I wonder how on earth a Straits Times journalist managed to make the cut. I've never liked her writing but this one takes the cake:
Lifestyle, The Sunday Times, August 31, 2008.
Cheap & Good
by Tan Hsueh Yun
"One of the newest burger joints in town has a story behind it that is the stuff of legend: Hotshots Flame-Grilled Burgers started in 1999 in Manila. The stall in a gravel parking lot was so humble there were no seats."
- You call this the stuff of legend?
"The main reason is that the burger patties are hand-shaped - no frozen, ready-made patties for these hotshots. Then there's the thrill from the grill, a beguiling, smoky flavour that comes when meat hits hot metal."
- "When meat hits hot metal". Is there any other way to grill a burger?
"But lack of consistency can bring a good burger down. The patty on the Real Bleu Cheese Burger ($5.50) was a tad dry, but the two in the Ultimate Cheeseburger ($8) were juicy. Yet I am craving the blue cheese burger as I write this."
- This woman needs her pills.
What is wrong with Lifestyle? What happened to all the editors? How can this article be published on the national Sunday newspaper? Did this journalist actually pass the writing test?
Any of my Journalism coursemates can write ten times better than this. It's really quite a shame when you have really good ST journalists like Jonathan Eyal, Sandra Davie and Lydia Lim and then you flip over to the Lifestyle food section and you read this hotshot article from Tan Hsueh Yun.
This is entirely my own opinion, by the way.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
The Blackjack Age
Thank you, everyone who came (minus Jamie and Yue Hao because they went off earlier). The venue was a restaurant called The Garden Slug (the staff call themselves 'sluggers') at the Bright Centre, which is apparently not very bright according to friends who were trying to find it at night, safely tucked at 55 Lorong L Telok Kurau. Doesn't sound very glamorous, but hey I'm not Angelina Jolie so who cares.
I had fun. I hope everyone had fun too. Food was all right, but the chocolate popsicles were a hit. Poor Deedee was left with only one.
The amusing thing is that I got mostly books or book vouchers as gifts. I even got a book on great speeches, which I will certainly study devotedly so I can make great speeches one fine day.
"Ya you definitely give off bookworm vibes! Now you can go get a book on clouds..or trees..or whatever strange subject you're into now."
- Nuria Ling, when I told her that there must have been a book conspiracy among them.
Some memorable birthday wishes:
"Have a great party, but do miss me (and my now famed womb) while you are at it. Loads of fun and don't you think of too deep thoughts during your birthday and give them all Big Bear hugs!"
- Deanna Tan. I once interviewed her for my assignment on pro-baby policies. When asked why she wants to give birth, she said: "So I can make my womb useful." Of course I had to quote her during my presentation.
"Congratulations on becoming 21 now. And to your philosophies as well as Parkinson's Disease and throw-head-back laughter that I will never forget."
- Felicia Ng. During one of my speech classes I was told by my teacher that I tend to shake my shoulders when I talk, and once I laughed so hard over some stupid joke that I hit the wall behind me with my head.
"Aspiring, inquiring, someone who'll never stop at second best! That's how I know you to be."
- Cathy Chia.
"Looking back, it's kinda funny that we can actually have loads of decent conversations with each other as 'airheads' and 'intellects' don't really produce a balanced equation."
- Fizzah aka Tyra Banks. I don't really know what she means, but 'balanced' sounds good so rock on.
Me: "Hey, thanks for the birthday wish. I appreciate it."
Ivan the Serbian Husky: "You're welcome. You're old now."
Me: "Yeah, I'm an old hag now with falling teeth."
Ivan: "And hair."
"Happy Birthday Eveline! I hope you're enjoying making fun of America now that you're back in Singapore."
-Sam Tham I Am. Yes indeed I'm enjoying it a whole lot.
"Happy birthday, my very intelligent and wonderfully demented Asian friend. I wish you all the best. The best travels. The best life. The best psychiatrists. :D"
- Sofija the Crazy Montenegran Woman who would probably share the best psychiatrists with me.
"I look forward to seeing your byline someday at Reuters or at the New York Times."
- Yi Wen Tan, my babysitter. I sure hope so too. :)
"UNMELTABLE. Have the kind of birthday that only you can, Miss. And try to have one worthy of you."
- Scott aka Mr. Wonderful. Yes I can, and yes I did. Anyway he calls me "Unmeltable" because I was wearing my M&M Unmeltables shirt when I met him. I call him "Mr. Wonderful" because he was wearing a Mr. Wonderful shirt when he met me. Moral of the story: don't wear stupid T-shirts.
Whoever is reading this and has wished me "Happy Birthday" on Facebook, phone message or in person, thank you. If your wish doesn't make it into the Hallmark of Memorableness, it doesn't mean that it is any less important.
I'm now legal, friends! Come break the law with me!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Memories of you in a film that will never fade
I met Mademoiselle on Facebook! Happy me, happy me!
Aurelia is leaving school one year earlier in France for some complicated reasons, but those reasons don't really matter. I understand that she's doing something that she thinks is best for herself, so that's what's important. She said Anais is still in England, and Melissa has been doing an internship in France and is now at her brother's place in Brittany (western France).
12:54am Aurélia: it's so sad that we have met....but maybe wont meet again...
I also met really nice Japanese people in new york (if u look at my pictures u will see some of them) but maybe I wont see them anymore...pf...I hate that.
12:55am Eveline: haha i used to think that way too but what matters is we had fun together! you guys have changed me, in all honesty.
12:56am Aurélia: Its so nice from y-wen to have prepared the CD! Ilove it.
really?? ina positive way? ;-)
12:56am Eveline: yeah, definitely. everytime i meet a French person i can say i know 4 French girls who always say "putain" and "merde".
haha no, really, i'll always remember you girls.
so dont be sad about not meeting someone again.
i'm sure you'll keep a small part of that person and vice versa.
12:58am Aurélia: I try but its not that easy.
maybe ur right.......
12:59am Eveline: of course i'm right.
I was joking with her and suddenly I remembered that I used to always make fun of something about her, but I can't remember what it is. And suddenly I kind of felt a pit open in my gut, because the realization dawned on me that I'm forgetting the little things about her, and if I start losing my memories of her then what do I have left of her?
We may forget the things that people do, but we will never forget how they make us feel. Because the heart remembers in a way that the brain can't. That's how simple it is.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Karma bit me in the butt
Karma exists, for sure.
When I was 13 I pulled a really mean prank on a friend. She was furious at an Indonesian guy and she basically asked me to teach her how to make someone cry in Bahasa Indonesia. I said, "Perkosa aku", which means "Rape me." And she proceeded to tell the Indonesian guy, "Perkosa aku." She refused to talk to me for a week.
Recently my ex-GP teacher pulled a similar stunt. She can speak advanced Japanese so I told her the things that Yuko taught me. "Anata wa kirei kute, yasahii kute, kawaii kute, zenbu saiko" which means "You are beautiful, sweet, cute and everything nice."
She said:
"Did she really teach you to say people were KIREI, YASASHII and all that ? So sweet! I teach you some also... you can tell people, "Anata wa buta mitai. Totemo futoteimashita...fuwa fuwa ne!" (it means you look lovely, just like a flower)"
I said that to Jeanne and she said I'm very mean.
Confused, I asked Yuko what it means and she said: "It means you're fat and fluffy."
I was thinking, thank God I didn't say that to Yuko otherwise she would have turned me into a dumpling.
And this is what my ex-GP teacher said after she knew her game was up:
"So desu! ;) I thought "fuwa fuwa" would trick you because it sounds like "flower" doesn't it?"
Can you believe that she was actually my teacher?
When I was 13 I pulled a really mean prank on a friend. She was furious at an Indonesian guy and she basically asked me to teach her how to make someone cry in Bahasa Indonesia. I said, "Perkosa aku", which means "Rape me." And she proceeded to tell the Indonesian guy, "Perkosa aku." She refused to talk to me for a week.
Recently my ex-GP teacher pulled a similar stunt. She can speak advanced Japanese so I told her the things that Yuko taught me. "Anata wa kirei kute, yasahii kute, kawaii kute, zenbu saiko" which means "You are beautiful, sweet, cute and everything nice."
She said:
"Did she really teach you to say people were KIREI, YASASHII and all that ? So sweet! I teach you some also... you can tell people, "Anata wa buta mitai. Totemo futoteimashita...fuwa fuwa ne!" (it means you look lovely, just like a flower)"
I said that to Jeanne and she said I'm very mean.
Confused, I asked Yuko what it means and she said: "It means you're fat and fluffy."
I was thinking, thank God I didn't say that to Yuko otherwise she would have turned me into a dumpling.
And this is what my ex-GP teacher said after she knew her game was up:
"So desu! ;) I thought "fuwa fuwa" would trick you because it sounds like "flower" doesn't it?"
Can you believe that she was actually my teacher?
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Running on Nitro
I'm the sort of person who runs on Nitro. I remember playing this racing game on the now-extinct Sega game console with my brothers when I was younger, and there's this special fuel called the Nitro. When you are lagging way behind your competitors (which is often my case), you press the Nitro button and your car will shoot forward with a breathtaking speed and you'll feel very gleeful because you manage to overtake all the other cars. But once the Nitro runs out you go back to your normal speed and get overtaken again by your rivals. A day in a loser's life.
Yesterday I was running all over the place to write a news story on the Public Assistance Scheme that was due 11 pm the same night. Interviewed a security guard, a salesman, a sundry shopkeeper, a marketing executive and a self-employed worker. On the street, at shopping centres, on the MRT. You'll be surprised how forthcoming Singaporeans can be if you really show an interest in listening to them.
Today I feel absolutely wretched and unproductive. Made so many errors I feel like I'd left my brain at the Singapore Parliament the day before. First error, I left my laptop charger at home, thus I'm now typing away on my roomie's laptop while she's away. Second error, I forgot to bring my towel to the shower last night, which resulted in a very awkward situation, shall not elaborate. Third error, I forgot that there's no Training Orchestra practice tomorrow, thus I had said no to something for nothing.
I spent one entire month preparing for Sojourn, going to Germany and Belgium, and finally writing a story based on my trip. I remember days of researching and nights of typing and plenty of eyebags. After I sent it to Mr. Duffy, my teacher in charge of the program, I felt a great sense of liberation and proceeded to make full use of my liberation by doing absolutely nothing productive for the next few weeks till school started.
I need more balance.
Yesterday I was running all over the place to write a news story on the Public Assistance Scheme that was due 11 pm the same night. Interviewed a security guard, a salesman, a sundry shopkeeper, a marketing executive and a self-employed worker. On the street, at shopping centres, on the MRT. You'll be surprised how forthcoming Singaporeans can be if you really show an interest in listening to them.
Today I feel absolutely wretched and unproductive. Made so many errors I feel like I'd left my brain at the Singapore Parliament the day before. First error, I left my laptop charger at home, thus I'm now typing away on my roomie's laptop while she's away. Second error, I forgot to bring my towel to the shower last night, which resulted in a very awkward situation, shall not elaborate. Third error, I forgot that there's no Training Orchestra practice tomorrow, thus I had said no to something for nothing.
I spent one entire month preparing for Sojourn, going to Germany and Belgium, and finally writing a story based on my trip. I remember days of researching and nights of typing and plenty of eyebags. After I sent it to Mr. Duffy, my teacher in charge of the program, I felt a great sense of liberation and proceeded to make full use of my liberation by doing absolutely nothing productive for the next few weeks till school started.
I need more balance.
Monday, August 25, 2008
The day I got kicked out of the Singapore Parliament for "unacceptable footwear"
Let me tell you a story.
Today I was supposed to go to the Singapore Parliament to write a news story for my Public Affairs Reporting Class.
My classmates and I boarded a bright banana yellow bus that then transported us from Pulau NTU to civilization, and not just any civilization but a very intelligent civilization called the Singapore Parliament, resplendent in its red and dotty aura.
We queued up like the good kids that we were, waiting for our turn to enter the Forbidden City of Public Policy.
Then all hell broke loose. Two classmates got kicked out because they were wearing jeans. I thought, sibei heng ah, I was wearing my striped smart shirt and pants, all black for that dash of austerity some would associate with funeral parlours.
I got the pass, gleefully placed my bag on the conveyor belt, walked through the metal detector, picked up my bag, and got stopped.
The judgment came like a thunder bolt: My footwear was unacceptable. I pleaded with the official, I tried to convince him that my Charles & Keith footwear was professional-looking enough, I said I didn't know they were considered sandals/slippers. All to no avail. I was guilty of Contempt of Parliament's Sense of Aesthetics. I was convicted of visual terrorism.
I walked out, asked a security guard if he had an extra pair of shoes (who knows), and it took him 10 seconds to determine that, no, he did not have a pair of spare heels tucked somewhere in his locker.
So I went out to find a cheap pair of shoes. During my quest for the Cheap Ones, I crossed paths with a few classmates who were also hunting frantically for a replacement of their offending item: pants, skirts, shoes, lingeries. Kidding about the last item.
And then I discovered Bata and bought the cheapest pair of heels there, and proceeded to wobble back to the Parliament with the grace of a pregnant duck. I was thinking, perfect, now I'll only be kicked out for falling all over an MP, and then I'll be charged with Contempt of Parliament's Sense of Modesty.
Praise be to the Not So Cheap Ones, I was now deemed fit to stamp the marks of my heels on the Parliament's floor. And boy, did I enjoy hearing the resounding sound of my CLACK CLACK CLACK across the vast marble. All hail the power of Bata Surround Sound.
I confidently walked into the Public Gallery, bowed to the Speaker of the Parliament, sat down, took out my notebook and my trusted Pilot G2 pen precision 0.5, got ready to write amazing soundbites down and realized that the debate I had looked forward to was already over.
Moral of the story, to those of you who are rather slow: Wear acceptable footwear when you go to the Singapore Parliament.
Today I was supposed to go to the Singapore Parliament to write a news story for my Public Affairs Reporting Class.
My classmates and I boarded a bright banana yellow bus that then transported us from Pulau NTU to civilization, and not just any civilization but a very intelligent civilization called the Singapore Parliament, resplendent in its red and dotty aura.
We queued up like the good kids that we were, waiting for our turn to enter the Forbidden City of Public Policy.
Then all hell broke loose. Two classmates got kicked out because they were wearing jeans. I thought, sibei heng ah, I was wearing my striped smart shirt and pants, all black for that dash of austerity some would associate with funeral parlours.
I got the pass, gleefully placed my bag on the conveyor belt, walked through the metal detector, picked up my bag, and got stopped.
The judgment came like a thunder bolt: My footwear was unacceptable. I pleaded with the official, I tried to convince him that my Charles & Keith footwear was professional-looking enough, I said I didn't know they were considered sandals/slippers. All to no avail. I was guilty of Contempt of Parliament's Sense of Aesthetics. I was convicted of visual terrorism.
I walked out, asked a security guard if he had an extra pair of shoes (who knows), and it took him 10 seconds to determine that, no, he did not have a pair of spare heels tucked somewhere in his locker.
So I went out to find a cheap pair of shoes. During my quest for the Cheap Ones, I crossed paths with a few classmates who were also hunting frantically for a replacement of their offending item: pants, skirts, shoes, lingeries. Kidding about the last item.
And then I discovered Bata and bought the cheapest pair of heels there, and proceeded to wobble back to the Parliament with the grace of a pregnant duck. I was thinking, perfect, now I'll only be kicked out for falling all over an MP, and then I'll be charged with Contempt of Parliament's Sense of Modesty.
Praise be to the Not So Cheap Ones, I was now deemed fit to stamp the marks of my heels on the Parliament's floor. And boy, did I enjoy hearing the resounding sound of my CLACK CLACK CLACK across the vast marble. All hail the power of Bata Surround Sound.
I confidently walked into the Public Gallery, bowed to the Speaker of the Parliament, sat down, took out my notebook and my trusted Pilot G2 pen precision 0.5, got ready to write amazing soundbites down and realized that the debate I had looked forward to was already over.
Moral of the story, to those of you who are rather slow: Wear acceptable footwear when you go to the Singapore Parliament.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
"Even if you end up as a toilet cleaner, be a damn good toilet cleaner!"
I slipped on the NIE hill this afternoon. Ended up with a BI-YO-TI-FUL bruise the size of Australia on my knee and a small cut on my big toe.
Drenched in the rain, couldn't find SMU School of Accountancy where the University Education Forum was held. Emerged into the lecture hall looking like a mutt just rescued from drowning in a reservoir.
Went to my friend's birthday party. Asked three different people for directions and got three effing WRONG directions. Pissed me off no end. When in doubt, DON'T GIVE DIRECTIONS. Just. Don't.
Wasn't a good day.
Wish I could say more about the University Education Forum because it was really quite interesting, but my brain is currently out of juice. Washed away by the rain, now flowing in the drain. Anyway, to quote Prof. Cherian George, I got to know about things that I didn't know I didn't know. Seriously, the moment you think you know everything is the moment everything you know becomes, well, nothing much.
Come to think of it, there are only a few teachers in CS that I really respect. Four, to be exact. The rest, I'm sorry, I do not care much of. I skipped 90 per cent of the lectures for this course last last semester because I thought that the lecturer was bollocks. Frothing at the mouth with abstractness, theories, airy fairy tinky winky stuff.
It's amusing how people have told me that I have 'a journalistic instinct', or that they really can imagine me as a journalist. I didn't end up in journalism by choice. Law rejected me fair and square. My ex-GP teacher advised me to try NTU Mass Communication, with a parting shot that will remain with me for a long time: "Even if you end up as a toilet cleaner, be a damn good toilet cleaner!" I thought I couldn't possibly screw up my future even further, so I went for it, and the rest is just another day in my life as an undergraduate currently with a bruise the size of Australia on my knee and a small cut on my big toe.
We're fortune's fools, aren't we?
Anyway, now I always think: be good, be bad, be whatever, but just be. Make the stupidest choice ever if you may, as long as you really believe in making the stupidest choice ever. Even if you do something really stupid, you'll learn from it because it was after all your own choice. Imagine if you follow what daddy says and end up hating whatever it is you end up with. Then you'll blame daddy all your life and, worse, you'll keep thinking that you deserve better when the only thing you deserve is really moving on and making the most of what you have now.
Do whatever you want, but don't regret. Your mistakes might have led you to the people who are important to you now.
Aight, adios amigo, I need to apply some ointment.
Drenched in the rain, couldn't find SMU School of Accountancy where the University Education Forum was held. Emerged into the lecture hall looking like a mutt just rescued from drowning in a reservoir.
Went to my friend's birthday party. Asked three different people for directions and got three effing WRONG directions. Pissed me off no end. When in doubt, DON'T GIVE DIRECTIONS. Just. Don't.
Wasn't a good day.
Wish I could say more about the University Education Forum because it was really quite interesting, but my brain is currently out of juice. Washed away by the rain, now flowing in the drain. Anyway, to quote Prof. Cherian George, I got to know about things that I didn't know I didn't know. Seriously, the moment you think you know everything is the moment everything you know becomes, well, nothing much.
Come to think of it, there are only a few teachers in CS that I really respect. Four, to be exact. The rest, I'm sorry, I do not care much of. I skipped 90 per cent of the lectures for this course last last semester because I thought that the lecturer was bollocks. Frothing at the mouth with abstractness, theories, airy fairy tinky winky stuff.
It's amusing how people have told me that I have 'a journalistic instinct', or that they really can imagine me as a journalist. I didn't end up in journalism by choice. Law rejected me fair and square. My ex-GP teacher advised me to try NTU Mass Communication, with a parting shot that will remain with me for a long time: "Even if you end up as a toilet cleaner, be a damn good toilet cleaner!" I thought I couldn't possibly screw up my future even further, so I went for it, and the rest is just another day in my life as an undergraduate currently with a bruise the size of Australia on my knee and a small cut on my big toe.
We're fortune's fools, aren't we?
Anyway, now I always think: be good, be bad, be whatever, but just be. Make the stupidest choice ever if you may, as long as you really believe in making the stupidest choice ever. Even if you do something really stupid, you'll learn from it because it was after all your own choice. Imagine if you follow what daddy says and end up hating whatever it is you end up with. Then you'll blame daddy all your life and, worse, you'll keep thinking that you deserve better when the only thing you deserve is really moving on and making the most of what you have now.
Do whatever you want, but don't regret. Your mistakes might have led you to the people who are important to you now.
Aight, adios amigo, I need to apply some ointment.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Huge balls of interjection
I miss Predrag. At least I've been somewhat in contact with the rest of my Mizzou friends, but so far there has been a total news blackout when it comes to Predrag. Just now he said "Heeeeeeeeey youuuuuuuuu. What's upppppppppp." on Facebook, but before I could give an equally asinine reply he had gone offline. -_- According to Megan the Internet connection in Montenegro is a first class vacuum cleaner. It sucks big time.Predrag reminds me of a hamster. And John Lennon. And a hippie. Talking to him is really easy because we are both on the same twisted wavelength. He's getting married to the girl of his dreams, Merziha (I don't know if I spelt that correctly). I promised him I'll be their flower girl on their wedding day but he said NONONO. Unappreciative bastard. I would love to meet Merziha someday though. Predrag showed me her picture once and she has kind eyes. Yes, some people do have kind eyes, I don't know how to explain.
Sofija is now in Moscow on a scholarship. Going to St. Petersburg tomorrow. I learned four things about Russia from her:
1. Russia is actually pretty sunny, although it's really dark and grey and bleak and scary in some places. Like Mordor, the Land of Darkness in Lord of the Rings.
2. Russians are actually cheerful and friendly, but most of them are always drunk. Which explains why they are always cheerful and friendly, in my opinion. And the fact that Sofija speaks fluent Russian might help a lot. Plus she's not Georgian. Plus she has abnormally long legs (which are about as long as my full body). Plus she's decent looking.
3. You need HUGE balls to travel to Russia alone (her words, not mine). Apparently Sofija has huge balls that scare off all potential muggers. Ballful Montenegran woman, I'm proud of her.
4. There are many six-lane roads and traffic lights that BEEP BEEP BEEP for exactly 25 seconds. So 6, 5, 4 more seconds to live, and you just RUN, huge balls and all.
---
I've been blogging too much for my own good. It's just that I hate to lose my train of thought. Like just now I was walking from my school to canteen A and suddenly I had this thought that made me go, "Damn it, why didn't I think of this before?" and now I've completely forgotten about it. I don't know about you but I absolutely hate forgetting things that I didn't want to forget.
Fifteen minutes ago I half-heartedly did my part for the 401 proposal and sent it to my groupmates so they can...improve. I realized that has been my modus operandi since school started: half-heartedness. You have no idea how many things I did only to discard halfway.
Anyway, talking about school. I have been arguing with Margie in every single Issues in Crime and Punishment lecture and I thought she hates my guts, but today I walked past her and she said: "I like your interjections." Wow, Margie likes my interjections. Cool stuff, perhaps she would like a plate of scones to go with that? All right, I'm being an ass. I do like Margie. She's like the grandma you hate at the beginning but gradually like.
Plus I met a French exchange student called Cecilia while waiting for the shuttle bus that runs on hundreds of snails and we talked quite a bit. She has a craving for salad. Now where on earth can you find good salad in Singapore? The French and their rabbit food. But hey, I've never seen a fat French woman so go figure.
Off I go to develop some balls so I can go to Russia someday.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Let's see how long I can ramble
Talked to Anamaria, Ivan, Anni and Megan in the last two days. Felt really glad. Thank you, Facebook chat feature.
Anamaria had graduated with a degree in Psychology in Romania, considering a Masters but now being stuck in an extended autopilot mode, just like I am.
"You now talk like a Buddha prophet." - Anamaria to me. She meant Buddhist monk.
Ivan just came back to Serbia after being in France for one month. He's considering a Masters in Sociology. And he's missing the US.
"Yes I still do want to burn a certain embassy."
Anni is learning how to teach Religion. Nowadays the sun sets at around 11 pm in Finland.
"I'll post up my pictures so you can see my smile more!" - because I always tell her 'Sinulla on kiva hymy' - Finnish for 'you have a nice smile'.
Megan is stuck in "the land of ugly men with low pants." School starts next week in Columbia and she's oddly looking forward to it.
"I'd be disappointed if you weren't still an ass." - Megan to me.
Tired but I don't feel like sleeping.
Had three hours of Forensic Science lecture today. Officially brain-dead afterwards, I don't need a Forensics expert to tell me that.
I absolutely dislike black background and really tiny letters. But many people use them for their blogs. Risk myopia or being left out of the social news loop. Sometimes I choose the latter.
Waiting for somebody to upload Neo Angelique Abyss Second Age episode 7 on Crunchyroll.
Not studying, not studying, not studying. I refuse to study. Haven't been studying at home since school reopened. But I do attend tutorials and lectures.
417 presentation on Singapore's pro-baby policy went well today, although I had a facial malfunction the night before, i.e. a huge zit erupted on my forehead like Mount Vesuvius. Talk about being suay.
Have to book a restaurant soon for my birthday dinner. Going to be a close affair. I dislike bombastic parties with millions on the invite list. Birthdays are meant to be a celebration with people who really matter, not some experiment on six degrees of separation.
Enough. Good night.
Anamaria had graduated with a degree in Psychology in Romania, considering a Masters but now being stuck in an extended autopilot mode, just like I am.
"You now talk like a Buddha prophet." - Anamaria to me. She meant Buddhist monk.
Ivan just came back to Serbia after being in France for one month. He's considering a Masters in Sociology. And he's missing the US.
"Yes I still do want to burn a certain embassy."
Anni is learning how to teach Religion. Nowadays the sun sets at around 11 pm in Finland.
"I'll post up my pictures so you can see my smile more!" - because I always tell her 'Sinulla on kiva hymy' - Finnish for 'you have a nice smile'.
Megan is stuck in "the land of ugly men with low pants." School starts next week in Columbia and she's oddly looking forward to it.
"I'd be disappointed if you weren't still an ass." - Megan to me.
Tired but I don't feel like sleeping.
Had three hours of Forensic Science lecture today. Officially brain-dead afterwards, I don't need a Forensics expert to tell me that.
I absolutely dislike black background and really tiny letters. But many people use them for their blogs. Risk myopia or being left out of the social news loop. Sometimes I choose the latter.
Waiting for somebody to upload Neo Angelique Abyss Second Age episode 7 on Crunchyroll.
Not studying, not studying, not studying. I refuse to study. Haven't been studying at home since school reopened. But I do attend tutorials and lectures.
417 presentation on Singapore's pro-baby policy went well today, although I had a facial malfunction the night before, i.e. a huge zit erupted on my forehead like Mount Vesuvius. Talk about being suay.
Have to book a restaurant soon for my birthday dinner. Going to be a close affair. I dislike bombastic parties with millions on the invite list. Birthdays are meant to be a celebration with people who really matter, not some experiment on six degrees of separation.
Enough. Good night.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Angelique and her male harem
I'm obsessed with Neo Angelique Abyss. Basically about a girl who has to save the world, but that's not important. The important thing is the bevy of handsome male bodyguards she has. And the love story, not forgetting the love story. One of the guys turns superbad and Angelique has to kill him so as to save the world and yay everyone will be happy again except for Angelique because obviously she'll be crying her heart out. Reminds me of Buffy and Angel. Anyway watch it on Crunchyroll if you're interested.
417 presentation tomorrow on Singapore's pro-baby policy. What am I doing at 2:30 in the morning?
Sunday, August 17, 2008
.
There was a rabbit called Bunny.
He fell in love and out of love.
Why, he has no idea.
All he knows is it doesn't matter now.
It's gone and so is he.
Bunny would say to the sky:
I forgot how I used to say things just because.
I forgot how I used to look forward to tomorrow because you were there.
But the sky never replies, because it is after all the sky.
Bunny hops here and there,
hoping he'll find the one he loved (maybe still loves) dearly.
Perhaps by some cosmic miracle they will meet.
But always, it is not to be.
Bunny would say to the flower:
I forgot how I used to listen to a song just because it reminds me of you.
I forgot how I used to think about you and nothing else.
But the flower never replies, because it is after all the flower.
Bunny cries at times.
He thinks it's stupid, but he still does.
Somebody said you can hold back your tears,
somebody lied.
Bunny would say to the stars:
I forgot how I used to feel like my chest is going to burst anytime.
I forgot how I used to love.
But the stars never reply, because they are after all the stars.
Bunny wonders if there's a meaning to failed love.
If something will have to end, it should never have started, should it?
Bunny has been looking for 'why' all the time.
But there's no 'why', only a full stop.
And a full stop is what he deserves.
And this is why this story will end with a full stop.
-E.
He fell in love and out of love.
Why, he has no idea.
All he knows is it doesn't matter now.
It's gone and so is he.
Bunny would say to the sky:
I forgot how I used to say things just because.
I forgot how I used to look forward to tomorrow because you were there.
But the sky never replies, because it is after all the sky.
Bunny hops here and there,
hoping he'll find the one he loved (maybe still loves) dearly.
Perhaps by some cosmic miracle they will meet.
But always, it is not to be.
Bunny would say to the flower:
I forgot how I used to listen to a song just because it reminds me of you.
I forgot how I used to think about you and nothing else.
But the flower never replies, because it is after all the flower.
Bunny cries at times.
He thinks it's stupid, but he still does.
Somebody said you can hold back your tears,
somebody lied.
Bunny would say to the stars:
I forgot how I used to feel like my chest is going to burst anytime.
I forgot how I used to love.
But the stars never reply, because they are after all the stars.
Bunny wonders if there's a meaning to failed love.
If something will have to end, it should never have started, should it?
Bunny has been looking for 'why' all the time.
But there's no 'why', only a full stop.
And a full stop is what he deserves.
And this is why this story will end with a full stop.
-E.
You don't have to wear a perfectly vertical tie
I've given up on updating about my travel on Blogger. I've decided to do it on Facebook because it has a much more user-friendly photo uploading and captioning mechanism. It'll be under "Albums". Add me if you want to.
A few days ago I got into a huge argument with this woman at the Nanyang House Office. It's absolutely bollocks. I had wanted to borrow the key to Music Room 2 aka the Piano Room and play the grand piano for 15 minutes (I'd checked that nobody was using the room). The woman then proceeded to give a shining showcase of unsurpassed anality. She is over-qualified to conduct a Master Class in how to be a rigid right-angled rotorhead with the soul of a protractor and the flexibility of a metre-rule. She has as much backbone as a chocolate eclair.
Me: "Can I borrow a key to Music Room 2? I just to want to play the piano for about 15 minutes, and I've checked that nobody is using it."
Anal Woman: "Are you a Piano Ensemble member?"
Me: "No, but I'm a member of the String Orchestra, which is also part of the Cultural Activities Club (all the music clubs are under the CAC)."
Anal Woman: "No. You can't use Music Room 2. Only Piano Ensemble members can use it."
Me: "But I only want to use it for 15 minutes. I don't see why I can't use it when nobody is using it."
Anal Woman: "No, you can't. It's the policy."
Me (starting to lose my patience): "I understand it's the policy. But I don't see why you can't be more flexible about this. After all the piano is the school property and I am also an NTU student."
Anal Woman: "I'm not responsible for this. I'm just following the policy."
Me: "Look, if anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility for it. You won't be held responsible at all."
Anal Woman: "I still can't. It's the policy. I just follow it."
Me (officially lost my patience): "It's not as if I press one key and the whole piano will blow up."
Anal Woman: "It's the policy. It's the policy. It's the policy." (Basically that's how she replied to me everytime I said something. Like a broken record).
I wouldn't let the matter go so eventually she gave up and asked me to call a higher official.
Higher Official: "Yes, my subordinate had explained the situation to me. But it's a policy that we do not let non-members of the Piano Ensemble to use Music Room 2. We do not want to be responsible for any damage to the piano."
Me (thinking that the next time she says "It's the policy." I am going to find her and strangle her with the telephone cord): "I completely understand that Piano Ensemble members have a priority in using the music room, that's why just now I waited till two of them finished playing. But now that nobody is using the room, I really don't see why I cannot just play the piano for 15 minutes. It is after all a school property. I believe that all NTU students also have a right to use it. If you only let Piano Ensemble members play the piano, doesn't it run counter to NTU's philosophy of nurturing a vibrant arts and culture or whatever it is? If you're worried about the possible damage to the piano I'll take responsibility for any such damage, although it's quite unlikely that I'll damage a piano in like 15 minutes."
Higher Official: "Okay. Why don't you just call the Piano Ensemble Chairman and ask him for permission? This is his number."
Me: "After that do I still need to report his reply to a higher authority?"
Higher Official: "No."
So I called the Piano Ensemble Chairman, who turned out to be quite a nice guy. Bottom line is he gave me the permission to play the piano.
Me to Anal Woman: "He said I can play the piano."
Anal Woman: "Let me talk to him." (blablabla). Eh just now he said you're Piano Ensemble member leh. He misheard you is it?"
Me (fucking lost my patience): "AIYA JUST GIVE ME THE KEY LAH!"
In the end she gave me the key and I played the piano, though for only about 20 minutes because then I had to leave to attend Guo Jing's concert at the Lee Kong Chian Lecture Theatre.
You might think I'm crazy for arguing with such a person for so long, and only to play the piano for about 20 minutes, but I've had enough of it. If you're unhappy about something, do something about it. I can't stand Singaporeans who get pissed about something but keep quiet about it, and then rush home to write a complain letter and send it to the Straits Times. What are you going to achieve? You think the person who offended you will bother to read the newspaper and feel a stab of remorse?
Stand up for yourself in a way that matters. And by standing up I don't mean shouting and beating people in the head like a barbarian. By standing up I mean voicing your displeasure in a firm but civilized way. It's a mark of real meaningful education. An educated person who cannot stand up for himself equals an educated person with his butt kicked up down left right. Staying quiet is not a way of preserving peace. It's a way of preserving an illusion of peace at best, and fostering discontent like a cauldron full of simmering Witch's Brew at worst. It's ultimately for your own good. You don't want to end up like Vince Li, the man who hacked at and decapitated a completely innocent passenger next to him on a bus in Canada.
And to all you bureaucrats out there, please, just get a life, get a personality, get a mind of your own, get a soul, get a dose of common sense, get a backbone. Everything that exists must have a reason to exist. A law is created because there is a need for it. When such a need is absent, the minimum that one can do is to adopt a certain flexibility in interpreting the law. The law is not the reason for your existence - it was created to make your existence a better one in the first place.
A few days ago I got into a huge argument with this woman at the Nanyang House Office. It's absolutely bollocks. I had wanted to borrow the key to Music Room 2 aka the Piano Room and play the grand piano for 15 minutes (I'd checked that nobody was using the room). The woman then proceeded to give a shining showcase of unsurpassed anality. She is over-qualified to conduct a Master Class in how to be a rigid right-angled rotorhead with the soul of a protractor and the flexibility of a metre-rule. She has as much backbone as a chocolate eclair.
Me: "Can I borrow a key to Music Room 2? I just to want to play the piano for about 15 minutes, and I've checked that nobody is using it."
Anal Woman: "Are you a Piano Ensemble member?"
Me: "No, but I'm a member of the String Orchestra, which is also part of the Cultural Activities Club (all the music clubs are under the CAC)."
Anal Woman: "No. You can't use Music Room 2. Only Piano Ensemble members can use it."
Me: "But I only want to use it for 15 minutes. I don't see why I can't use it when nobody is using it."
Anal Woman: "No, you can't. It's the policy."
Me (starting to lose my patience): "I understand it's the policy. But I don't see why you can't be more flexible about this. After all the piano is the school property and I am also an NTU student."
Anal Woman: "I'm not responsible for this. I'm just following the policy."
Me: "Look, if anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility for it. You won't be held responsible at all."
Anal Woman: "I still can't. It's the policy. I just follow it."
Me (officially lost my patience): "It's not as if I press one key and the whole piano will blow up."
Anal Woman: "It's the policy. It's the policy. It's the policy." (Basically that's how she replied to me everytime I said something. Like a broken record).
I wouldn't let the matter go so eventually she gave up and asked me to call a higher official.
Higher Official: "Yes, my subordinate had explained the situation to me. But it's a policy that we do not let non-members of the Piano Ensemble to use Music Room 2. We do not want to be responsible for any damage to the piano."
Me (thinking that the next time she says "It's the policy." I am going to find her and strangle her with the telephone cord): "I completely understand that Piano Ensemble members have a priority in using the music room, that's why just now I waited till two of them finished playing. But now that nobody is using the room, I really don't see why I cannot just play the piano for 15 minutes. It is after all a school property. I believe that all NTU students also have a right to use it. If you only let Piano Ensemble members play the piano, doesn't it run counter to NTU's philosophy of nurturing a vibrant arts and culture or whatever it is? If you're worried about the possible damage to the piano I'll take responsibility for any such damage, although it's quite unlikely that I'll damage a piano in like 15 minutes."
Higher Official: "Okay. Why don't you just call the Piano Ensemble Chairman and ask him for permission? This is his number."
Me: "After that do I still need to report his reply to a higher authority?"
Higher Official: "No."
So I called the Piano Ensemble Chairman, who turned out to be quite a nice guy. Bottom line is he gave me the permission to play the piano.
Me to Anal Woman: "He said I can play the piano."
Anal Woman: "Let me talk to him." (blablabla). Eh just now he said you're Piano Ensemble member leh. He misheard you is it?"
Me (fucking lost my patience): "AIYA JUST GIVE ME THE KEY LAH!"
In the end she gave me the key and I played the piano, though for only about 20 minutes because then I had to leave to attend Guo Jing's concert at the Lee Kong Chian Lecture Theatre.
You might think I'm crazy for arguing with such a person for so long, and only to play the piano for about 20 minutes, but I've had enough of it. If you're unhappy about something, do something about it. I can't stand Singaporeans who get pissed about something but keep quiet about it, and then rush home to write a complain letter and send it to the Straits Times. What are you going to achieve? You think the person who offended you will bother to read the newspaper and feel a stab of remorse?
Stand up for yourself in a way that matters. And by standing up I don't mean shouting and beating people in the head like a barbarian. By standing up I mean voicing your displeasure in a firm but civilized way. It's a mark of real meaningful education. An educated person who cannot stand up for himself equals an educated person with his butt kicked up down left right. Staying quiet is not a way of preserving peace. It's a way of preserving an illusion of peace at best, and fostering discontent like a cauldron full of simmering Witch's Brew at worst. It's ultimately for your own good. You don't want to end up like Vince Li, the man who hacked at and decapitated a completely innocent passenger next to him on a bus in Canada.
And to all you bureaucrats out there, please, just get a life, get a personality, get a mind of your own, get a soul, get a dose of common sense, get a backbone. Everything that exists must have a reason to exist. A law is created because there is a need for it. When such a need is absent, the minimum that one can do is to adopt a certain flexibility in interpreting the law. The law is not the reason for your existence - it was created to make your existence a better one in the first place.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Margie
I have a British lecturer for one of my electives. She's called Margie (possible family links to Marge Simpson). Jojo and I had a whale of a time impersonating her British accent:
"Marjhay, would tchu like a plate of scones to go with your cup of tah?"
"Shore, dah-ling."
Well, I do believe in karma, so maybe someday two girls will make fun of my accent and giggle uncontrollably. But anyway Margie is like an old gruffy cat that you warm up to gradually. The British have nationalized wit and sarcasm, and I have a soft spot for those two qualities.
"Marjhay, would tchu like a plate of scones to go with your cup of tah?"
"Shore, dah-ling."
Well, I do believe in karma, so maybe someday two girls will make fun of my accent and giggle uncontrollably. But anyway Margie is like an old gruffy cat that you warm up to gradually. The British have nationalized wit and sarcasm, and I have a soft spot for those two qualities.
Monday, August 11, 2008
My family. I have one dad, one mom and two older brothers.
My family minus my first brother on my second brother's Convocation Day more than two weeks ago. If you're wondering why I was dressed for a funeral, I didn't want to take the shine off my second brother, okay.
Anyway my mom was carrying the handbag I bought for her with my first pay ever, courtesy of the EU Delegation to Singapore. I also bought a suitcase for my dad. It's kind of nice giving them something with my own money for once.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Thinking about everything and nothing
Well the first week of school is over.
- Caught up with some friends. Actually I don't really like the term 'catching up'. When you haven't seen someone for about half a year there's no way that you can 'catch up' with him or her. There are just too many things that would be left unsaid, and unfortunately these many little things add up to quite a lot. But still, I appreciate the fact that some friends are still friends to me.
- I was reunited with my ex-room-mate, who roomed with her friend while I was away last semester. She is an Indian scholar, and lately she's been introducing me to all her Indian friends. At first I felt quite uncomfortable because I was the only non-Indian. I was worried that they would see me as an outsider, a calefare extraordinaire. But I'm glad that they kindly accept me as a friend, and even let me observe this 'orientation' where Indian seniors kind of bullied their juniors in good spirit. It is in fact a deeply ingrained tradition in India. All Indian students have gone through this initiation process - a ritual that marks their inclusion in the tightly-knit Indian society.
I was quite shocked to see this at first, and it just made me realize how little I know about people who are actually around me. I guess we don't actually need to go overseas to have an 'exchange'. It is in fact anything that involves an exchange of ideas in living, and it could even happen in our own backyards. But I would still love to go to other countries.
- I attended this talk by Middle East expert and CBS News Anchor Lawrence Pintak. I'm really fascinated by Middle East politics. I would really like to go there someday, but according to my Iraqi friend, Zainab, it would be really difficult because, firstly, I'm a girl, and secondly, my Chinese skin is instantly recognizable. I might have to go for either sex-change or plastic surgery first. To add to that I'm pretty far from being a seasoned traveller and the Middle East is like level 99 of the traveller's obstacle course. Anyway I think my parents will go ballistic if I tell them about this. They are not even willing to let me go to India or Vietnam for internship. Which brings us to the next point.
- Soon I'll have to apply for my internship. I gave SPH a miss because, I don't know, my guts told me to give it a miss. If I were to apply and get an offer from SPH, and if I accept this offer, I cannot take part in Phase 1 selection at all. All the other companies are in Phase 1. Let's just see what happens next. Anyway I'm still going to apply for GIP India or Vietnam because it's better to keep all my options open.
- I was very impressed by the Beijing Olympic's opening ceremony. The precision, the unity, the order. Well done, Beijing.
- Caught up with some friends. Actually I don't really like the term 'catching up'. When you haven't seen someone for about half a year there's no way that you can 'catch up' with him or her. There are just too many things that would be left unsaid, and unfortunately these many little things add up to quite a lot. But still, I appreciate the fact that some friends are still friends to me.
- I was reunited with my ex-room-mate, who roomed with her friend while I was away last semester. She is an Indian scholar, and lately she's been introducing me to all her Indian friends. At first I felt quite uncomfortable because I was the only non-Indian. I was worried that they would see me as an outsider, a calefare extraordinaire. But I'm glad that they kindly accept me as a friend, and even let me observe this 'orientation' where Indian seniors kind of bullied their juniors in good spirit. It is in fact a deeply ingrained tradition in India. All Indian students have gone through this initiation process - a ritual that marks their inclusion in the tightly-knit Indian society.
I was quite shocked to see this at first, and it just made me realize how little I know about people who are actually around me. I guess we don't actually need to go overseas to have an 'exchange'. It is in fact anything that involves an exchange of ideas in living, and it could even happen in our own backyards. But I would still love to go to other countries.
- I attended this talk by Middle East expert and CBS News Anchor Lawrence Pintak. I'm really fascinated by Middle East politics. I would really like to go there someday, but according to my Iraqi friend, Zainab, it would be really difficult because, firstly, I'm a girl, and secondly, my Chinese skin is instantly recognizable. I might have to go for either sex-change or plastic surgery first. To add to that I'm pretty far from being a seasoned traveller and the Middle East is like level 99 of the traveller's obstacle course. Anyway I think my parents will go ballistic if I tell them about this. They are not even willing to let me go to India or Vietnam for internship. Which brings us to the next point.
- Soon I'll have to apply for my internship. I gave SPH a miss because, I don't know, my guts told me to give it a miss. If I were to apply and get an offer from SPH, and if I accept this offer, I cannot take part in Phase 1 selection at all. All the other companies are in Phase 1. Let's just see what happens next. Anyway I'm still going to apply for GIP India or Vietnam because it's better to keep all my options open.
- I was very impressed by the Beijing Olympic's opening ceremony. The precision, the unity, the order. Well done, Beijing.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Mephistophele, thy temptation is great
This is bad. I think I'm reverting back to my old self before I went for exchange. Nothing really excites me anymore. I can't remember when I was truly, truly passionate about something. Well, I do remember - it's when i was travelling. But what's the point about that. I'm stuck here for now.
Singapore suffocates me, in every sense. I'm not being pretentious, I'm not being too emo for my own good, I'm not making a mountain out of a molehill.
I need to get out but I have to get through this semester first.
Fuck all this, I need to get out of the nothingness, the emptiness.
I don't bloody care if you think I'm being whiny.
I think I know myself better than I give myself credit for sometimes.
The big problem about me, is that I'm always looking for the extraordinary. There, I've said it.
I need to see something new. Meet someone new. Go to new places. Only then do I feel like I'm truly alive, not just existing.
This whole thing right now is just a colossal borefest to me. I derive no excitement, no exhilaration, no adrenaline rush. I'm not expecting anything, not planning for anything, not looking forward to anything. And you know what, I think this will repeat itself anywhere in the world once it gets past its sell-by date. Stay in a place for far too long and I'll feel suffocated again.
The thought of having to work here for three years to fulfill my obligations as a PR is rather daunting. My mom always chides me for complaining. She says I have no idea how fortunate I am because not everyone can be a Singapore PR. I do know, for goodness' sake. It's just that when you didn't really expect it how are you supposed to feel over the moon about it? The supreme downside of having que sera sera as your life philosophy is this: you forgot the last time you were really really really ecstatic about getting something.
Contentment is the hardest thing to achieve in this world and I'm way far from attaining it. In fact I don't know if I'll ever attain it. I'll pack up and leave Singapore this very moment if I get the chance. But the moment I abandon all my responsibilities will be the moment I become a slave to Mephistophele.
Singapore suffocates me, in every sense. I'm not being pretentious, I'm not being too emo for my own good, I'm not making a mountain out of a molehill.
I need to get out but I have to get through this semester first.
Fuck all this, I need to get out of the nothingness, the emptiness.
I don't bloody care if you think I'm being whiny.
I think I know myself better than I give myself credit for sometimes.
The big problem about me, is that I'm always looking for the extraordinary. There, I've said it.
I need to see something new. Meet someone new. Go to new places. Only then do I feel like I'm truly alive, not just existing.
This whole thing right now is just a colossal borefest to me. I derive no excitement, no exhilaration, no adrenaline rush. I'm not expecting anything, not planning for anything, not looking forward to anything. And you know what, I think this will repeat itself anywhere in the world once it gets past its sell-by date. Stay in a place for far too long and I'll feel suffocated again.
The thought of having to work here for three years to fulfill my obligations as a PR is rather daunting. My mom always chides me for complaining. She says I have no idea how fortunate I am because not everyone can be a Singapore PR. I do know, for goodness' sake. It's just that when you didn't really expect it how are you supposed to feel over the moon about it? The supreme downside of having que sera sera as your life philosophy is this: you forgot the last time you were really really really ecstatic about getting something.
Contentment is the hardest thing to achieve in this world and I'm way far from attaining it. In fact I don't know if I'll ever attain it. I'll pack up and leave Singapore this very moment if I get the chance. But the moment I abandon all my responsibilities will be the moment I become a slave to Mephistophele.
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