'm moving down the evolutionary ladder.

That i have a sarcophagus of a skull.

I used to be proud of being called a nerd, because at least i was something worth looking up to. (Oh c'mon, admit it, you'd wished you had aced that english essay exam too, hadn't you?) At least, then, i had a role to play, an expectation to fulfill. I didn't mind having the cheapest bag, the usual mineral water plastic bottle, the stuck-in-a-time-warp-glasses and shoes, the passe hairstyle or even the other nerdy (yea right) friends i hang out with. I was happy being who i was. That is, at least i had a pair of functioning cerbrums. That was before my capillaries decided to go on strike and deprive my brain of its necessary blood supply and oxygen. In an instant, my role was being relegated from a nerd to a jackass. You thought it's just a phase which will eventually pass, yea, if a phase is a year and a half long, and then some.

Interestingly enough, i've begun to wonder; if this is the case, then could it be possible that we kids in m'sia, all these while, have been lulled into this false sense of security that our intellectual capacity is not so far off from our counterparts from across the causeway after all? That an 'A' in m'sia is equivalent to an 'A' in s'pore? After much deliberation (whoa....miraculous, i can still think) i've finally come to a snap decision that we have all been fooled. That we, despite our phallic tendencies manifested in our majestic twin towers, our constant profession that we are still in the Top 100(0) in the world in almost everything, our tragically treasured prodigies and our thriving social arts scene, we are sadly still below par in terms of our cereballic competence. (ok, for those of you who are insulted by now, please read: 'we' = 'i', 'our' = 'my') I shall not mention anything about our education system, simply because it has propelled the term 'cacat' into the international arena.

I dunno, but somehow i feel, it's because of my perceived sense of intelligence (tiny voice laughing out loud in my head) that i've been this lackadaisical all these while. But, i think that's why i love being m'sian-educated. I love being laid back and not being so anal about petty stuff. I love thinking that an 'A' equals an 'A' anywhere but an 'F' does not necessarily mean we are worst because there're still those kids up in Cameron Highlands selling exotic bugs to form six biology students. I'm an ignoramus, and one thing that I hate most to be aware of is the fact that i'm/we're not so smart after all.

But heck, we can still make a wicked bowl of laksa and our nasi lemak costs waaaaay less.

2005-08-16T13:47:00.000+08:00

We made these costumes --smugness--

The Rag team huddle

Behold the new hairdo of the 23rd century. But thanks a LOT Pinny!

Meet muffin, the Rag cat.

For more pictures, check out the website stated below. Cheers.

random thoughts

2005-08-13T23:31:00.000+08:00

I'm sorry for my absence. I've seem to have lost my touch in writing and i can't seem to put my thoughts into words. But anyway, i shall try to make this readable and bearable to the least.

And so....ends my three month stint with the TH Rag team. Although we failed to bring home the shield this time round, it was a holiday well spent. To satiate your curiosity, do check out the Temasek Hall website in due time for the pictures because, really, a picture paints a thousand words.

But, anyway, back to 'normal', just got news that the API for the haze in KL is below hazardous level again. That's good, considering how bad it was when i went back last weekend. Could hardly breathe. But then again, the haze in KL strikes at the same time almost annually. Unless something is done about it once and for all, like the durian season or the monsoon season, there could be a designated haze season in the Klang Valley every year. Makes it easier for schools to plan their holidays and for people to start stocking up on masks.

TH had their bash in DXO at the Esplanade last night and i went to prove that i am not a nerd. Haha...no la. After three months of almost monastic life in hall with no TV, no internet, no booze and no sleep, it's about time we let our hair down and show the freshies that we do not wear baggy tees, shorts and dishevelled hair all year round. It's a pity i do not own a digi cam and neither do the girls i went with or else, i had some 'payback' in store. But then again, all in good time, my dear, all in good time. Back to the bash, except for the lousy techno music, we had fun. Which brings me back to one question : When one is drunk and goes too far, how far is TOO FAR? I mean, under the influence of alcohol, how much of one's actions is the person accountable for? Can a person simply justify his doings by the reason that he had a little too much to drink? Or are we simply condoned by the fact that we can do whatever we like, because we can always easily fall back upon the excuse of drinking too much? Ok, before some alarm goes off in your head, nope, i'm not talking about myself. C'mon....i'm a nerd, aren't i? I was just thinking and curious about the scandals happening around hall. It's just ....unnerving. Or maybe...i'm just desperate for some myself. Damn. Either way, it just ain't good.

(Blank)

2005-07-07T06:38:00.000+08:00

It's 6.30am on a thursday morning and i've just came back from rag work. Took a bath and now surfing the net coz my bloody hair's to darn damp to sleep on. Work starts again at 10am.

(Just in case you were wondering if my perpetual absence on MSN meant that i've either died of exhaustion, been stabbed by the sewing machine or been shot dead by the glue gun, this short post serves to show that i'm still alive and kicking...........at least for now.)

Cheers people and remember :

WE RIP WHAT WE SEW

RAG

2005-06-17T02:33:00.000+08:00

A lot of friends have came up to me and wondered what the heck am i doing back in singapore during the three-month-long semester break and i have been having problems explaining my 'noble' intentions of forgoing months of serial shopping and travelling. I had to come back here simply because

I am doing Rag.

Rag? Yes, Rag : The epitome of singaporeanesque kiasuism in NUS. To cut to the chase, Rag is officially an annual celebration held to repay the kindness of the mass public for their donations to various charitable foundations during the NUS Flag Day. Unofficially, Rag is an intense intense competition held between halls and faculties to see who has the expertise and kiasuness to produce the best float, the best design and the best presentation. Four basic elements synonymous with Rag are the static displays, dance, costume design and the piece de resistance: the float.

So, basically, what happens is : the commitee will start work 3 months prior to the Rag day, coming up with ideas and themes for the year's Rag. For the first 3 weeks, the designers will go off cracking their brains to come up with a winning design while respective teams (tech, costume and static) will each set off with their training sessions. I can't say for the other teams, but me being a costume girl, had to declare the sewing machine as my new playmate, creating skimpy tubes and minis while the frequent cuts and pricks are just unavoidable occupational hazards. And true to our moto "We Rip What We Sew", our daily routine from 9am in the morning till 2am will be sew, rip, pick, curse and sew.

This will then go on for the one month till the crunch period sets in. And in true ragging style, this is the time where no one sleeps and when true NS men cry. I've seen it last year, during my orientation periods, where the raggers will slog and toil through each day will a constant daze plastered across their faces. We will work like zombies, rushing for deadlines like, making 40 tubes and pants f0r 40 dancers in 2 weeks or cutting 500 cans in 4 days for the cladding of the float. And the ultimate challenge is that we will have to incorporate recycled materials into our work as it carries credit. Putting all these into mere words just can't describe the sheer magnitude of our workload. It's madness i know, but i'm still in. It's about time i get my dose of adrenaline rush as i crave for the pride and satisfaction in my work and the comaderie between our fellow raggers. And mag, don't worry, i'll definitely be back to paint the malls red with you after this is all done and over with. You too, jin.

Two more months...

2005-06-12T01:35:00.000+08:00

Show me a guy who can say just this :

She's no you,
You give me more than I can ever want
She's no you,
I'm satisfied with the one I've got
Cause you're all the girl
That I ever dreamed
She's only a picture on a magazine (or a babe sitting by the bar/ sunbathing nude/ getting jiggy the dancefloor/whatever)
She's no you, she's no you

....and i'll show you a girl who really enjoys cucumber and tofu sandwiches.

(ok, i've realised that it's about time for me to move on from topics like these before i sound like a invertebrate. Anyway, let me clarify that i blame no one for the volatility and unpredictablity of Life and Love. Changes are inevitable and therefore, i shall move on.)

Next topic : "When is a grape not a grape, a prune not a prune?"

Blast from the Past

2005-05-31T00:22:00.000+08:00

Weeks ago, mom stumbled across an old, dusty casette tape which was mysteriously unlabelled, with pink, green and white prints scattered across its surface. You know, one of those casettes of yonder days where we listened to our good ol' Blondie, NKOTB and Abba which those annoying crackly static sounds? Yea, thank goodness for cds and ~~good~~ better music.
Anyway, out of curiosity, mom and i then decided to pop it into the player for good measure, to decide whether it was good to go or for keepsakes. As the casette started to roll, high pitched children's chattering emitted from the speakers and caught mom and i off guard. We stared at each other, wondering whether these faceless voices were my sis, bro and i when we were younger. As we proceeded to listen more attentively, i finally recognised on of the voices which was currently crooning - or more like gurgling- a familiar tune, but with alternative lyrics only eu jinn could think up of when he was much younger.

"Twinkle twinkle little star,
How i wonder wonder star,
(Uncomprehensible mumble)
You and i can go to bed."

As mom and i nursed our aching bellies from the racuous laughter, baby eu jinn continued to make really funny and candid snippets of song pieces, including a wierd composition named "Fortita". We recalled that he was actually using the red kiddy recorder and microphone to record his voice but unfortunately, no one taught him which symbol meant stop. So there was actually a snippet in there where jinn actually ran to the bathroom and opened the door while lynn was bathing to ask her. You could actually hear water. How sweet. In addition to that, we also recognised 'ickle lynn's voice making a news reports and interviews with really wierd people, especially a 5-year-old eu jinn who claimed he was 30 instead (after much obvious background prompting from lynn) and loves malaysia very much. Another precious rediscovery was of baby jinn's recitation of all the dinosaur names he knew and remembered very well when he was much younger with precise and crisp pronunciations. Oh, and not forgetting the ear piercing screeches we made while 'negotiating' who gets to use the microphone next.

After we realised we could laugh no more, we mutually agreed that 1) we terrorised the neighbourhood with our incessant bickering and shrieks and laughters 2) eu jinn had in fact, a level of creativity and grasp of the english language way beyond his 5 years of age. Unfortunately, puberty hit and all that's left is a brooding, monosyllabalic tall, dark and handsome chap 3) i was (am?) a big bully and 4) lynn was a mak nenek and still is :P

It's true what mom said, that parents should ENJOY their children while they are young, because you'll definitely miss them when they grow up. Which reminds me, i should invest in a good videocamera and photoalbum.

But at the meantime, anybody knows where i can convert casettes into cds?

I'm Gonna Be Alright

2005-05-26T00:12:00.000+08:00

A huge big thanks to all those who have been my guiding light through this sudden turmoil of mine. You've shown me that nothing can take my happiness and dignity away from me. You shown me my worth. I am truly blessed. It goes on to prove only one thing :

Family are the best friends you're born with;
and
Girlfriends are for life.

I love you all.

Realisation

2005-05-13T16:53:00.000+08:00

Listening to : "Chariot" by Gavin DeGraw

Sometimes you wonder how much you're really worth,

And then some jerk appears

Making Cloud 9 seem more than

Just a concoction of sweetness and nuts

Who glazes your life with candy coated hollowness

And null words and desolate promises.

Thanks to him,

Your market value just plunges

All the bloody farkin way.

Fugly

2005-05-01T02:03:00.000+08:00

Ok, by the time this post is posted officially on cyber space, this is gonna be old old oooooold news but please, bear with me while i gripe. Thank you.

Raise your hands high in the air. Strike up the band. Sing our sweet voices and cheers to our tequilas for the bad, the guilty and the fugly en fant terrible of cable-tvdom, Sex and the City are finally off our airwaves!! But before i continue, let me also clarify that i was a fan, no doubt, of the much acclaimed sitcom, due to its frankness, its gliteratti, its fashion statements and of course, its obvious explicit content.

But i do digress.

Sex and the City was a conformist sitcom, through and through. But, due to its hot, gripping, intense and touching (puns intended, if any), the controversy was so obliviously embedded that it seemed oh-so-innocent to many, save for the much publicied influences it had on the female psyche on sex and male performance, which left many poor men cursing about the sitcoms existence and empowering influences on the 'fairer sex'.

However, the point i'm getting at is its no-so-pleasant influences the show had on it female audiences. I shall also not mention anything about racecars since something baad happened to some blog about being sued and all for posting some issue about racecars so i shall move on. But, a little teaser for you guys to ponder : of all the sexy foreign lovers Carrie and her gals had, how many Asian men were there? Hint : why didnt the ladies of SATC suffer from Yellow Fever? Are Asian men that bad lovers that they do not deserve to relish some on-air time about their, erm, exoticness? Anyway, that's besides the point. Point is, Carrie and her pooches, intentionally or unintentionally, have greatly revolutionised the girlfriend / friendship / soulsistas scene of recent times.

Fashion. Girl bonding sessions. Margaritas and metropolitans. Guys. Lunches. Clubbing -- the must-have elements of galfriend (note: GALfriend) circles of the 21st century. Or should i say, the post-SATC era. They are the new paragons of the perfect platonic girl-girl relationship. Without them, girlfriends are lets say,merely just plain ol' buddies. For some rather obvious few, they are already SATC-ing, clicking with each other like tap shoes on parquet (ok, bad analogy but anyway). Those with the coolest friends around town. Those with overt public displays of affection (hughugkisskisshowareyoudahling). Those with amazing dress sense and the most microscopic tubes. And those with potentially putrifying nicknames for each other (no offence). I bet there's even a retail outlet named after them, The $4.11 Shop. They throng the local clubs with not one, not two but an beavy of galfriends on their arms. They rule the dancefloor and every hot blooded male's undivided attention with their various erm, talents and attributes. And yet, they still manage to stay sober and prim the next day, meeting up for a cafe latte at the nearest bistro, with not an eyebag in sight or a hair out of place. I'm soo sweeping generalising this but, you get my point.

But, dear producers, have you ever considered about those of us who do not have a clique of galfriends to begin with? Besides forgetting about the Asians, the Rubenesque, the shoeless, the virgins, the sexless and the confused, you have obviously slashed the lone rangers right of the map of Coolville. Ok, most of you must have detected the underlying tone of bitterness in this post so i'll admit : I am under pressure to 'up' my ante as the ubercoolchicgalfriend due to that smart-alec of a show which is not entirely a bad thing, considering the amount of invitations to parties and clubs i'd get henceforth. Yea, yay. I'm sure there are many who would share the same dilemma of never reaaaaalllly having galfriends or never really had a clique to begin with. Yes, i sense your frustration.........galfriend.

As much as we would like to grow old, wrinkly and saggy with our girlfriends and still able to brag about what (or who) we did last night, not all of us will really get to the point of being THAT comfortable about being uncensored with our girlfriends. Not all of us will have that figure or spending power to wear a chi chi Chanel outfit. Not all of us will have galfriends. Heck, not all of us live in New York anyway. SATC might have ended its run on our local airwaves more than a year ago but its influence still rears its fugly head among us.

Exam Season

2005-04-17T17:23:00.000+08:00

Here's to THE birthday of the year

Happy 21st Marie!!

Piece de resistance - created by Ikea tea lights, made possible by Pinny's ingenuity and held at the empty grassy site between blocks. The birthday was spectacular complete with sparklers, ballooons and artificial-snow-spray-can thingy complete with a raspberry cheesecake fight.

And while others were out there celebrating their coming of age,
some of us chose to mug the asses out of ourselves, resulting in perpetual homicidal thoughts.

While some just remain incorrigible.

Merry mugging everyone!

April Fools

2005-04-13T22:54:00.000+08:00

Date : April 1st 2005
Time : 3.25am
Location : My room

(Knock knock)
SueAnn : Come i....(guys barge in)
Lian : Hello Suwati!! Wah....studying ar?
JT : How come so hardworking wan?
(Guys proceed to probe and stick their noses around my room while i said my 'final words' on msn)
SA : Where did you come from?
Lian : Fong Seng lo. You want Oreo?
SA : Mmm.....nah...no thanks (what was i thinking? turning down oreos)
JT : Take la, ah lian cannot finish.
SA : Nah....dun wan la.
Lian, JT : Ok lo.......(guys proceed to get comfortable on the bed before i shooed them onto the floor where they started muching on their oreos. Rolls eyes.)

(Girls come in)

BH : Hello! Wah....studying ar..
Wawa : Wah...don't make me guilty la.
SA : (Smirks) You just came back from Fong Seng also ah?
BH : No la, only the guys.
SA : Oh......eh, i go toilet first ar. Don't dirty my room ok?

(While i was walking out of the room, JT offerred Wawa a piece of Oreo)

Wawa : Huh? Eh...i don't feel like eating now la. Nah, give you la (hands oreo to me)

(I figured, since it was taken out and no use putting it back into the packet, i simply accepted it)

SA : Eh....(realises Oreo lacking thick slab of cream) how come so thin wan ah? (proceeds to twist oreo open)

At this point, i should have realised something amiss when the guys started becoming quiet. But sigh....whoever turns down a free Oreo cookie?

(Realises insides were sloppy and creamy instead of a solid slab)

SA : YUCK!! Why liddat wan??
JT : Aiya..why so eem cheem (choosy) wan? Weather hot mah, melt already.
SA : Ohh.......(proceeds to take a bite)

(Guys starts laughing. Girls starts giggling. Me realises something different with taste. Tastes like....like....like...........toothpaste!!!!)

SA : ARGHHHHHHHH.........................(dashes to toilet)

* * * * * *

After the whole dramarama, we figured it was time to pass the prank. Right on cue, while we were standing around the corridor, discussing our strategy, came our next victim.

Lian : Hey, A, want an oreo?
A : (Since both hands were occupied holding onto a box) Oh ok, thanks. (Opens mouth wide)

(Lian simply just popped the oreo into his mouth. A nods and moved along)

(While we were waiting in anticipation..)

A : (Turns around) Hey....new flavour ah?

All : Yea, Colgate! Hahahahaha......

2005-03-26T04:20:00.000+08:00

People say that i have low self-esteem and a detrimental view of myself.

Well...

Try living under the same roof (not TH's) with a supermodel and an immortal for 20 years.

And you'll get what i mean.

Photolog (as requested)

2005-03-25T01:17:00.000+08:00

Hey fyee, there you go. i've managed to take some pictures of the hall i'm staying in with the Nikon D70 from my photocomm and other miscellaneous photos i took using my less competent webcam.

My humble abode. Pardon the apparent mess on the desk (or lack thereof). It's exam time (which also means i'm not mugging yet). The artsy thing on the wall above my bed is a mesh of our ever pleasant free kwik-e cards!

View of the corridor outside my room. Haven't taken down the hanging crepe paper we've put up for valentine's.

View outside my window. The building on the right is the dorsal view of the communal hall where 'food' is served.

A few members of our a cappella group Resonance chilling out at Munchie Monkeys after a gig on Valentine's Day, which explains why we're all wearing red and me holding a rose. (psst...and he's holding up a serviette scrolled "Single and Available", just in case you gals are interested :)

It's a hard knock life at TH. Level mates and i, messing around at 4am in the morning. After that, despite the fatigue, we still couldn't sleep.

The Long and Short of LDRs

2005-03-19T15:19:00.000+08:00

Firstly, let me apoplogise for my rugged blog-updating pace and of course, my rugged good looks. Haha. In fact, i rarely even have time to revise my work since i've been spending way too much time acappella-ing, sleeping and MSNGaming. So, my dear readers (especially those who are still hanging on despite the blog-draught and freaking hot weather) thank you. Oh, and do drink lots of water. I hate to see our m'sians dying of dehydration and blaming the s'poreans for stealing all their precious water.

News flash : Long distance relationship sucks, big time. For those of you who have yet to go through LDRs, don't even go near (or far) them. Stay put. Duck and cover from the unis and colleges who perpetuate overseas learning. Stick to each other like UHU. Hang on to each other for dear life. For, LDR is a big bad monster who's out and about to capture your loved ones and hurling them to a land far far away and leaving you here to rot.

Ok, i'm exaggerating. It's not that bad. It's not even three-quarts as bad. But, when you come to a point where you cringe at every sight of affectionate couples on the streets or stare blankly at the MSN msger window at 3.30am in the morning thinking that he's gonna come online aaaaaany minute now, it's time to get a life. And it's then that you realise that LDR has crept up and hit you in face. But come to think about it, aren't we asking a little too much? Come to think of it, LDR technically applies only to some poor 1890s Laura whose John Smith is out there saving the British empire and she only gets to hear from him after five months apart through a telegram consisting of a mere five words. If she's one of the lucky few, it would be "Tell Laura I Love Her". Or else, "Oh God Save the Queen". Therefore, who are we, people of the cyber age, of the supposedly borderless world, to complain about LDR?

However, no matter how much people deem that it's not all that bad, or one year is simply just twelve short months, maintaining an LDR is unbelievably hard. Insecurity, frustration and confusion inevitably creeps in. And i think, feeling this way is somewhat unfair for the person on the other (or this?) end of the relationship because he/she will never really know. Imagine being lulled into a false sense of security, oblivious to what is happening because what you eventually know, is hearsay, even from the horse's mouth and never getting the whole story you bargained for. But on the contrary, it's also impossible to want to know everything because sue ann will then be both paranoid and obsessive. And, of course, the crazy monkey who wouldn't let go of the coconut. So you see, how impossible it is a strike a balance between holding on and letting go. It's an art, i tell you and they'd better award me a MA at the end of these 2 years or more.

Besides the depressing stuff and weather, life in hall is pretty placid peppered with occassional romps with the girls with the webcam. Lectures are interesting and the field trips and the weekly visits to the anatomy dissection hall are *kisses fingers* magnifique. Finals creeping up realsoon. So, thankfully, will have less time to think about Chip. Sigh....great.

2005-02-23T15:25:00.000+08:00

Random thoughts of the day:

When people laughs at your ass, rub it in their faces and be grate(great)ful that at least you HAVE an ass.

Who cares about being size 12 and Asian? Just tell that you're Continental and allowed to be whatever size.

Or better, tell them that you don't do maths.

Be proud that you cannot find a bra your size in the local departmental store.

Miniskirts are for flamingos.

Oprah is manipulative.

Boycott politically correct terms like "curvy" or "voluptous". Snap out of denial, we are Fat. The more we come out of it, the less Mona Lisa will seem like a big deal.

Yellow is the most hideous colour in the world. Not refering to skin, btw.

High heels are detrimental to the human health, because it pushes your centre of gravity frontwards, making your breasts shift south and brain matter shifting towards the frontal portion, blocking your sense of sight, making you shortsighted, therefore more bimbo-ish.

Hush puppies are ugly either.

Oh yea, and Jay Chou has the most delicious lips i have ever seen.

Argh, Again

2005-02-20T02:00:00.000+08:00

In the Western medicine context, eczema is ..

A group of skin conditions which can affect all age groups. The severity of the disease can vary. In mild forms the skin is dry, hot and itchy, whilst in more severe forms the skin can become broken, raw and bleeding. Although it can sometimes look unpleasant, eczema is not contagious (repeat that!) With treatment the inflammation of eczema can be reduced, though the skin will always be sensitive to flare-ups and need extra care (Read : Incurable)

However, in the traditional Chinese medicine genre, eczema is

A condition that is closely associated to the individuals' lifestyle, diets as well as his/her stress levels. Individuals who have suffered from stress, who favour spicy foods and take away, and consumes alcoholic drinks are more likely to suffer from eczema than those with a healthy and regular lifestyle. This is because spicy, greasy and take away foods, alcoholic drinks as well as smoking and stress (what the heck, i don't drink and neither do i do fag!), with time, can accumulate into harmful bi-products which become toxins in the body. Chinese herbs are used in treating this condition to purge the toxins out of the body and reduce / calm the over-reactive immune reactions which are found in the cases of eczema. (Read : Eczema is no-big-deal)

Ok, being a fellow life sciencer, i technically should be standing over at the side of conventional medicine and proclaim that the chinese medicinal way of treating eczema is nothing but some overhyped crap. But, returning to the practicality of things, would i root for something that insists eczema is incurable or the other alternative where i'm bound to be flake-free in a matter of a few dong guais?

Earlier this morning, aunt marlyne, aunt irene together with their mom, aunty ma (what a mouthful) brought me to consult a sinseh at Ghim Moh regarding my recurrent skin problem. Bless their dear souls. Well, let me make it clear that this is soo not the first time that i'm giving in to people's concerns and went ahead being a guinea pig with what ever sort of treatment they claim is miraculous. I'm simply tired of protesting.

The quaint shop was nestled in the midst of a construction site at the front and other disturbingly similiar medicinal shops at the sides. Interestingly enough, i was amazed by how it still manages to sustain itself despite everything that is going against it; the modernisation taking place right at its doorstep and the competing force of conventional medicine, threatening to wipe it out of existence. Being a teochew myself, i had no trouble understanding what the sinseh was trying to convey , which is nothing i have not heard before. Dismissing the skeptic in me, i went ahead and bought into what he said, about me being curable (yay); about me having to take the pills which cost 70 cents each 3 times a day, 5 pills at each intake; about me having to abstain from crustaceans and molluscs and chicken and eggs and get this: bread and oats! How am i, being a serial carbo-addict, going to live through life and monday mornings not having my chicken pau and red bean buns?! This is so not going to be pretty.

Besides, he also stated an assumption that sent a wave of startling revelation through me and the ladies who were there. According to his findings, eczema is caused by a certain immunisation i took when i was young. It could either be the triple booster, bcg, polio or the rubella. He said that after the jab, i could have not taken enough egg yolks(?) to purge myself of the toxins in me. Therefore, the skin disorder is a side effect of that particular jab and the chemicals which were in it. Interesting. Were we even supposed to eat eggs after they were immunised? Wait..here's my 70 cents worth: Eczema sufferers (usually the first born, don't ask me why) have not taken enough eggs when they were young, causing them not to produce the certain kind of antibodies required. So...as time passed, when eggs and chickens and other animals that came from eggs were ingested, war broke out, and we were raped of our freedom to eat normal food ever again.

Darn the nurse who didnt mention that i needed more eggs in me.

And Ode To Chip

2005-02-16T20:26:00.000+08:00

See the pyramids along the Nile

Watch the sunrise from the tropic isle

Just remember darling all the while

You belong to me

See the market place in old Algiers

Send me photographs and souvenirs

Just remember when a dream appears

You belong to me

And I'll be so alone without you

Maybe you'll be lonesome, too

Fly the ocean in a silver plane

See the jungle when it's wet with rain

Just remember 'til you're home again

You belong to me

And I'll be so alone without you

Maybe you'll be lonesome, too

Fly the ocean in a silver plane

See the jungle when it's wet with rain

Just remember 'til you're home again

You belong to me

Farewell Farewell

2005-02-14T21:07:00.000+08:00

Before i start ranting about my day, do let me wish all you lovebirds out there a verry Happy Valentine's Day and a Happy Friendship Day to those who are still swinging bachelors and bachelorettes (lucky you!)

Yep, it's 9.15pm right now, on a wonderful valentine's evening with great potential to be magical. Just came back from serenading soppy love songs to a bunch of lovestruck youngsters at a cafe in campus and let me just add that seeing people together just makes me wanna cry.

Why?

I'm spending v-day with the thought that i had just bid my last farewell to chip just yesterday and i might as well never see him again the entire year (or two). He'll be flying off to perth in two day's time and much as i would like, i can't possibly take a day off again to send him off at the airport. I'll make a big boo boo. Or perhaps i'm just being pessimistic and sentimental but heck! one year, no matter how fast others say it'll pass, it's still one freaking looong year! No amount of emails and msn-ings and webcammings are gonna make it any easier. I requested chip not to come to the bus station to send me off this morning, for fear that i might flood Kl. He was kind enough to oblige. But, there's still this achy nagging thought that persists things would have been better if he were to have dropped by for one last hug, one last peck on the forehead, or one last smile, assuring me that everything's gonna be alright.

I hate that i have so little control over my emotions. I hate that whatever i want to do right now is beyond my capacity and logic to do so. I've got so many things to do and so many things to say but so little time. What if i'd never have to chance to ever again? What if things inevitably change? What if two people were to grow apart? What if the term 'out of sight, out of mind' rings true?

I'll miss having good ol' chip around. I'll miss being able to call whenever my inferority complex strikes. I miss hanging out. I'll miss having my bestest friend around. Going back to m'sia will never be the same again.

2005-02-08T02:05:00.000+08:00

Happy Chinese Cock Year Everyone!!

(Hahaha.....just can't help myself!)

2005-02-06T01:27:00.000+08:00

How ironic is it that i'm planning to minor in english studies and i can't even compose a decent piece of entry nowadays?

I'll try my best this time round.

*****

Today,

I had chicken macaroni for lunch and artifically green spinach noodles for dinner.
I missed breakfast again.
I went to Chinatown to get some stuff for the cny celebration in the hall.
I had a thai fragant coconut along the way.
I was supposed to go watch the play by chinese production but i stood charmaine up and went shoppping at bkt batok instead.
I laughed at some lame jokes.
I did nothing academically productive.
I sang and talked to Bee while in the shower.
I bought detergent.
I wished and wished that Chip would turn up at my doorstep.
I ran my mp3's on repeat.
I swept the floor but was too lazy to mop it.
I checked my inbox for the third time.

I'll try something more intellectually stimulating next time. It's a sunday morning for crying out loud.

Heppi Neu Yere

2005-01-12T01:38:00.000+08:00

So as things starts to shift into gear and as classes starts clanking into life once more, things are starting to make sense again. The library starts humming with activity, which is interestingly, one of the few places around here which i can fit in just perfectly. Nerd at heart, huh. Well, nothing strikes up a good conversation like a cup of coffee and a book in hand, which is why the Coffee Club Express is just a few walks away from the library block. So, don't you dare call a library rat a recluse.

Another thing, since this is the first year which has started with me being overcauseway, i should therefore resort to making my life here as bearable as possible. Nothing like the good ol' new year resolution list to put things into perspective again.

To remind myself again that :

I have the right to to say no to useless trips to the mamak at night
I have the privilege of denying anyone who makes me feel inferior.
I have the right not to feel inferior myself.
I have the right to stay in the library as long as i like.
I have the right to be a NERD.
I have the right to act like a wuss and cry.
I have the right to sing in the shower.
I have the right to eat chocolate.
I have the right to decline certain questions posed.
I have the right not to conform.

I have the right to be Myself.

Think Real

2005-01-09T02:09:00.000+08:00

Ohhh...

Holidays ending soon. How sad. Classes tentatively start on monday but as i've mentioned, nothing starts before the Chinese New Year starts. So, figuratively, i have another one more month of holidays. Man, i love my race.

Anyway, i had to come back to s'pore one week before classes to get the band recording done as well as the online bidding for the modules that i'm to take next semester. Yea, bidding, that's it. Well, basically, it starts where everyone has a certain amount of points to start with, which are accumulative, so the seniors who have been rather thrifty with their points previous sems, they'd pretty much be able to dominate the biddings and get whatever they want this sem. It's pretty unfair but hey, life goes on. You place your bets on the modules that you intend to take next semester, in accordance to how desperately you want them. So, instead of waking up really early in the morning and lining up in queues to sign up for the modules, we have this system, not on a first come first serve basis, which is not a really good thing. In exchange for the physicality of the more conventional methods, we in turn have to stare at the monitor all day to monitor our biddings, just in case we do not get oubidded by some stupid wet blankets who dumps his whole entire load into it. We end up being frustrated firstly because we don't have enough points, and secondly, we hate the modules that we had no choice but to take up because no one else wants them and they were the only ones with vacancies. Sucky eh.

So, thing is, while i was busy figuring whether i should take literature or sociology this sem, i was bombarded then again with a very-scary-fact. While i have made up my mind to pursue Life Sciences and while constantly purred by the fact that it's THE thing of the 21st century, i've come to a realisation that I Do Not Want To Do Life Science For Life!! Not that i'm giving up or anything, it's just that, with the amount of people graduating by the year 2008 and the amount of people doing biological sciences in the decades to come, i've realised that i might just fade into obscurity. Another face in the crowd. Nothing different, nothing unique. Moreover, i might fail the opportunity to make a difference in this world (sounds corny, but heck, i'm corny). And the worst thing is, i might/will end up working for peanuts. I will get the same measly pay same time of the month, every month, for the rest of my working life. It might be a stable paying job, but stable does not equals exponential. And without exponential growth, when then can i retire feeling that i've enough money to last my lifetime and my children's lifetime? Nobody on their deathbed has ever said that he wished he had spent more time studying or working. It just doesnt make sense. my parents have spent their last 30 years working their arses off at nonetheless high paying jobs, yet sad to say, they are still unable to afford their children's full education fees. And reality tells me that, history is going to repeat itself and i am going to have to face the same problem my parents have, if i go on running round and round in this rat race, chasing after a cheese that was never mine in the first place.

It's time to wake up and smell the roses. Who are we kidding? We work, primarily for money. We'll have to admit that. And if my time and effort does not pay off (literally), why should i stick to conventional methods of making money then? Do not let work come between you and money. It's time to think real.

2004-12-30T22:15:00.000+08:00

It's the way things go. That's what they tell us.
When something fall, it will soon rise.
The Law of Opposites.
But haven't you notice that usually, the poor will always remain poor and the rich goes on being richer?
Where's the truth in this?

It is not good to be the scum laying at the bottom of the ocean, watching the larger fishes swim above you, admiring the translucent jellyfish float aimlessly on the very top. Sometimes, being free is good. Being aimless is even better. What use is a scum? What use is there to have the notion, the urge to rise above the tides, to watch the blue skies and fluffy white clouds when everything there is anchors you down. Some people are born with wings, some with feet and some with fins. But thereby lying in the deepest crevises, lie those who have nothing at all. Not even the sturdiest of earth to cling on to. Not even a thought. Which is not a good thing either. This does not equates to being free, feet above ground. It's having nothing to hold on to. Having no one to acknowledge your existence and offering you a piece of land, a corner of the earth, a slice of space to call yours.

Nothing is real. You deny reality but you hang on to it still, afraid you might lose it still. It gives you a sense of saneness but at the same time, taking away chunks of it. But what good is it, 'hanging on'? Rocks tumble, earth slips, grips loosen, you fall. Rise again? How? Enveloping you is fear at its hilt. Even the air around you suffocates. But the irony is, how far down can you still fall, when the lowest is where you've been? How much can you take before you hear the crunch behind you. But, who cares? No one, that's the thing. Who notices? Well, the fishes. But, what good are they? Swoop down and break your fall with their flimsy fins? You realise that it's not water, it's air. Not friction, no restriction. You just FALL.

Back 'home'?

2004-12-16T23:52:00.000+08:00

Tip #22 : Never leave a girl alone with her own thoughts. It does more damage than shopping.

After almost 3 weeks ritualistic homecoming shopping and hearty homecooked meals, i had to head back to s'pore again. This may come as a surprise to some of you whom i've told that i won't be s'pore bound till after xmas and to fyee : the m'cca trip. Something urgent came up that i cannot possibly miss and that i have to attend to. It's not like i'm off to save Palestine or something, it's just that the hall band needed to songs to be done and sarah, of all places, is in hall and we have to attend what we call the epitome of s'pore anal-ism : meetings and more meetings! I'm not quite sure if i'll be in time for xmas in m'sia or not, but i promise that i'll be there when you carve the turkey, babe. Anyways, in spite of all the plannings that i came up before i came back home, here is yet another list of things that i failed miserably to do :

see fireflies
meet up with jin and co more than once
visit kustem and ruth
checking out the m'sian clubbing scene
getting a new pair of jeans
highlight my locks (it'll still be as limp as it is now anyway so wth)
update my blog more regularly ( i hate the word blog. Sounds so...primitive. It's like "Ugh, let's carve some dinosaur meat, blog")
spending more time at home with grandma
read more novels
had more m'sian food

And the ironic thing is, i've been living in m'sia my entire life and now i'm missing these things? Schomebody schlap me.

2004-12-06T11:07:00.000+08:00

One week passed.

How uneventful.

Well, at least i managed to achieve something. Got my biological clock readjusted and now it's not so screwed up as before. Yea, i'm now waking up at 10.00am instead of pm. Hooray to that!

....

*awkward silence*

yep, that was how uneventful the entire week was. I envy you sarah, all alone in china, chewing crickets' heads off, hooking up with clueless chinamen and not giving a rat's ass about what is going on in the world. Which reminds me, i hate newspapers.

Pun(n)y People

2004-11-27T01:45:00.000+08:00

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.

Four down, One to go

2004-11-25T01:42:00.000+08:00

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.

Made in Nippon

2004-11-20T01:52:00.000+08:00

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.

Somebody's Fool

2004-11-17T19:52:00.000+08:00

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.

Obssession

2004-11-12T04:36:00.000+08:00

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

2004-11-12T01:55:00.000+08:00

Anybody have some social skills to spare? I need some . Desperately.

Nost al Gia

2004-11-10T02:33:00.000+08:00

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.

As The Sun Sets

2004-11-07T18:45:00.000+08:00

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.

Sigh for me

2004-11-05T01:22:00.000+08:00

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.

The Guy That Lives Below

2004-11-03T09:23:00.000+08:00

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.

10.28pm

2004-10-31T22:28:00.000+08:00

This stupid chemistry shit is never going into my head. It's not worth the squeeze for just 5 measly points.
My pigs are never going to fly...ever.
I suck.

10.01pm

2004-10-31T22:01:00.000+08:00

I walked back to my room, sad and dissapointed over my recent performance for the band. I can never get things right, never do or say the right things. If i were to go on being who i am, i might bring the downfall of myself and eveything else around me. I've never fit in into anything and i dont think i ever will. I'm an outcast, yes, that's what i am. I have to accept this reality that i'm not gonna be part of everything. I'm not gonna stand out, i'm merely gonna stick out like a sore thumb.

9.56pm

2004-10-31T21:56:00.000+08:00

Nothing seems to work out. I've spent my entire lifetime trying to figure out who the heck i am, what the heck i'm doing and why the heck am i here. Dont think i'll ever get the answer i want.

Sucky

2004-10-31T21:52:00.000+08:00

If this day is going to lead to my breakdown, i'm gonna want to record every second of it

9.52pm
Feeling like the most worthless, useless human being in the world. She's right, i'm a Useless F***.

Whoa..

2004-10-08T01:28:00.000+08:00

Was thinking...since i deleted the old blog and perpetually no one know about the annhilation, that leaves me with a heck lots of space to crap whatever i want, diss whoever i want without the danger of leaving some narrow-minded hermit insulted. The ingenuity of seemingly clumsy itchy fingers deleting over-exposed personal accounts.

But first, let me just clarify that i'm still sane. 1+1 is still 3, ok?

Eu Jinn, if you're reading this, (my blog is not entirely barren)chances are you'd have already got your PMR exams over and done with. wOoHoO...go paint the town red man!

My stupid film and history report is still blank but, who cares? The night still young and i'm not planning to sleep tonight anyway. I have lost control of myself, lately. I dont eat right. I dont sleep right. I dont think right and heck, i'm not even doing things right. The 7-11 behind the dorm is currently my shopping haven, and my usual supper hour is at 2am in the morning. My skin's breaking out like there's no tomorrow that i'm now like a walking human freakshow. Shit man. Oh yea, and i'm phlunking almost all my science subjects. Yes, phe-lunk-ing. Thats the word. And.. to top it all off, i FEEL chip and i are drifting apart. Sucky hey? I dunno what he feels about all this, but let me just proclaim that a lady's instinct is more-than-just-right. Yea, blame it on the distance, blame it on our workloads, that's the easiest way out. But, in the end, the fundamentals of a relationship is still Commitment and some more of it. When commitment is absent, everything crumbles along with it. Easier said than done. Of course, we still do talk almost everyday but, thing is, the 'it' is missing. Dont ask me what the heck 'it' is, i have no bloody idea. All i'm pretty sure about is that nothing is as before. Or...maybe....that's the problem. In the quest to retain the past, we lose touch of the present. Maybe that's it! "It" is the present! Everything that we're talking about no longer seem to revolve around the present anymore. It's been moving back and forth and back and forth, relinquishing on the past and presuming the future but never dwelling in the present moment. I keep mentioning about wanting to meet him and all when i get home in another few more months but never really basking in the present moment and that i'm already connecting with him. Ahh.......eureka moment! Sorry chip, now i get it. No wonder you sent me that book! Gosh...for a man, you do have an unsual amount of foresight. I'm proud.

Writing therapy.
Works all the time.

NOW i better get back to work.

Chuggin' with some muggin'

2004-09-14T01:18:00.000+08:00

Me..working my arse off (yea right). Chem test coming up this thurs and i'm still no where to be seen....from the book's eye view.

Long long black monday.

Simply loved the movie Memento which was shown to us during film&history class. And whoever you are reading this, if you're in a country where illegal downloading is *hush* not-so-very-illegal, go download this masterpiece directed by christopher nolan starring guy pearce and carrie-ann moss. Basically, it's a drama cum mystery cum thriller with a M. Night Shymalan-esque twist at the end of it. Everything is chronologically backward...the coloured scenes i mean. And there are also b&w scenes which is chronologically
correct' and it comes in from the front and the both time frames meet in the middle. Yea...this is the stuff they feed you in NUS, force you to swallow, digest and miraculously come up with a report at the end of the week. I mean, like, am i wearing my red underwear outside my blue tights?

Chem test coming up end of this week and it covers 5% of the final evalution. Sounds insignificant but somehow, everything here is blown out of porportion and the fever rages on. I count myself lucky if i have a sufficient 5 hour rest every night, and i consider myself 'da bomb' if i can wake up in time and not miss classes. Dorm life is extremely detrimental. Everyone here is either nocturnal or 7-11's (24 hour service). It's insane!

mug mug mug mug mug mug.......

Le Invasions Du William

2004-09-11T16:48:00.000+08:00

Ecxerpt from Channel New Asia (11 Sept 2004)

American Idol reject William Hung arrives in Singapore; Sunday concert at Esplanade

SINGAPORE : William Hung, the American Idol reject who took the world by storm, arrived in Singapore on Friday.
He flew into Changi Airport this morning
"Hello, hello.." a waving William said.
Not even the 20-hour flight from Los Angeles could stop William from looking his very best for his adoring fans
And who can resist that famous toothy grin?
Diehard fans can catch William in a charity concert this Sunday at the Esplanade.
Word has it that he will be singing his infamous cover of Ricky Martin's "She Bangs" and the Village People's "YMCA".
He will also sign autographs at the IMM Building on Saturday afternoon.
"Hello Singapore, I'm William Hung, I'm here and I'll see you soon, bye bye," he said. - CNA

What - the - heck ??

Since when was the william hung granted a concert right and why, why the esplanade in *gasp* s'pore? Does he *gasp* have the largest fan base here? (which is a scary thought i might add) Was he *gasp* invited?

******

i wanna go watch...

Slowcoach

2004-09-10T13:40:00.000+08:00

We m'sians spend 6 years in primary school and another 5 (and in some useless pathetic cases, 7) years in secondary school and another 2 more years in college. Which, in s'porean terms, is si be chia lat lah. Come on, let's face it, it is waaaay too long. Wanna know why the "malau"-sian government never really made it to the top of the economic strata? Well, let me tell you then. It's simply because they produce the oldest people to ever graduate from unis in the world. And by the time they actually do graduate and acquire some recognised degree of some sort, ohhh....it's time to settle down, make some babies, clean some diapers, chase the kids around the house like a madman, shouting "oi! eat your cereal you @#$&! "(it's fool proof, they will never figure out what you're saying, unless your kids are like some freaks from 'Baby Geniuses' or 'Looks Who's Talking' which i tell you, they make me wanna go sterile once and for all). So..there's never really much time to explore the 'yuppie' age. Never really much time to work our asses off. Never really much time to care about anything else.

At age 20 :
Singporeans - 2nd year uni
Americans - 3rd / final year
British - 3rd year
PRC-ians - 2nd / 3rd year
Indians - 2nd year
M'sians form sixers - noobs

I mean, it aint a level playing ground here. S'porean kids learn and master algebra during their primary school years. We only begun to understand our abc's in form 3. That's a massive 5 years apart! We've got like a whole lot of catching up to do and when you're getting old(er), running too fast is detrimental...to say the least.

Dog Eat Dog

2004-09-03T21:42:00.000+08:00

Today is friday, the fifth (or sixth, whichever religion you are) day of the week, which.. gives me ample excuse to summarise the week as a whole.I had the worst week ever. Not just one day. Not even two. Three would have been just right but nOooOoo.... instead, it was 5 freakingly shitty days in a row. It doesnt rain but it pours, whoever was the smart alec who came up with this phrase, it's such a pity you didnt win the Nobel Peace Price. Instead those blind rats decided to award it to that eternal optimist with round specs and white loin cloths whom i suppose dont even know rain exists. Great. Just great.

Do i look like a blockhead to you?
Do i look like i have 'Loser' embossed on my forehead?
Do i look like mongrel who goes around begging for people to "take me in, oh please, take me in sir"?
Do i? Huh? Do I??

Monday's always shitty, they say.
Tuesday came along and said "It's my turn today!"
Poor little Wednesday too wanted to play
So he went to ask Thursday if it's ok

And Thursday thought it would be great
If Wednesday and Friday all cooperate
To search a girl across the straits
And place a bomb atop her head

So soon they came upon a place
N-U-S : its name ablaze
Full of twiggies in a craze
Thursday Friday Wednesday raced

As they came upon a wooden door
"SueAnn SueAnn!" Wednesday roared
Ginga-ly emerged, she placed her feet ashore
On the feet of Time she crumbled once more.

Argh.

I feel so much like quitting. Nothing seems to work for me anymore. Can someone teach me the art of eating alone and not feeling like an uber-loser? This is one skill that will certainly come in handy especially in hostile places like these. I sick of being obliged to smile at just about anyone simply to be accepted into the 'scene'. How do people do it like it comes naturally? How they fit into the social strata like a glove, a second skin? I simply cannot comprehend why it has (always) been this hard for me to be part of something , or someone for that matter. It is this sour aftertaste that creeps up when an event has finished and you end up feeling like you've sucked up enough and now its time to melt. You heave a sigh of relieve and along with it, trickles a bitter tear, that soaks up your entirety and envelopes the meaning of life. "There you go" it tells. Yes, I know. Then, you'll have to settle with the fact that this is nothing BUT life and there's nothing we can do about it. It's the way things go.

Dog eat dog.

G-Max Bungy!

2004-08-29T19:45:00.000+08:00

I went Bungy!!

Yes, i did!Seriously!

Unbelievable, i know.

Me, the perpetual coward, strapped onto a metal spherical contraption that catapults living, breathing human beings to great heights, 60m up in the air at a speed of 200kph and then leaving it to gravity and fate do its job after that. That's like the most absurd thing ever. But, yea, i did it.
I was forced to do it.
Chip made me do it.
Yea, blame chip.
And thanks to him, i had the most exhilirating time ever.
One of his friends said i was screaming my head off like there was no tomorrow, scaring the shat out of everyone waiting in line far below. So yea, that was how jakun i was.But it was awesome.And the view around Clarke Quay at 12 midnight, 250 feet in the air, with nothing around us but two metal rods and a whole lot of sky was breathtaking and romantic to say the least.

Malay-ed Boredom

2004-08-23T12:29:00.000+08:00

I'm bored stiff. Sunday's have always been boring in nus, dont ask me why. Man....i think i'll try typing in malay, since there's nothing quite like it going on over here.

aduhai....hari ini bosan sial. Tidak tau nak pergi mana atau buat apa walaupun masih tertinggal banyak hal and perkara yang perlu dibuat. Terperap dalam bilik sepanjang hari, lebih lebih lagi, makan biskut "terhadam" (dunno what's the word for 'digestives') untuk sarapan petang hari ini lagi. Mak dan nek tentu akan naik darah terdengar saya makan makanan sebegini setiap hari. Tapi, apa boleh buat? Makanan di s'pura ini, bukan sahaja terlalu mahal, lebih lebih lagi tak ada rasa. Memang terkenang akan makanan di PJ, roti canai kat restoran mamak sebegitu besar dan berisi. Roti prata kat s'pura ini pula keci sial, tikus makan pun tak cukup. Pada asalnya, nak pergi bersarapan dengan aunt marlyne kat medan selera yang menghidang teh tarik syok di clementi. Mana tau...aunt marlyne ada perkara lain yang perlu diselesaikan, di'postpone'kan ke minggu depan. Maka....hari ini, sesuntuk hari di bilik lo.

Aduhai...memang terkenang akan makanan dan keluarga kat m'sia. Setiap hari terjaga dari tidur pasti akan berharap saya masih berada di rumah sendiri, menunggu nenek memasak makanan yang sedap sial untuk sarapan. Terkenang juga akan masa mag dan saya keluar untuk membeli belah kat 1U. Di nus pulak, mereka ghairah menelaah pelajaran dan tidak keluar dari bilik mereka untuk pergi mambo atau 'wet' kat pusat membeli belah. Tempat yang paling syok yang penah saya pergi untuk membeli belah ialah Fairprice NTUC. Kesian betul. Dan benda yang paling mewah yang pernah saya beli ialah....um.....penyapu berbatang besi.

Tapi...masih terdapat banyak kerja yang belum saya siapkan di sini. Jadi, sekiranya saya mengumumkan kepulangan saya kepada ayah, tentu dimarah kau-kau. Tambang bas juga mahal sial. Aduhai...walaupun KL taklah begitu jauh dari pulau yang keci molek ini, tapi masih susah nak pulang rumah. Tak apalah....september masih berpeluang pulang. Masa itu, tentu akan menghargai masa dengan ahli keluarga dan kawan-kawan dan of course, chip.

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Oh damm...my malay!!! It's going down the drain!!! Oh no no no.....

Laptop

2004-08-21T14:52:00.000+08:00

One reason to celebrate : I finally got my laptop!! *skips around the room* After waiting for almost one month, i've at last garnered a medium of privacy for myself. And thank goodness for some ingenius smartypants who has created the most wonderful device ever, Skype, i can now literally chat online without worrying about the the phone bill and my dad's blood pressure.

Arghhh....can somebody refresh me on whatheheck is pKa and pKeq and pH!!! I'm most probably the dumbest person in the entire tutorial class. See what can six months of idling can do to the human brain? It shuts it down...and it takes one hell of a tutorial class to reactivate it and shake it back to its (non)senses. Gosh these s'porean kids, they actually FINISH their homework!

NUS rocks ( :-0 ) because.....

1. It's queaky clean loos
2. Efficient transport systems
3. Well-planned strategic locations
4. Friendly staff
5. Top-notch security systems
6. Some of S.E.A.'s most beautiful men (thanks to NS)
7. Most of S.E.A.'s most gorgeous women (thanks to Slim 10)
8. Uncle Mee Pok stall speaks Teochew rather than Canto
9. NUS Jazz Band
10. There's a NUS TV website where we can catch S'pore Idol online

Homesick

2004-08-15T16:27:00.000+08:00

Oh shit, i miss home sooo much.

Especially on this sun-sunny sunday where unfortunately, i'm stuck in the central library, typing away coz my laptop is still MIA. Most of the dorm rats are back home eating home cooked food and watching the olympics on TV already and i'm still here, feeling so darn hungry because i don't wanna spend another singaporean cent on overpriced nothing-compared-to-kl food.

Got a lecture from dad the other day regarding the phone bill. Called chip the other day using the international phone line for 35 minutes and blady heck, the phone bill was a friggin 83 ringgit! So....now, the only mode of conversation i can relegate on is thru sms or worse still, telepathy. Gosh, i miss him soo much. Last week's trip back home was a real eye opener in terms of our relationship progression. I've never realised how much i missed him until i was in his arms again. Pure heaven! He sent me off at the bus station on monday evening and when the bus took its leave and me seeing him standing outside, waving me off, i felt a sudden tug at my heartstrings. I knew then, that, even though i was 'leaving' him, i don't think that i'll ever be 'away' from him. In other sense, i've got a gut feeling that we'll always stay together, distance or otherwise. Chip, if you're reading this, this is my mode of transparency to you. I'll remain so till i can see and hear you again, personally.

Dad's coming down next week to sign the guarantor form for the tuition fee loan. I just can't wait. Finally, someone from home! Think i'll be asking him to buy some liquid detergent down as the clothes i laid into the washing machines to be washed always have a funny fishy stench. My best bet is that it's from the guys' sweaty sports outfit after their ball games and stuff. Ugh!

Classes will be moving full force ahead starting next week. Have spent like, 20 sing bucks on printing stacks upon stacks of notes, which is painfully, burning a huge hole in my pocket. I have to be more thrifty already (replacing meals with biscuits is one alternative). Dont think i'll be able to go home during the weekends reason being 1. The bus fare is cutthroat and 2. I have pracs on sat morns. Looks like the next time i'll be back home will be in september during the 5-day long holiday. Simply envy those people staying in JB, where it's only like a measly 1 hour trip back to h-s-h.

Oh lynn, you wanted to know about the bash? Yep, i wore that top i 'stole' from you. Hehe. But, the clubbing scene in s'pore is not much different from the one back in kl. They have the same dress (or lack of) sense and the same clubbing scene. If you ever were to come down, go check out Chinablack or Rouge Club along Orchard Rd and obviously, the mother hen - Zouk. It's Ladies' Night on Thurs back in KL right? In s'pore, it's Wednesday Mambo night where ladies are granted free entrance and free flow of house pours, if i'm not mistaken. Cool huh? Sad thing is, i have classes on thurs morning.