From brush to paper

2006-08-29T19:42:00.000-07:00

2006-08-28T10:35:00.000-07:00

2006-08-28T10:32:00.000-07:00

raffles

moving

2006-04-12T04:05:00.000-07:00

http://gurlnterrupted.wordpress.com/

update your links (: simply because.

Paris. Rome. Venice (:

2006-04-06T09:10:00.000-07:00

and so, im back from the paris-rome-venice trip, to a room that is not quite mine, in a house i dont belong to, in a college im not registered under, in a land i cannot call home. i woke up wishing i had less belongings, and a mind less scattered. but no, first things first, travelogue coming up (:

first night at paris: after an afternoon at sacre-coeur, we took a walk from our montmatre hostel to the red-light district of paris (pigalle) and i went a little trigger-happy at the famous windmill that adorns the Moulin Rouge.

fast-forward to a couple of days later (photos yet to be arranged!), this was taken at Rome, outside the Colosseum. Group shot! Me, louis, cui, weezi, jiamin (: Sunny Rome was a perfect picnic spot for financially-challenged backpackers looking for dry grass patches to laze on.

ooh i love this shot. this is back at montmatre: it was a night in paris, and we decided to splurge some moo-lah on dinner. ended up at this restaurant at the foot of sacre-coeur.

-laughs- my fellow scholar sportingly posing for a shot. ive no clue what this road sign is doing in the middle of Rome! hm, vacation shots are made of these. somehow, landscape shots sans people dont interest me any more than printed 30cent postcards do, though i have to admit the next shot is quite a beauty (:

venice! we had arbitrarily decided, while at the peak of st. peters basilica in the vatican, that venice should be 'pizza, gelato and rivers'. disappointingly, weezi and i didnt manage to spot any of the above in the span of our first couple of hours in venice. the rest of the trip, however, was more fulfilling - pizza: 9 euros at giannis; gelato: 1 euro; river-buses: woohooo free! [albeit illegally so.]

afore-mentioned 1-euro gelatos.

my random stranger of the trip. while making a fool out of myself by posing infront of what appears to be a stripshow poster at pigalle ('eh...hurry with the shot!'), this random stranger appeared to pose with me for the pic (:

who needs to step inside the colosseum. with sun, greens, shades, and not much money in the pocket, the view outside was pretty darn good enough for us.

ahh. the legendary 320-steps of st. peters basilica. this was mid-way to the top - at that point, we had no idea it was only mid-way. check out our triumphant smirks: silly tourists thinking they had scaled the height of the amazing basilica, only to unwittingly find out, on their way out, that we hadnt even started on THE 320-steps. it was a breath-taking view when we finally got to the top!

Paris was my personal favourite - champs elysses, arc de triomphe, the eiffel were all magical. of course, it might be that it was the first stop, and i hadnt gotten whiney and tired. But oui, would love to return to paris some time. I havent even stepped into the roland garros stadium (: or had a french manicure, or walked up the eiffel (we were too late and had to settle for the lift). or visited more than the gardens of the versailles chateau. or the paris disneyland -shufflesfeet- weeeell (:

2006-03-25T03:33:00.000-08:00

I've been an awful friend. But sometimes i dont have the words to ease your hurt; sometimes i just dont know when to say what! And by mere happenstance, i discover that you've had a worse impression of me than i thought you would. And that flaw that you dislike isnt even a quality i would consider a flaw in me - i think this quality is me.

On the brighter side, off to Paris this weekend, and yes, I am excited :O paris, rome and venice is on the platter for this easter hols, making it a tad easier to while away time. I wish it does matter where you are, i wish environment could change a person; how much easier it would be to run away then.

I've been living in enqi's room for the past couple of days. And her wall is amazingly inspiring. There is this rock-like ornament that says 'My grace is all you need', and a wealth of quotes from the bible to remind us that God has always been with us, and always will be. That He will never forsake us. He is on our side, who dares stand against us?

2006-03-16T06:49:00.000-08:00

Woohoo! Happy post coming up: O-V-E-R! The Ethics exam is over :) Well, it wasnt too bad, and im just glad to get back to slacking. It felt like i was juggling ten things at one time the past week; shooting one down is always a 'woohoo!' feeling that demands a happy post.

I'm halfway down with packing everything into luggages/boxes to take away for easter; im homeless for the 5-week break! Why did i ever think packing was relaxing - this is anything BUT. Im gonna leave the walls blank next term; shelves half-empty. And urgh, buy less pasta!

2006-03-14T03:20:00.000-08:00

Thanks Enqi : for much needed support, and for seeming to know when i need it, even when i dont ask for it. Thanks Ailin for asking me along to cu meeting on sat, elim on sun, and stillhungry last night. I've enjoyed all three immensely; for one who thought she had permanently turned her back to God, these events have (just so slightly) made me cast a look back at what (i thought) i'd left.

And thinking through the talks about guilt, forgiveness, grace, responsibility, it occured to me that God knows my sins, bare, crude, intolerable. And that he knows i try to cast them aside. And this means He knows all the little victories that have been earned along the way, all the insignificant accomplishments that puts me on cloud nine for the day, but arent grand enough for me to share with others.

and He can see me trying still, sometimes in desperation, sometimes bolstered with vigour, to act in His image. what a comforting thought - and i wondered, why hadnt it occured to me in the past?

2006-03-11T04:45:00.000-08:00

the girl who sleeps on the bookshelf! so week nine is over and done with, bring on the final week of the term :) theres a house party tonight, so yep, loads of food - well, the purpose of throwing the party in the first place was to get rid of all the refrigerated food that cannot be stored over the easter. so actually, that would mean loads of frozen peas - i dont know why people keep thinking they'll be eating copious amounts of frozen peas - there is one whole shelf in my freezer dedicated to frozen peas. gee. well, im not one to speak. i have assorted stalks of broccoli, carrots, onions left over, and im not reall intending to do anything about them in the foreseeable future! sigh, overabundance of food - sinful really.

2006-03-07T12:13:00.000-08:00

bliss, or its approximate.

the past five days have flown by, on hindsight, that is. and now, after sending my mom off, i realise i could use some company in this room. without the alex park or KT Turnstall murmurs in the background, it is all too quiet, and i know that this quiet is the lesser of two evils - it is better quiet, than for the house to be bustling with activity, and for you to still be feeling altogether removed from the bustle. the week was so pleasant though, so pleasantly peaceful, with just the right blend of agitation, irritation and unexpectedness thrown in. for the first time, it snowed heavily enough - snow-man heavy; snow-in-your face heavy; and also, caught-in-the-snowstorm heavy. this meant being stuck in pret-a-manger with a latte and cappucino with mom after a sainsburys shopping trip, and with the whole upper level to ourselves, we chatted the hours away. we talked; and talked; and talked the hours away. and i was feeling so blissful, so missed, and i think i was happy.

then there was yesterday - skipping lectures had never felt this fulfilling. i loved telling her about the uh, History-and-Philo-Guy [whose name i have forgotten]. He made a self-introduction after a somewhat bizarre conversation-starter, and actually attempted to go beyond small talk (!). we trooped down to monk's cross in search of a newcastle united home jersey for ron, and ended up with bags-ful of items and four hours of catching-up in-between walking in and out of whsmith, jjb sports, miss selfridge, asda. then it was one of the best dinners i'd had in york - pizza express in town. well, the food was good, i didnt have to pay for it, and i'd learnt quite a bit from mom - about the ministry, about her job, about her opinions, and last night, i felt proud that i am her daughter. and it bugs me that i'd never told her this - whether in person or in written words - and it bugs me even more that these words get choked and swallowed whenever they find their way on the way out. even typing it out now gives me the chills and i get all cringey..boo.

love is not proud and it isnt dishonest. age humbles youth's pride - i know pride was a much bigger problem in my past years. i wonder how many more years it takes for the element of stubborn pride and selfishness to evaporate without a trace. and on the subject of pride, im pleasantly surprised by the comments for my first philo essay :) it was returned today, and while im really clueless as to where i stand in relation to everyone else, im really content enough to know that this is good enough. it was a slushy, sunless day and very inexplicably, i can sense the tear ducts starting to get unblocked now, well, not that they ever needed any plumbing. and despite feeling so vulnerable, im at (what i consider) an acceptable level of satisfaction. not optimal, but well, acceptable. there should be less blah-ness and more hoorah, but i cant muster it right now.

2006-02-25T18:12:00.000-08:00

Thanks for the pics, vice-zhong tong!

Happy birthday to the Feb babies :)

Despite a sore eye, sniffly nose, scratchy throat and somewhat distracted mind, i made it to Fiesta! Boy there was alot of food there, and as stallholders, Weez, Lin and I had hours of free food samplings. Most of the time though, I was behind the stall, handing out 'fried noodles, anyone?' or 'yusheng - the oriental salad' in my cheongsam, or rather, ailin's pretty lil black chengsam. And im rather proud of the food we whipped up! Short of harvesting the lychees, or rearing the hainanese chicken, we pretty much made most things from scratch. And the food proved rather popular :)

I dont know what im expecting, or why i upset balances like that. It's as if i dont like things being dormant and peaceful, and feel this compulsion to upset everything and kick up a big fuss. Throw a tantrum in my own drama-queen-ish manner, all the while knowing that nothing will be solved that way. I can be such a bitch sometimes - most of the time, i rein it in and suck it up, but occasionally, when your defences are lowered, the inner bitch flies out and claws her nails, spews her scathing words, rawr! And after that has subsided, i find that those arent words i dont mean - they are just things that are so buried and sugar-coated that ive forgotten how venomous they sound in actuality.

2006-02-20T02:39:00.000-08:00

i am so thrilled! (insert more and more and more exclamation marks!) i was still debating last night, whilest on the phone with eleena, whether i should pay to fly home after france/italy.

and this morning, i was woken by a phone call from home, and mom tells me shes coming down to visit me here in the uk in march! ah! :) i dont deserve such an unbelievable mom :) sigh, i guess deep down im really still very much a little girl whos missing mommy's hugs and comfort. and i thought i was all grown up.

pep, why cant you count your blessings. oh well, right now, right now, im delirious. no more whining, no more moping, God does make all things right again. im infinitely happy!

2006-02-06T16:50:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, i feel like it's entirely plausible that after three years, i'd still have learnt nothing concrete about people i call friends. Tonight, someone whom i hadnt spoken to for two lightyears told me to stop being a stranger. And yes, indeed i wonder how many 'stranger-friends' i've made. These would probably be those whom i've never messaged on MSN; those i've considered putting on the 'block' list; those with whom silence is not an option. Then there are those whom i feel ive got to prove something to (the motivation behind this is unclear, even to myself). And those who have drifted so far that their lives seem so far-removed from mine, such that conversations have hour-long preludes with scores of hyperlinking in-between (ie yea and there is this friend jan, who is my seminar mate, who came along for the party). Sometimes, the conversations themselves are preludes, to nothing in particular, disappointingly.

And in other news, it appears im majoring in the wrong field.

You scored as Psychology. You should be a Psychology major!

Psychology

75%

Theater

75%

Philosophy

67%

English

67%

Sociology

67%

Linguistics

58%

Engineering

50%

Dance

42%

Journalism

42%

Anthropology

33%

Chemistry

25%

Biology

17%

Mathematics

17%

Art

What is your Perfect Major? (PLEASE RATE ME!!<3)
created with QuizFarm.com

Where People Never Walk Alone

2006-02-04T12:41:00.000-08:00

Liverpool! Where no one ever walks alone! Awww. (Im on some sort of cardiovascularexercise-cum-overseasphonecall-induced serotinin high right now so pardon the excessive and unwarranted exclamation marks)

And home of John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr and George Harrison :) Yup whole of yesterday spent in Liverpool with Joy and Clarence, and im glad i went! Joy and I went a little (just a little) overboard with the spending, even after a lunch of financial stock-taking, where it was discovered that our balances seem to be mysteriously low. Hm!

site of abercrombie jacket purchase! £30. Ouch. It seemed so right at that time

joy and i! this is us overlooking some urm, indistinguishable english town square, the characteristics of which are (1) HMV; (2) Zara; (3) buskers; (4) activists of some sort holding placards; (5) the golden arches. Anyway, im glad i got to know this girl better! :)

little britain talking mugs...little gems you find in kooky shops. there was a vicky pollard one which freakishly went 'yea, but no, but yea but no' whenever you picked it up.

uh, stately-looking building #1

couldnt resist snapping a shot of this. oh well, see, always read between the parentheses.

so alritey, fruitful day yesterday, though the plato text sat rather sullenly, ignored, in the corner of my bag next to the purchases. in a rather futile attempt to burn some midnight oil last night, i consumed copious amounts of coffee past midnight, and bizarrely fell asleep before even reading two pages. and this is Copious. worrying on one hand, even more worrying on the other.

2006-01-31T12:23:00.000-08:00

CNY pics!

To the Friends: Aww thanks guys. pepper chili crab in honour of my existence? haha sure or not...i dont ever remember us going to seafood restaurants. oh and 'the man' and 'the man other than the man' are friend(s) in york. yea i was quite mystified at first too :) like our very own masked man.

Anyway, am down with a cold, and stuck in room tonight instead of trooping down to Alcuin for a easter break discussion. Oh well. Occupying myself with reading STI, and lo and behold, i spotted familiar names in the Forum section of ST. Li Shengwu and Tham Li Jing penned the letters 'Classroom still belongs to Yeats and the Bard' (ST, Jan 21) and 'Judge a piece of writing on how it stirs emotions' (ST, Jan 31) respectively. These letters were written in response to MOE's decision to incorporate more local literature into the literature syllabus.

Well, I dont know many Shengwus and Li Jings, and well, no doubt there is a possibility that they might not be the RJ seniors i know of. and i dont even know them personally. and If its a case of mistaken identity then uh, i'll feel silly, twiddle my thumbs, and then perhaps delete this entry.

Background information: Shengwu was responding to a Mr Paul Tan's article, 'Give local writing its place' (ST, Jan 18). In this article, Mr Tan praises MOE's decision to review the literature syllabus to incorporate more local writing. Shengwu writes in, responding with: 'that local writers are improving does not necessitate their immediate inclusion in the literature syllabus'. And that 'if substantially better overseas writers exist, we should not give our limited syllabus space to Singaporean writers in a fit of blind patriotism.' He concludes with 'until [local writers can stand on equal footing with the bard, eliot and hemmingway], give the time and the classroom to Yeats and Shakespeare.'

This provokes more responses in defense of local literature - a Miss Stephanie Chu responds with 'Local writing makes literature more accessible'( ST, Jan 27). She writes: 'it is possible to learn the rudiments of literary analysis through local texts because they are rich in terms of stories, images and themes. A good example would be Sing To The Dawn.' I am skimping over Miss Chu's arguments here, but the gist of her letter is that local works are close to our hearts, as opposed to works of Shakespeare, which require lengths of explanatory notes to bridge the culture and time gap; and that 'for students who are more keen, Shakespeare would be good to lay the foundations for what literature has to offer as an academic field. But for the majority of students who will not touch literature at a higher level, there is nothing more accessible and closer to matters at home than our own writers'.

And if you read today's Forum, you'll spot the response to Miss Chu's letter, and it is written by Familiar Name #2. In response to the inaccessibility of Shakespeare's works, Li Jing writes: 'I have had wonderful literature teachers in secondary school and junior college; even now I marvel at the way they transformed what seemed like a foreign language into words that spoke to my heart' and reiterates his ex-classmate's claim that Catherine Lim and Kuo Pao Kun pale in comparison to Yeats and Shakespeare (and in fact, says Li Jing, they cannot match contemporary writers like Kazuo Ishiguro and Jeanette Winterson as well.)

Alright now, where do you stand?

For me, part of the fun in studying literature lies in reading the secondary texts ie the criticisms. admitedly, the pressure to start on secondary readings only start in the junior college days. you start to dig up these secondary readings on the internet, or in obscure corners of the libraries, and realise that there has been SO much written on these primary texts you're studying. i've got to confess: it is in fact, at times more fascinating to read these secondary texts than the primary texts themselves. it can be more fascinating to read what the shakespeare scholars have to say about the bard's works. and it is primarily because there has been so much, so much written on the classical english works - medieval, renaissance, victorian, romantic literature - that i would find it more worthwhile for students to study these works. it gives more avenue for development, endless scope, and so much room for discussion.

you want local context, well, there always the possibility of reading what local critics have to say about whatever primary text is being studied. the study of literature is not about judging the value of a literary work; it isnt even about comparing the relative value of works. personally, at least, it is about discovering how words can approximate emotional states; it is about different authors' experiments with styles; and even about character/virtue/school of thought. some works speak to you, and you immediately form a connection with the character/author, and if you find works of such, then congratulations, you will always never feel alone in your solitude. Give the students scope, so they can find work of such a nature.

2006-01-28T06:58:00.000-08:00

This is my 20th chinese new year, and the first away from home. But in this home away from home, where the shops don't sell loveletters or pineapple tarts, we had our version of a reunion dinner tonight. On a pool table! Heh and the food was good :) There was Fried rice (the peas version and the non-peas version), fried wantons, curry chicken (!), tom-yam mee sua, mushroom stroganoff (fusion...), ma-po tofu, sweet-sour chicken, and even tangyuens (almond and non-almond!). The most impressive dish was probably jason's yu sheng though. And gosh, this must be the first lou1 hei2 session where people have said things like...

louis: feng1 he2 ri4 li4!

Well, considering how cold it is going to get, i guess wishing for some sunshine is justified but still. Haha, yea and post-dinner talk centered, for a while, around venus and g-force, pregnancy and our uninteresting lives, and yea i lost around 2 quid to joy in blackjack.

Earlier in the day though, i received a phone call from home, and as always, it was only after putting the phone down and curling up again under the covers that i started to remember all the things i'd wanted to say, all the trivial anecdotes that i had mentally tagged for future reference, the questions i'd wanted to ask. And my grandpa, who is hard of hearing, i miss him :) so much.

2006-01-25T04:42:00.000-08:00

Repenting made easy.

On a more serious note though - and im still twitchy about writing about religion because im hardly live up to standards - God makes all things right again. He sends the right people, at the right time, and there is nothing contingent about that. It's so frustrating to find that you disappoint yourself time and again, that resolutions remain as metaphysical beliefs which dont translate into action. Please remind me, at each disappointing juncture, that i dont have to go hibernate in self-inflicted ennui.

2006-01-21T14:36:00.000-08:00

the past few days have been rather uplifting, and it is so reassuring to realise that you have the capacity to feel blessed still. and the confidence in knowing you can still make clear-headed decisions and still summon up that dormant willpower when situations call for it. i forget sometimes, that i can still talk myself out of certain decisions, out of certain thoughts even.

right! so last night was the Minster Ball, the annual dinner/dance event held in the York Minster, and whilest the food was just passable (jason quote: this looks like something i'd cook), the music afterwards really made up for it. well, so did the setting i guess; and the company of course. it didnt feel anything like prom to me, though there was the inevitable photo-whoring, conversation-making with people whose names you may have forgotten/mixed up with others, girls tugging at their tube dresses. there was the Guy In A Kilt, the 'raindance song!', the gown-with-coat ensemble, the pacing around in the cold while cab-waiting, cui's three cups of coffee, and the speaker whose speech didnt really strike a chord with me.

and today turned out surprisingly well, in spite of my newcastle trip screw-up. caught my first sightings of this year's Australian Open on tv while jogging at the gym! Wanted to stay on the treadmilll in front of that tv for as long as possible, so i was consequently jogging at crippled snail's pace. I caught the martina hingis match :) brilliant! and yes brilliance, tonight's performances at the Drama Barn was pretty full of that too.

the heartbreaking rendition of 'Heya!' (uh, dont trust the spelling) - yes that Outkast song(!) - on a piano was refreshing; the solos were laudable; it was all in all, enjoyable :)

2006-01-19T11:25:00.000-08:00

Finally have access to Straits Times Interactive (STI), and inadverdently chanced upon one of Sumiko Tan's columns. Hm, not a big fan here; i'd used to think of her as a pre-mrdarcy-bridget jones, maybe three jeans sizes smaller and a couple of inches shorter, but nonetheless. Anyway, one of her columns - it was the Jan 1 2006 one - sported a title which, though seemingly trite, did catch my attention. The title was simply this: What if you had one year left to live?

The column also asked the reader to consider what he would do if the one year was hypothetically shortened to one hour. What if you had one hour left to live? What would you do?

One hour - thats about the length of one OC episode, two Friends episodes. It's the length of one of my seminars; it's a train ride to Leeds; i could listen to Oasis' Wonderwall about 15 times, Lifehouse's You and Me maybe 18 times.

But of course, we're not talking about any other One Hour; if you had one hour left, would you blow it on The OC or on a train ride. It struck me, while reading the column, that if i did indeed, hypothetically, have one hour, i wouldnt be able to spend it with family, and people who have meant the most to me for the past couple of years. i wouldnt even be able to make it to Heathrow airport in time. And more likely than not, because my DognBone card is out of credit, i would have to spend 15 minutes of that one precious hour trying to top up credit before being able to call home, call friends, call people who matter.

And what would i say?

When it comes down to it, all the vocabulary i've accumulated would be no match to the two simplest phrases: thank you, and i'm sorry. and to the precious few: i've always loved you, and always will. those are all the words i'd need. And right now, im going to have to snap out of this melancholy, because readings beckon! I cant believe how trite my truth sounds at times...

2006-01-18T02:58:00.000-08:00

Golden Globes winners are out, and Hugh Laurie bags the 'Best Performance by an Actor In A Television Series - Drama' for House -grin-

Full list of nominations and winners: http://www.hfpa.org/nominations/index.html

This girl is usually nonchalant about these glitzy vehicles of commercialism ie award shows, but Hugh Laurie winning means there is still justice in this world :) Aww. Let this mean that House will continue for another say, 10 seasons or so. Best Picture (Drama) was taken by Brokeback Mountain (Ang Lee); yea but the surprise was finding out that Match Point was actually a nominee for this category as well. Hm, and i had formerly dismissed it as another Wimbledon, which isnt really an insult, considering Romance + Tennis + Cheesy storyline always makes for a good show, to me at least.

In other news: Easter plans are to be revamped due to urm, scarcity of cash. Sigh, but ive got to say thanks to friends who have been giving rather sound advice and seniors who have offered their place as temporary accomodation. More updates soon :)

2006-01-12T09:27:00.000-08:00

the trouble with waiting (or procrastinating) a couple of days before sitting down and writing about a vacation, especially when one's memory isnt stellar, is that the retelling tends to get vague, romanticised, and altogether abbreviated.

this vienna-budapest trip with the seven other girls from york would probably count as my first backpacking experience, so to speak. one which would sound alot more credible if i indeed had a backpack. anyway, we visited Mozart's grave in Vienna, watched a mini-concert-cum-ballet, tasted the famous sacher torte in the sacher hotel itself. the whole experience in Vienna would have to be accompanied by our soundtrack of assorted songs - the infectious rhythm of the rain, and (i dont know why) stef sun, punctuated by 'yum-yummm'.

Vienna was snow and music and art. The Albertina, an art gallery within the Hofburg Palace, was showcasing the works of Egon Schiele, and this was my first encounter with his works. And the Schiele exhibition might very well go down as The Memory for me.

the surprise came at budapest, which i hadnt expected to have such a scenic skyline and landscape. my first thought: how could i not have known that such a place existed. the first evening, as we looked across the Danube river during sunset, i felt like i'd walked into an idealised landscape.

Budapest was candy-coloured skies and the Danube and eight girls in a room. This trip was a chance to get to know these girls better, and i'm glad to have gone. eastern europe was prettier than i'd expected; there is still beauty in this world! and not enough battery life or memory space to capture it...

2006-01-01T16:23:00.000-08:00

happy twentieth enqi :) check out the food, courtesy of cui and lin! shortbread which tasted like good butter cookies, 6 pints of icecream, a pretty apple crumble, wine louis brought from spain! i'd thought it would be a low-key celebration, but uh, no, haha didnt realise the hk people were coming as well. oh well, turned out to be rather crowded in the end!

alritey, jetting off again tomorrow to london, and then to vienna. digicam, check, batteries,charged. happy new year everyone!

2005-12-29T07:28:00.000-08:00

its boarding time again tomorrow night. and these twelve days have been simply amazing, chockful of activity and hustle. apologies to those friends i have hardly spent enough time with, im so sorry! as mentioend in Another Blog, there were errands to run, people to meet, family time to be spent, and im really grateful for you guys trying to arrange meetups :)

highlights so far? the 23rd, ministry of sound, narnia, xmas present from mom!, the shopping, catching up with people, and today. peace be with all :)

2005-12-25T05:07:00.000-08:00

well well, so another 23rd has passed. one year older, none the wiser :P couple of lovely pics stolen from chris and cheng; someone, teach me how to make collages.

the christmas shopping crowds descend upon orchard, 'tis the season to be jostling-with-pram-pushing-hair-tossing-shoppers. the five of us (we were missing layne!) retreated to a rather low-key united square thanks to our full-fledged driver, jing, and after a good ol' bitching session, we decided, in the spirit of giving, to part with a princely sum of 2 dollars each, and do a mini secret santa amongst ourselves. thanks guys, for these memories, and for making singapore the home it is :)

2005-12-19T15:01:00.000-08:00

Just minutes ago, i shared a Que Sera, Sera moment with grandma. It was just past five in the morning, and i finally surrendered to a night of sleeplessness. And there she was, as had been for as long as i can remember, cleaning up the utensils, the kitchen tabletop in preparation for another day. And as i looked at the tired face of the lady who said 'whatever will be, will be', my worries seemed lightyears away. i dont know what it is about her that makes my worries seem so mundane; so trivial; and i dont even know what it is that just tells me to do as she says. She knows better, this much i trust. And just after our little chat, i felt blessed beyond measure.

So what if i could not sleep; so what if i was tossing in bed at 2.30, 4.00, and finally gave up trying to slip into slumber at 5.20? What are my fears and preoccupations compared to hers? Everything will be fine, because there still is time, and it is never too late.

Sleepless in a not-too-sunny Singapore. The past week had been the best of the ten weeks i had in York: thank you, thank You for most touching christmas cards. they made me wish i could write my cards again, my humble cards which could hardly convey how much these people meant to me. So yes, thank you for your words, cui and ailin especially :)

And now, I cannot wait to see the person, the people whom ive missed so much. I cant wait to see how much you have, or have not changed. How have you been, no really, how have you been...? It's just me now, and i cant wait.

2005-12-12T13:00:00.000-08:00

chris i managed to screenshot it :) thanks for the link! for the others, wala i created my very own southpark dude at this webbie: http://spstudio.linda.hosting-friends.de/spstudio.html

hes a funky, young, poor and struggling artisan who roams the streets of europe - i would be more specific, but i cant imagine what accent my artisan here should sport.

week 10! two more seminars to get through, but my brain doesnt seem to be registering them anymore.case in point: at the end of today's tutorial, i said, 'see you next term, oh i mean, two terms later!', upon which my tutor replied, 'urm actually, i'll be seeing you tomorrow afternoon during seminar. remember?'

so its seminar, lecture, term-end social tomorrow; spanish test (fátal, people), supervisory meeting, watching my seminar mates' play at drama barn on wed; before the final seminar on thurs! :)

ive been so impossibly homesick these past couple of days. and so sorry to people whose emails i havent replied. you would think that the homesickness shld spur me on to furiously typing emails to people back home, but no, somehow this jaded homesickness is making me stare into space, drowning myself in the angelic vocals of a childrens choir, and reading the bible. seeking faith i guess, seeking a stability and peace i'd once derived from God. why does church-going inevitably set me up for spiritual lows?

it was a beautiful carol service last night at the minster. i would confess: my mind wandered as the skit went on; my eyes drifted to the ceilings and painted glass windows; but my heart longed to cede control, and when the band played 'what kind of throne?' i started mentally penning a diary entry, because i was so afraid of forgetting what this all meant to me. i felt like kicking myself in the shin, and could picture the burning coals when the speaker asked for all who wanted to invite God to their hearts to stand; and i sat rooted and squirmed.

she wore a brown suede coat two sizes too large, and held the single stalk of rose which he had given her. she leaned against the dusty wall along the sidewalk, closed her eyes and sighed as her lips curled into a smile. and right there, standing on the sidewalk, she knew it was home. he loved her! she walked on, and dropped all the coins in her pocket into the hat of the carolling musicians. because he loved her, yes, her, the painfully-shy girl in the oversized suede coat with socks that did not match!

2005-12-10T11:45:00.000-08:00

I reached home today, to find a card addressed to me beside the door. My first christmas card! It was from a housemate - and right then, i realised that it didnt matter if there were only three sentences in the card, and it wouldnt have mattered if the card was just one of those '50 for 99p' generic cards - it all didnt matter, because it brought a smile to my face for just a second; and made it a rather sweet ending to a somewhat tearful day for me. thanks ailin and cui for listening; appreciate it, really did.

Right there in Waterstones, whilest holding The Beatles hardcover, i hit a low; for no apparent reason, worst possible scenarios flashed in my head: what if i never had the chance to apologise to my dad for being this failure of a daughter, this disappointment? what if i could never tell him that i would never be able to look at any picture of The Beatles without thinking of him, what if i couldnt tell him he had not failed as a father, and that i would take back, in an instant, all those things i'd said to hurt.

Hurt works in equal and opposite ways. The guilt you experience after hurting someone, or even after harbouring the thought of hurting someone is punishment enough sometimes.

2005-11-26T16:01:00.000-08:00

I got home, flicked on the light switch, and thought i heard everything in the room heave a collective sigh of relief. My head stopped throbbing; the jeans and tights replaced by trackpants. At close to 11pm, I felt at home. While trying to make a hot supper, my housemate laura asked how my day was - an innocuous question which unleashed abit of a tirade from yours truly (see elaboration below). meanwhile, lets turn to other news on hand.

Singsoc elections was a night of shallow-fried wantons, goreng pisang tots, three (no less!) flavours of fried rice, and my new post as secretary of singsoc :) I'm rather excited about it; familiarity with the members, the nature of the job scope, the various people in the new com - ailin, louis, weezi, lin, cui - all kinda make this post sound somewhat enjoyable. Friday I fell ill, and downed my first painkillers since getting here. Day was spent reading up, and the night at Pitcher and Piano, a swanky joint ala Balaclava in singapore, but swankier, because it overlooks the river while Balaclava is kinda uh, in suntec convention centre no? And then fast-forward to this morning, at 4.30am.

I believe the term 'unearthly' hasnt been used so appropriately by yours truly in quite a while. 0430 is unearthly. Today was nottingham day. Notts was worth every penny (of the 22 pounds, not the extra 11 pounds which i had to fork out because i didnt have this railcard). It was a gathering of singaporeans from uk unis, and ostensibly, a sporting event. how people can run cross-country in sub-5 degree temperatures stupefies me. i think they all deserve a medal simply for harbouring the intention of running. Or for giving in to whoever sabo-ed them into running, these poor unfortunate, but healthy, souls.

And it was surreal meeting so many singaporeans at one go; it was an invasion of 'Lah's and 'Lor's. There were RJ and VJ PE shirts; there was nasi lemak; there were friends i hadnt seen since seeing them off at changi! There was amazingly great catching up, some awkward 'hi's, some new acquaintances made known. I somehow had the feeling the entire sports hall was acquainted within three degrees of separation.

And to add some excitement to our day, the rail company decides to throw in some adventure. There had already been a tolerable, and rather amusing, detour on our way to Notts because we hadnt managed to disembark the train before it started moving again - 'why...uh, why cant the door be opened? uh, hey, the ground is moving. hey the TRAIN is moving. HEY THE TRAIN IS MOVING!'

That was the journey there. On the journey back, the rail tracks decided to call it a day. And so, due to some damage in the tracks, our train was immobile for quite some time, and the journey was, in summary, delayed by about an hour. To compensate, of course, there was entertainment provided, in the form of drunken dudes crooning tunes which they evidently dont know the lyrics of. It was rather amusing, well, for the entire duration of two minutes. After that, the ipod assumed its rightful place.

And speaking of rightful place, yea, we did eventually end up at york. Though during the train delay, which facilitated mind-wandering, i was toying with the idea of simply getting hopelessly lost. So that wld mean, heh, staying on the train, getting off maybe at durham, running into the wall on platform whats-tht-and-three-quarters, maybe ending up in the hogwarth school of magic.

...

Anyway. Yes, it has been tiring. Which was why, when I got home, flicked on the light switch, everything in my room seemed to let out a collective sigh.

2005-11-23T04:31:00.000-08:00

the sun sneakily rose; not even bothering to shine a single ray into my room. and now, before i know it, its midday. so now i try to part the curtains, which are the cause of that eclipse, and the rays surge in, flooding this perpetual eclipse with a reminder that it's midday. everything looks queer - the whites look ghastly white, the carpet looks more dusty than i had thought it was. a little too much light for my liking though; i prefer lampshades. so curtains get drawn to a close again - it makes a pretty good lampshade really.

thanks to cui for the picture above. its taken from the hours, which starred nicole kidman as virginia woolf. woolf, im adopting as my first 'favourite author'. i cant decide whether or not its alright to tell people i am empathise with woolf - will they see me as pompous, self-righteous for comparing myself to woolf? or will they see me as a psychotic/neurotic bag of nerves who needs some counsel? and since neither option sounds more favourable than the other, perhaps 'i think she's brilliant' should suffice. (she fascinates me! i cant talk about her without throwing in multiple exclamation marks!)

the bulletin now: its week seven now, and jack and jill climbed up the hill. hm, so much for that spiritual high last week, it promptly receded, leaving a debris of guilt. when does the tide rise again? the carcasses on the shore are looking for cover now.
on a cheerier note though, ive snagged a pretty poster, been happy with the essays, enjoyed the company of people i can now call friends. someone once told me that cynicism is always healthy; that i wouldnt regret this dose of cynicism in me. but right now, i just want to be flooded with those rays, and do without the lampshade!

2005-11-15T17:34:00.000-08:00

the thing about winter is it could be 12 am (as it is now), or it could be 3 pm, and you couldnt tell the difference. its just as dark, just as cold. the days run on without arbitrary leaden circles dissolving in the air; night blends into day into night - you rely on what people do and say to make the markings on your calendar instead because the dates arent that good a gauge anymore.

i rely on relative time now, because dates are such hollow markers. this afternoon, for instance, took me right back to square one - telling enqi that the environment had not changed me one bit, that i had not unloaded the baggage, that perhaps, just perhaps, i should indeed retrace the steps because this road leads to a dead end - it just threw me off-balance.

and this evening was session number one for me at james CU. frankly, i still am rather impressed by my resolve to make it there; i'd wanted to give the self no excuse to feel guilt later on. walking there, with hands stuffed into my pockets, all i could think of was: why am i doing this? why am i trekking across campus in the c-c-cold!

it turned out to be less intimidating than i had imagined, although, once again, i was the only asian there. that shouldnt even be an issue, pep. anyway, the session was alright, though i couldnt help feeling, as i always do when in contexts like these, that i couldnt be at ease; that i couldnt ever be perfectly transparent in a setting like this bec ause i simply am not so devoted, not so energetic, not so single-minded.

i admire the way the devoted make things sound so simple. you dont choose, he does. and there i was making a five-year plan, only to be told to Stop Trying and let go. ironically, it is so much more difficult to let go; holding on is comparatively a piece of cake. life is a breeze then - eat when you're hungry, sleep when you're tired, forgive the intolerable, say 'so what' to every vestiege of nagging self-doubt and shard of envy.

(i am so tempted to 'select all' on this page and click 'delete'. but that would fly in the face of the 'so what' to self-doubt. so here goes!)

2005-11-12T13:27:00.000-08:00

what a plunge! what a blah. its as if my EQ has taken a nosedive. how am i so insensitive, so blunt, so unkind, and so paranoid at the same time!

there are those who put up with all this though:

i am glad i could finally speak my mind, bluntly, while chatting with huimin today at macarthurs. i hadnt planned to go into that - i hardly had a chance to get to know her well enough. but it feels so cathartic to release some steam; and unriddle some of those question marks which i had thought would have been exclamation marks for everyone else.

and then there is cui,louis and ailin, who never fail to crack me up. cui - the choc-chip girl who cuts a great elder-sis figure, whom i think is one of those few people i can sit comfortably in silence with, and and randomly quip something without feeling silly. and louis - the malteser who has the One Bathroom to Rule Them All, certified slacker who somehow always seem to have the answers when you least expect it, and who always seems to make sense. and ailin, who can say the sweetest things one minute, and the wittiest, most ri-dunku-lous things the next; whom you cannot stay mad at for long.

sigh.

on an unrelated note now. alanis morissette sings: it's like meeting the man of my dreams, and then meeting his beautiful wife - this is just the sort of thing that would happen to me. it isnt as elegant as juliet's tragedy, but it is altogether frustrating, disappointing, and so ironically laughable at the same time. so ironically laughable - oh the hilarity is bizarre - my mind feels an utter shame for the foolish foolish heart. this is my fault, its like meeting the guy of my dreams, and i just pack my suitcases, and run as far as possible. a little too ironic.

so stop; slow down here pep; covet less; all you have is all you need you blessed girl :) really. all you have is all that you need.

2005-11-05T17:21:00.000-08:00

verbal diarrhoea ahead.

dont you wish you didnt have to mince your words or hold your tongue or censor those words that just come tumbling straight from your head to lips simply because you dont want to be thought of as random, neurotic, selfish, narcissistic, pedantic, critical, pessimistic, or gee, common? i just want to grab a blanket, pull it over my head and blend into the background; but not before being that carelessly laughing girl who doesnt give a muttering hoot. honestly though, i uh, give the hoot. i do care, maybe not enough because im just looking forward to pulling that blanket one inch nearer. not so much out of selfishness though, nor out of a lack of empathy, but more so because i love feeling that numbness which the blanket gives me.

under this blanket - figurative, figurative - i would lick the sauce off my fingers, throw my coat on the carpet, leave the clothes unfolded, put my feet up on the table, hide dirty laundry in the corner of my bed, stare into space, play cheesy songs of the days of yore, go on a voyeuristic, blog-surfing binge, and flip through the photo albums. there arent any laughs under this blanket - it doesnt know what laugher sounds like - but i love it all the same.

-clutches blanket closer-

better than it looks.

2005-11-02T12:24:00.000-08:00

lovely treat. herbal chicken and tofu!
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

amazing culinary skills - that object you see in the bottom hand corner? herbal chicken. it looks healthy and flu-less. in fact, the seniors stuffed it with chinese herbs, so you know, that should counteract any bacteria lurking in our dear piece of poultry no? probably no, but it tastes fantastic!

the unidentifiable heap of carrot-cake-esque dish is actually mapo tofu, with enough kick and spice to put any singaporean dish to shame. kudos!

in other news, got myself a bike today :) long story - bought a second hand one at the auction, and it turned out to be a mess. i gave up, promised myself i wouldnt buy another pair of boots, and went ahead to buy a new bike. very. costly. investment. but very happy with it.

so how has life been treating me? i actually enjoy hostel living. there is more privacy than i had expected; most of the time, there are options for almost every single mood you are experiencing.

i felt like i was tempting fate today while riding back to uni. close shave, and after that i just paused to thank god nothing happened. sometimes a difference of a splitsecond can make all the difference. this is not happening again.

first essay, done!

2005-10-23T17:12:00.000-07:00

first essay, done!
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

final page, first essay.

im going to vienna :) with fellow singaporeans in york, scheduled to be stopping at budapest as well. well, that should count as my first 'backpacking in europe' experience! trip will be starting of jan next year though, so not quite time to get excited yet heh. but still, vienna! this was a really last-minute decision, its gonna be burning quite a hole in the pocket but oh wells, i figured thats what an overseas education should be about no?

what a week. yesterday was spent at leeds, where i bought soya sauce for three pounds, and my first pair of boots! oh people actually do use the term 'duck' as term of endearment, the listless woman giving a lecture on 'cultural awareness' wasnt wrong. this old lady at the flea market yesterday actually said 'thank you, duck' to me! oh cui introduced me to rufus wainwright, to whom im listening to right now because i just ripped off the whole rufus album.

in other news, tonight was my first taste of laksa (courtesy of charmain) in ages. hail whoever invented pre-mixes. the day before was tennis in the rain, indian dinner, homemade cheesecake. oh ive been up to karate (hwaiii-yahhh!), watching no tv, reading my first Cosmo (all literature is uh, not equal).

interesting event during a mundane activity - after laundry yesterday, i was surprised to see that someone had folded my clothes and towels for me in the dryer :) random act of kindness, which i shall pass on! tomorrow i hope. let an opportunity present itself!

this is york!

2005-10-16T12:54:00.000-07:00

DSCF1291
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

walking down The Shambles with lin. yes this is an actual name for the street! weather was lovely and we were walking with emily to sainburys to stock up on groceries. this was followed by my first experience of being lost in york. The Shambles is this place tucked away from the M&S shops, the Starbucks of the town. RIght next to where im standing is this shop delectably known as The Chocolate Shop which looks amazing.

If not because im a poor student on a budget, i'd be ballooning, what with the cadbury choc coated chips and the aisles and aisles of breads. breadlovers haven!

2005-10-13T17:58:00.001-07:00

hi :)

its 10:51am around here, and im sitting warm and toasty sipping coffee in my room. bob dylan plays on my ibook, solely because im experiencing a major lack of cds. on second thought, im evicting dylan right now, i'd rather listen to my cheesy itunes collection looped over and again heh.

so its been exactly a week, and im still alive, with internet connection to boot! apologies for not updating sooner, and thanks for all the well-wishes, all the enquiries of concern ;) living in halls really means you have to fork out time for yourself, and choose privacy over the hundred-aound-one events going on (yes even here - land of swans and drunk ducks!).

so what have i been up to! (i wrote the following last night :P)

just back from a jazz music thing with the seniors and a couple of sg freshers at another hall's jcr - honestly though, i was shouting over the music rather than sitting back and sipping bubbly. intriguing conversation with a philo student about the module on skepticism, and as all philo conversations go, the ruminations inevitably left us scratching our chins. my toes froze while trooping back to james, and i dreamt of enveloping warmth.

met up with my replacement supervising tutor, as well as seminar tutor today. first essay due week three! and its poetry for next week sigh. im the sole asian student in my tutorial group, the sole international student in my flat, save for a mature norwagian student. the first night at the james college welcome reception buffet wasnt too good - ended up hanging with a singaporean friend.

my house mates and course mates are so incredibly friendly though! i was more than a little apprehensive when our tutor assigned us partners to work with on a poetry assignment-my partner looked intimidating!-but it turned out just fine in the end :)

i cannot explain how comforting it feels to hang with singaporeans now; a group of us had a curry dinner at someone's flat last night - there was rice, there was singlish, there was ease, and there was warmth in that little flat shielded against biting winds. and on the way back, we walked past the goodricke bar's Playboy mansion party that was going on - girls with bunny ears, couple of guys in drag suits, blaring loud music - and i wondered why no vein in me wanted to strap on the bunny ears and head on in.

well, maybe its not good enough. haha doesnt match up to good old-school bonding, where you can get past the preliminary 'which college?' 'which block?' 'where from?' "which course?' 'oh i know a guy in the same course/flat/block!' and actually chat your interetsts.

(last night's comments stopped there. i got too tired and fell asleep on my very zen bed cover quilt.)

so anyway, the zen is hardly depressing. haha but maybe only because i decided to brighten up the room with several touches of pink. i bought this electric pink heart-shaped pnk rug, i decorated the borders of my notice board in pink, glossy wrapping paper, and my flatmate (nice of her right) gave me this string of little pink lights to hang in my room! to redeem myself from bimbohood though, the book shelf is now full, thanks to the crazy amounts i spent on second-hand books since reaching campus.

till next time :)

2005-10-13T17:58:00.000-07:00

happy girl :)

2005-10-03T08:29:00.000-07:00

choco fondue night!
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

and so the countdown begins. today is at once, the best and worst birthday to date. i was made to feel so utterly special by someone so special, so blissfully peace with the sand, sea, sun and sweetness.

and last night was a quietly riotous affair with the girls. chocolate fondue was amazing. sinfully amazing. hot chocolate gliding down your throat is so disgustingly luxurious!

afternnon lunch was a combined bdae lunch for my grandma and i. shes 71 this year, my granny. the lady who gave me my chinese name, who once quietly cried because i was hurting so badly, who would go out in the rain, walk two bus stops to get me lunch if i just made a passing remark about having a popiah craving.

yes, im happy. for now at least =)

2005-09-24T07:42:00.000-07:00

you know what is sad? sad is when you are wandering aimlessly, not quite knowing what to do with yourself, not quite sure why you are feeling so lost, and every bit fearful that someday you may just...implode, explode, or simply, be sedated. because the notion of sedation can seem like such a blissful alternative at times. sedation, as in total numbness from physical hurt, complete escapism from even your own thoughts.

and then you judge yourself for even daring to wish for sedation, because what is life, if you lie comatose, contributing nothing, and claiming nothing. what would it mean to the world, what would you mean to God anymore if you simply wish for sedation to wash over you, desiring rest from even yourself.

and now, do you know what is joy? joy is when you are tying your shoelaces and thinking - god is with me today. it is when you walk with your head up, you glance into the mirrors and smile at what you see; it is when you are with people who know you as you are; it is when you dont have to make up excuses, lies, threats, stories, tales, fables, or dig from the trenches of your mind to come up with a conversation topic. it is when you can nestle your head and your trust into someone in silence.

it is also when you can sit down and flip the pages of a book on, and on, and on, not stopping to think, 'when am i going to lose this concentration - two more pages?' it is when you can stop doubting yourself for just one second, stop doubting if you are REALLY going to run the next round as you had planned to, stop doubting if you will slip up this time, just because you had slipped up yesterday.

2005-09-21T09:17:00.000-07:00

::--she has skin like mocha - she glitters under the warm evening sun, tastes as sweet, but really is just as bitter inside. youth is beauty, my mother has told me for so long, and i never really appreciated what that meant until i looked at every little lolita tottering down the streets in their mismatched clothes, cheap and used handbags, and i think, underneath that garb, this girl could look just as good as that postergirl she just walked past.--::

sat was a family gathering that exceeded my expectations; sunday a powerboat event with more food than action; monday was tennis at klem's with a broken string; tues was cinderella man with no sparkle but waffles that glistened. much is eclipsed in those words but i am cutting to the chase.

::--theres a day you will come back. your smile will be enough to warm the world and stretch a rainbow across my gloomy skies. how will i walk in the rain without slipping my hand into yours? i'll pull the hood over your head, look in your eyes, place my arm in yours, and walk on clouds. i cant say it enough, cant keep my eyes off you--::

2005-09-14T09:20:00.000-07:00

so long, good night. have you got nothing else to whisper, no more muted glances to cast? i hold your gaze, as long as you do, reading every word the eye-thread sent, memorizing each verse.

and so i run, with the looking-glass ahead. the window panes betray the humidity of a suffocating afternoon; the passers-by do not fail to cast the curious glance. At me. At my fellow jogger. five minutes; only? purposefully keeping my gaze off the timer, i stared straight into the glass, feeling disembodied. no i dont like what i see; i roll up those sleeves. punchdrunk admiration overwhelms her, i know that much.

the vehicle trudged along, and those suffocating pangs of nausea grips me again. i try hard to avert these thoughts, but that is so much a fallacy in itself. i glance out - dust, more vehicles, sun, jarring bright colours interspersed with dull black gravel. a sight enough to make the head throb. i detest afternoons as such, it makes you feel like a rider on those spinning tea-cups in a gaudy circus on a humid scorching monday afternoon. trapped.

it was just another formality, another courtesy. was it just me, or did everyone feel that way. i begin to feel guilty - why cant you enjoy the company at your disposal? where is the sincerity? where is the gratitude? very much buried under the ringing thoughts of last year, yesterday, the past hour, the last minute. you never really do live in the present.

2005-09-14T07:26:00.000-07:00

it's been awhile. just the mandatory inventory of my life in the past couple of weeks - high(and low) lights include the affair, the 6k mini AHM, be with me with J(not so bad on hindsight), my new tennis coach, my cool pilates instructor, receiving a small, but meaningful gift, from guan, interview with ny girl, oh seeing denise keller, getting my gown, cooking an italian meal (!) and as always, the fleeting moments spent with people i never tire of.

familiarity erodes cordiality, politeness, formalities. is this for the better or for the worse? the smses get shorter, more curt and to the point. you begin to give excuses, expecting to be pardoned. the number of phone calls dwindle. but of course, on the upside, you can always expect these people to be there when you need them, they are just a phone call away. you may not have met for ages, but something in your life turns sour, and all you want to do is scroll down the many redundant, meaningless names on your handphone's contact list, and dial the name so familiar, pour your heart out, cry your eyes out. because you know you will not be judged for it.

with new friends, you are eager to please. you want them to be on your side so god forbid they even get wind of the skeletons in your closet. you are all smiles, eager to forgive, willing to forget, overlooking the little misunderstandings which you would augment, and blow out of proportion with the people you get too comfortable with. it is unfair, but you do expect more from this latter group; whereas you approach the former bunch with zero expectations. it is unfair, and i know i would live to regret it.

2005-09-07T05:19:00.000-07:00

a favourite topic amongst bloggers seems to be...aims/purposes/pros/cons of blogging itself. doesnt it sound like a big waste of time - why bother fervently justifying your actions to a faceless audience if your sole purpose of blogging, as you so claim, is so you can voice opinions on a boundless platform. it is just mediocre blogging gee. celebrity bloggers just take themselves a little too seriously.

anyway, havent been updating for a bit. fri was ukbound at dbl-o, nothing to shout about, just met quite alot of people there, outside the club, ironically. sat was watching haroldpinter's betrayal at dbs arts centre, followed by marche dinner with yorkites, followed by chilling out at coffeeclub, which lasted surprisngly long. sun was guan's church in the morning, followed by signing up at california fitness. mon was shopping with klem for my two webcammies (yay!), followed by pilates, followed by resistance stuff with the trainer.

my memory is leaving me - i had to flip through the calendar to remember that urgh. still havent gone with jo on that belated shopping trip! the three movies that jason wanted to watch - cinderella man and be with me and something else! the dinner/lunch with quak and liza! call the caterer for next sat's gathering! pass tape to klem, submit claim forms to selena, call up ally, army hm, and people are flying off next week already.

ive been waking up early the past couple of days, and im not liking it. this sounds really sad, but honestly, its horrid to wake up, faced with having to make decision after decision of what to do with these hours ahead - yea inspired by cunningham. im not a morning person. it seems so much easier, awfully easier, to get up at say 11am (days when this happens, i actually feel a lightness in the heart when i get up), and know that hey its almost lunch. i have this and this on in the afternoon, i'll just go rush and do that and before you know it, the sun sets. the sky turns darker, the streets get emptier after the rush hour, and night brings with it a sense of congratulatory peace - it is as if the world is telling you, hey, well done, you've made it through this day and heres abit of beauty and serenity as a reward for making it through. finallly, the wind blows.

2005-08-31T09:40:00.000-07:00

Let me
Be a song that you can feel longer than just right now;
Let me
Be the girl that you can count on to rock your world.

When you have to look away, when you dont have much to say, thats when i love you - yea just simply that way. To hear you stumble when you speak or see you walk with two left feet, and yet i cant keep my eyes off you; i looked on endlessly.

You get mad when you lose a game, and forget that i'm there waiting, in the rain, waiting to say 'i'm so proud of you', no matter what. I couldnt look away, i couldnt get enough. And here's this promise i'm making tonight - you can count on me tonight, because i know i loved you, when nothing you do could change my mind.

- adapted from Aslyn.

Sappy pop written for the hopeless romantic. There are some things time cannot heal, and these exceptions, these diamonds in the rough, these precious few experiences in life we should cherish, no matter how hurting. In these momentuous occasions, you truly live, you summon up the blissful memories of yesteryear, augmenting the emptiness and pointlessness of the todays.

I am not even nineteen, and am finding these years of memories more than enough to last another lifetime. It is so true, when people lament about the difficulty of forging friendships late on in life, not to mention relationships. How do you understand what someone else has been through when you showed up only yesterday?

If, in the five acts of life's drama, you showed up too late, in the final act, how can you expect to empathize, sympathize, judge? But though i protest, go on, empathize, sympathize, judge, share the next five acts with me, i want you to be the star of it.

Anyway.

The photos below conjured up this little gnawing surge of, well for lack of a better word, nostalgia. Schools across Singapore today held the celebrations for Teachers' Day; pigeon holes were filled with cookies and sweets; teachers were swathed with unpolished craftwork, hand-drawn cards, amateurish poem.

This time around, Chris and I were not in our uniforms - no more green and whites for me, sadly. No more hemmed-up skirts, drawstringed blouses conspicuously missing the rafflesian badge more often than not. And looking at the chirpy ex-nanyang girls eagerly filling their teachers in on what JC had to offer them, Chris and I felt oddly...distanced from them.

Though not distanced from the institution, no too harsh a word, the grounds, that saw us grow from the sulky, self-righteous thirteen-year-olds who entered dreaming of being different.

To the indignant, rebellious, curious fourteen-year-olds ah, who fell in love.

To the ambitious, driven fifteen-year-olds who found five other best friends, and fell in love with tennis.

To the sullen, cranky sixteen-year-olds whose worlds now shrank to consist of examinations only. Who dreamt of each others' futures.

And finallly, to these humbled, grateful nineteen-year-olds, who now sit in the rusty swing with no one to hurry them off. With no school bell to announce commencement of lessons.

my fave teacher.

2005-08-31T06:29:00.000-07:00

my fave teacher.
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

happy teachers' day. im fortunate to have been schooled in nanyang, where i was educated by a team of wonderful teachers. and in that team, was this lady, my english teacher in secondary three and four.

an acquired taste, eh? well, when it comes down to the crunch, it boils down to one thing - the little things a teacher does for her students, they never go forgotten.

nygh boarding sch :)

2005-08-31T06:20:00.000-07:00

nygh boarding sch :)
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

view from the back of the school. this is the nygh boarding school, where the overseas scholars lived. i would be looking at this building whenver waiting for my mom to arrive at the car pick-up! a beauty of a building eh?

chris! and lonely canteen behind us.

2005-08-31T06:11:00.000-07:00

chris! and lonely canten behind us.
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

it was a half-day, and the campus was bare, stripped of the usual cheer and chatter, bitching and banter.

this was where jing and i first befriended cheng and elayne. queueing up at the pao stall, the second stall! the queue stretched till the end of the canteen, and why bother queueing up when you see a friend in the queue.

i spotted cheng. and got her to buy me a corn pau. it was sometime during my obsession with corn paus. i would eat a corn pau everyday, obsessively. now this rather immoral act of mine got us talking, and we ended up talking for the next 6 years.

netball court!

2005-08-31T06:06:00.000-07:00

netball court!
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

the netball court in nanyang, where we trained, and i tried hard to escape training :P see that pole there? its still the same, rusty one with the smaller hoop. i was a bad shooter.

remember doing those many circuits on the court. the coach would make you run the zig-zag routine, run to the middle of the semi-circle and jump at full stretch, do the 'scissors' run back, then sprint somewhere. and that was ONE. i think.

1. next stop - changi airport

2005-08-27T22:26:00.000-07:00

next stop - changi airport
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

last night's farewells. so there you go, im glad there werent tears, though arriving at the terminal earlier on my own didnt help things. ive gota rev up, up; not down. it is so absurd, but it had to be at changi that i met some old friends again - former team mates; ex-schoolmates. we caught the last train home, but i didnt sleep till 4am? chatting online, browsing sites, and well, just getting upset about everything and

2. me waiting for yanfen!

2005-08-27T22:16:00.001-07:00

me waiting for yanfen!
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

anything. me, being photowhorish while waiting! gonna be doing much clicking these next couple of weeks; nah, you cant capture memories in an instant, but well, it helps when lying on your pillow, reminiscing and dreaming, there is a picture to hold, a smile that almost says 'hello' back to

minglei; klement; me; boon the diva

2005-08-27T22:16:00.000-07:00

minglei; klement; me; boon the diva
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

sending boon off at changi last night. ive never met a more diva-esque dude.

solitary traveller

2005-08-27T22:15:00.000-07:00

solitary traveller
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

i love this picture for some reason. sepia conjures up nostalgia; her hurried pace conveys urgency; the many stairs down leading to a who-knows-where.

am and i

2005-08-27T22:13:00.000-07:00

am and i
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

ammily and i on the last train home :)

divine.

2005-08-25T21:21:00.000-07:00

divine
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

couldnt help ripping off chris' blog. this is a beauty.

onomatopoeia. sound words that is; words which mimic the sound it tries to convey. eg - crash; bang; ticked. what about words like 'hold'. the asphirate 'h'; the long vowel; the soft, lulling conclusion to this word - does it not mimic a silent cry of despair? a desperate whisper for attention? say it soft, let it linger, say 'hold me', say 'hold on', and i can picture the longing in the speaker's eyes, the desire and tenderness. delicious and painful at the same time.

a picture speaks a thousand words; but my dear, sometimes the way you speak one word alone says it all. you have only so much time, so say it once, and speak it well. and with that, i'd have memorized everything embedded in that word, i'd have it by heart.

-makes for a rather compelling love letter doesnt it. oh wells, you could use it, that is, if you beat me to it. and if you ever do use it, just pay me the royalties. best wishes to the two of you-

2005-08-25T09:39:00.000-07:00

yes, 'lost', ive disabled comments :)

anyway.

know what i want to do right now? yes 45 min past midnight? i wanna go downstairs, by the pool and strum (or attempt some semblance of that). thanks to you! 320033, 032033, 200033, 020033, 033000...gah, im always forgetting the last one! you're right, why didnt we do this earlier. doesnt matter, theres no rush, we wont tire of the music, i will be no less fascinated.

wonderful evening, great company, and came home to a nice surprise too - my first supp and debit cards :) i never promised to be good about this, did i. it's such a drag to have to care about finances though, whoever came up with the concept of money should be shot. investments, banking, insurance, interest rates, they are suddenly becoming real! more than just terms you pull out of the economics textbooks! and im getting cpf statements sent to me wth!

back to happy thoughts. cpf you're not a worthy adversary muahaha, because tonight, right now, i have a song that makes me smile.

2005-08-25T08:47:00.000-07:00

birthday card: 5 dollars
friendship: priceless

lost says: (11:32:18 PM)
haha. 21st mah.

lost says: (11:32:20 PM)
really.

lost says: (11:32:24 PM)
this year is an expensive one.

lost says: (11:32:36 PM)
if you have any friends you don't think are worth keeping, dump them before 2007 =P

*--Gurlnterrupted says: (11:33:28 PM)
!!! i cld keep u coz u wont be turning 21..'

*--Gurlnterrupted says: (11:33:33 PM)
i better start making friends above 21...

lost says: (11:33:50 PM)
what?

lost says: (11:34:03 PM)
9 Oct 2005, girl =P

*--Gurlnterrupted says: (11:34:37 PM)
ooh wow...u'll find yourself in a argument with me on 8 oct.

*--Gurlnterrupted says: (11:34:38 PM)
hahahhaa

*--Gurlnterrupted says: (11:35:05 PM)
!! thats why uve been posting stuff about digicams!

*--Gurlnterrupted says: (11:35:07 PM)
its a ploy!

2005-08-23T08:59:00.000-07:00

i feel strangely satisfied, contented today. it began somewhat gloomily, though i for one now welcome rainy mornings with open arms - all the better to sleep in, my dear. rainy mornings also give me one more excuse to postpone my long-overdued run till the elusive Later.

Accomplishments later in the day are well, not worth mentioning, though they meant something to me. Oh, finished Beowulf in one reading, despite still not being able to pronounce half the names mentioned in the translation! Ahh, the only downside of the day was an utterly pointless argument, or well, heated exchange of views, which left me unconvinced of his argument, and recoiling with some guilt at having used some phrases. At some point, i had toyed with the idea of just abandoning the argument, experience has proven this the wiser option. But of course, well, i thought, i have time on my hands, just play along...wont hurt.

But for a splitsecond, i had a glimpse of who i wanted to be - the one to convince herself that the argument itself wasnt worth breaking a sweat over. sometimes, apologise, even if you are in no wrong, because nothing is worth a potential confrontation. yea, does this make me a meek little subservient doe?

i prefer to think it makes me someone who has realised life is too short to wait for a tomorrow. but well, whatever works for you :)

2005-08-22T21:56:00.000-07:00

darlings i love yall! thanks for making me this long-overdued endorphin surge :)

2005-08-22T05:47:00.000-07:00

ive got news! ok the world does not revolve around me, ive got more than enough shout-outs these days reminding me how painfully common i am. hmp. not to detract, but yes, ive got news.

changed my flight date. so instead of leaving oct 4, im leaving oct 6 . at around mignight. im glad it's been delayed, i just dont need another two days spent wallowing in homesickness at an empty campus in york. singapore may not be much, but singapore is where almost everyone i know lives. and where home, as i know it, is. and where everyone i love, and eveyone who loves me, is.

just my two cents worth on the national day rally - i felt this is what a rally should be. it should be a speech that can rally the people to take pride in their land, annd rally the people to contribute to that vision of singapore so vividly painted out for us. for a couple of moments there, after PM lee ended the speech, i felt...rallied.

i was convinced that singapore, say 11 years from now, could really become as vibrant a city as our minister had painted it out to be. this was a minister who passionately believes in what he is saying, i thought. no sulleness, no jaded feelings, no pessimism. we need more of this, more technicolor, more enthusiasm. nay-sayers should stop raining on the parade, and let the celebrations continue. because this much i know - nothing is bourne out of pessimism; nothing emerges when you've got painful truths; nothing. conversely, the little bit of sunlight alone can rouse a withering plant; just as a single phrase of encouragement, a single expression of love can put a smile on an unusually dejected countenance.

2005-08-14T07:38:00.000-07:00

there is this publication targetted at writers and poets which contains a certain article about 'myths of writing'. amongst the many was a particular one which defiled the romantic notion of genius flowing from the pen, of inspiration being an intangible, magical ideal which one achieved because one was blessed, or because one was gifted, or because one 'made sure [he] got inspired every morning at 9am.

it is the circumstances which shape your outlook, and thus, your writing. i look back, and realise my journal entries for the past year or so have been laced with one persistent theme.

i wonder - do people write when they are enjoying honey and roses? do they pause to put brush to paper when all is sunny and life is tinged with a faireytale, picture-perfect rosiness?

it must taken a rather dreamy, idealistic fool to have written the following sollipstic piece of prose. sigh, i dont know whether to cringe, be amused, or approve of such foolishness. Extracted from a previous post:

2005-08-13T21:28:00.000-07:00

Finally picked up the spanking new orange birks yesterday! Ahem, correction, they are the calendula gizehs - a title which makes this humble set of footware sound like they are some extinct desert creatures. Hm, anyway, Tomato, to-mah-to. Sandals. Comfy. Good.

Also had meet-up with york-er/ites/ians yesterday at pacific coffee. Pleasantly surprised to find that guolin is doing the same course as i! And that those peeps were quite a pleasant bunch. And that im gonna have to rely on the outside world to supply me with entertainment ie music, videos, mtvs, anything digital. Some awesome firewall is going to stand in the way of me and illegal downloads, and trusty limewire will not stand strong in the face of this new-found adversary. Eh, so how?

Sigh, my solution - up my bid on ebay for the "complete season of gilmore girls in dvd".

Last night was a mini-splurging spree too. Chris and I finally got down to watching EIC, or a certain percentage of EIC, in action. The venue was China One. The damage - one uh, (i think it was) brandy cocktail which didnt go down too well, and a princely sum of 12 bucks. We're not alcohol people. We'll never become alchoholics. (see, i cant even spell the word.)

And so sat us, shouting our lungs out, competing with the booming background of EIC's runaway train or john mayer hits. We were talking about, no, not the birds and the bees. But just BIRDS. Yea, we were talking about chicks and ducks, and these are not metaphors. I'm talking about farmhouse animals. Lifestock.

Because Chris has chicks! No kidding! Four little chicks running around in the kitchen!

And i'm gonna get me a duck! Or at least adopt a duck when i get to york. I've got my eye set on one.

And this means we're well on our way to fulfilling our prophesy that we'll someday own chicks and ducks, and go hire an interpreter who doubles up as a porter, and go watch grand slams and become old ball girls and rule the world! Ok, take away the last one. But the list was something like that.

And this sums up another wonky post, by !me, and that is pronounced (*click*me).

the girls :)

2005-08-11T05:11:00.000-07:00

IMG_9883phukt
Originally uploaded by Pepper Lee.

couldnt resist

2005-08-11T04:54:00.000-07:00

pretty pic from tuesday, picnic with the scholars at marina bay =)

not taken by me!

2005-08-10T22:21:00.000-07:00

A simple truth: Bad things happen to bad people.

Fairytales teach you that, roald dahl teaches you that, tim burton tries to, primary school teachers may have left that out. Why have i neglected that! Bad things happen to bad people. Come on, chant along kiddo, chant along. Bad things happen to bad people bad things happen to bad people.

And i dont think ive been too good.

Yesterday was quite an experience. My first time in NTU, and it would suffice to say i was taken aback by the sprawling grounds (space is relative, ask any singaporean). Trees, greenery, space! Lake, wide roads, space!

Really it seemed such a pity people still have notions of NTU being a un-happening, un-cool institution. Granted, space doesnt necessarily be happening - 'you have space! whoa, happening!' - but i maintain, there IS a link, albeit a tenuous one.

Space generates a relaxed feel, which connotes comfort, which induces students to stay on-campus for most of their free time, which results in more life and activity in the halls, which is the concoction for your 'happening' scene.

I'd admit though, these people arent the crowd i normally mix with. Language barrier, sad to say. Some friends would identify with this - being labelled as the 'ang moh pai' gang.

It is not correct to say we cannot speak a word of mandarin. (i mean it!) We can speak it, we may not use it everyday, but most of us have studied it, taken higher mother tongue, and had an obscene amount of chinese vocabulary cramped into our heads, with attached model sentences to boot!

But unfortunately, even when we speak the language, it is just not in sync with what your typical singaporean would sound like. For me at least, it takes some effort to re-arrange the verbs, nouns, expletives to make it sound as Rojak as possible. To make it Singaporean.

Urgh! This wasnt the point of this post.

The point of this post: i shall be good. i promise to be good. bad things happen to bad people.

2005-08-08T05:52:00.000-07:00

the day started off fine enough: was a stoleaway in an nus law lecture, without that burden of a new school year dampening the excitement of getting to exercise some brain cells after a long hiatus. not exactly what i thought it should be, but oh wells, i shouldnt be judgemental. it's only two lectures i attended.

and then, fast-forward to an amazing afternoon spent catching up with ms foo and jieqi! guess what's more of a pick-me-up than my caramel latte - a four-hour session with one of my fave teachers. at the end of it, i really wished i could relive secondary school days again. being a student, you are so blissfully unaware of the preparations behind what you are presented with in class, you are more than occupied with you, yourself, and you.

these chats never fail to inspire me, and give me the affirmation that i've chosen the right path.

and then i had to come home to this. i was happy to hear that my neighbour had been transferred to the law fac, and was feeling no sense of remorse whatsoever. until you came along with your comment - 'some people are smart enough to take it up; others just see the short-term gains.'

am i reading too much into this? was that not a smack in the face? i havent felt so indignant in so long, but you never fail to bring out the worst in me.

today was not a good day at all. i keep reminding myself nothing is worth a tiff, nothing is worth soured relationships. not even my ego, and believe it or not, not even yours. i dont know what came over me, i sent a random message to jo, feeling desperate and just so out-of-sorts. i stared at my phone, scrolling down the contact list, wondering who i should call. i briefly entertained the thought of chilling the night away at a friend's place, just because i needed someone around to commiserate.

but in the end, my hands reached for the headphones and the trusty iPod. music music music, sarah evans' i couldnt ask for more was all i could hear.

2005-08-06T22:07:00.000-07:00

Finally got down to buying some textbooks yesterday! Just Nets-ing everything and seeing my bank account deplete, without (surprisingly) feeling the least bit of worry. So anyway, I'm now armed for york with my kino purchases - Seamus Heaney and Virginia Woolf.

Also managed to strike another item off my to-do list, grabbing a Office software yesterday (this is so embarrassing, i had thought itt was called OSX until louis un-patronizingly reminded me of my tech-geekiness). Hm, maybe i should read the latest issue of cleo (the horror.), which promises to educate its readers on tech basics, so we stop sounding like airheads. Another chi-ching of the cash register, another few hundreds of dollars down.

And law lectures start tomorrow! The prospect of going to lectures without any obligations/responsibilities is SO much more appealing than the thought of starting a freshman year. Maybe i'll regret turning down NUS law, i do find that nagging thought somewhat lodged in the back of my head whenever i hear all that chittering about law school.

Chris, if you're reading this - i think you'll enjoy charlie and the choc factory! And whoever said there was no top hat. He SO wears a top hat. A rather groovy one in my opinion. I don't know, personally i preferred the straightforward Matilda, and The Witches to this latest on-screen production of Roald Dahl's works. There lurks too much depths beneath the veneer of chocolate in this one.

Willy Wonka bears, disturbingly, an uncanny resemblance to the soon-to-be-late Michael Jackson. The oompah-loompahs reminded me of clones of Chuckie, that freakishly-sinister star of Child's Play. The mix of cheesiness and evil churns your stomach. It was like watching a clown in his sad moments, against the background of a fairy-lighted, neon-billboarded circus in all its man-made cheeriness.

On the upside, chocolate is turning me off, at least for a while. The image of fat boy, stuffing choc in his mouth, urgh.

2005-08-04T20:12:00.000-07:00

i always had this sneaky suspicion that i fell in love too easily. with objects, with songs, with movies, with books, with people, with places. of course, the only joy of life is the falling in love with all these surroundings, is it not?

but on the downside, along with the momentuous ecstasy and excitement comes the plunge. you expect reciprocation, you expect the ecstasy to be eternal, you expect these surroundings to remain. exactly. the. same.

atta girl, the ecstasy fades and is replaced by nostalgia, by memories of yesterday, and wistful dreams of tomorrow.

**

what a mountainload of admin stuff to settle.

1. meningitis immunization
2. passport shots
3. visa application
4. bank account application
5. reply york accomodation
6. get accomodation for 4-9 oct
7. submit laptop claim
8. collect a level cert

and on personal stuff.

1. pass jing the photos
2. upload the tspc photos
3. return zy his dvd
4. get presents for fen, jo , l.
5. meetup with tchs
6. get OSX

2005-08-04T07:44:00.000-07:00

so there. all said and done now, TSPC finally over. i had not given a thought to this ceremony, seeing it as a mere procedure. protocol. one of those red-tape functions you have to attend. one of those long yawns.

i ought to have been relieved and glad that it's over.

but i knew, as soon as the performance was over, that i would miss this experience the minute i reached home. it was sadness, laced with no relief, that made itself so intense. but of course, it was not simply having relegated TSPC to a thing of the past. there is also that monosyllabic reply, that cold shoulder perhaps?

seeing mrs seah and ms foo again was simply amazing. i wouldnt have known how much i missed them until i met them once more. mrs seah even gave me this sweet present with an equally sweet message. teachers touching lives? yea its more than mere lip service. miracles like these happen. little drops of heaven exist.

and then there was that chat with you. i would probably never tell you this, but gee, i take back what i said about no one ever being singular. you are. honestly. even if i were a detached, non-feeling being, i would still not deny this admiration. how can you be, so sincerely, so unabashedly, yourself? how can you admit to these idiosyncracies so readily, and explain them so innocently that takes all shame out of them, that convinces me these oddities are normalcy.

i hope you never lose this singularity. and for what it's worth, i take my words back: it is not that some people dont deserve to be upset, it is simply this - that no one deserves to be upset.

2005-08-02T03:41:00.000-07:00

Chris and I went to sentosa today!

Let's leave it at that. Haha ask if you wish to find out the day's proceedings. I will recount them for you with eyes downcast, and in a hushed tone, and make you swear on your life you will never spill beans. Maybe a contract should be drafted to, the world is a dangerous place these days, populated by nasty people who have no inkling what trust means.

Anyway, have been caught up in a whirlwind of activities the past couple of days. Highlight: I'm typing this very post using my very clean and bright and darlie-commercial-white ibook! It's pretty. I almost feel like i should wear gloves. Either that, or buy mountainfuls of mac accessories to armourise my ibook with. covers. shields. protectors. insurance. hm, my ibook would be worth more than i am. what a sad thought.

Other than this delightful purchase, yours truly has gotten another waitressing job. if track record is anything to go by, im praying haagen daaz at raffles city doesnt have to suffer a shut-down. yup, ice-cream girl!

There was something in the Time article which i just read that stood out, and rang a little bell. In-between the feature pages about fitness, health stats, good fats, there was this one commentary written about treadmill bots in gyms. How they are so absorbed, panting away, zoned out. The author supposes these gym rats go on running, out of terror that they may just achieve the pinnacle of biological uh, supremacy someday. ok bad word. The author asks whether achieving this excellence will force people to 'look around' and more horrifically, 'look within' themselves and probe that bruised ego, that disappearing self-worth.

Food for thought.

2005-07-26T21:25:00.000-07:00

i need to vent i need to vent!

argh what the hell happened. i woke up this morning with a major self-esteem crisis. in simple terms, it hit rock bottom!

i suspect its the haircut's doing. yes, chris and i went to RED'S hairdressing at Suntec yesterday and splurged on a simple cut and blow. and we re-emerged looking rather drastically different. (that being said, i still maintain my stand that chris' haircut honestly looks good. mine is a different story)

this fringe, or sad excuse for a fringe, is so damn short and while the experts at REDS might have moussed it and blew it and styled it such that it is hardly noticeable, my fresh-out-of-bed look this morning certainly concealed no flaws, and bottom line is, this fringe is horrid.

and in addition to that, sleeping at 3am last night means puffy eyes, puffy face, sluggish metabolism. and to think i took that waitressing job. oh gawd.

last night was great. staying out on a tuesday night with people who actually hold proper jobs. gee. i wonder how they are gonna sail through the day. haha, how i wish we had more time to get to know each other better. for now, it seems so rushed, so packed. its two more months for me, but only one more month for some. i wish these guys all the best, colleagues in the future? hopefully =)

2005-07-25T19:51:00.000-07:00

Is it my fault or yours. Does it even matter who takes the responsibility for this failure. Oh shut up, oh keep those niceties to yourself because as charming as they may be at first, i am tiring of insecurities couched in the 'maybes' or 'wait and sees'. accept it. move on.

pep, get your priorities right. you know what makes you crash, you know what vertigo feels like. so clear the thoughts, get some food, get some sleep, and things will work out. oddly enough, 'back to basics' is the best medicine, so ive learnt from OBS. take away the peripheries, take away the distractions, and concentrating on fulfiling the basics provides the best remedy for any problems you may be facing.

times when living almost seems tough, it suffices just to exist. purge the thoughts, and you will cease to live, you will merely exist. you will merely breathe, take in oxygen, and mechanically expel the carbon dioxide. get on with life, because the world doesnt stop spinning for you. master the skill of ceasing to live for a few hours, simply by refusing to process thoughts, and simply numb yourself to the surroundings.

escapism? at its finest.

2005-07-21T20:30:00.000-07:00

revelling in romance; the initial flutter of the heart, as delicate and subtle as ripples in a lake, and yet with the capacity to power a wave, a surge of tingles all over me. your face lights up, the world seems so technicolour, and your phone is once more the all-important object of focus.

i cannot wait. get a grip, i tell myself, what are the chances. but every once in a while, is it wrong to indulge in the thought that hey, maybe this is it. maybe the reason why you appear each time i close my eyes is because that lulling voice of yours has won me over.

with only myself privy to these thoughts, does it matter if i choose to take it as far as imagination allows. maybe you are the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, maybe im the gold at the end of yours, and maybe, just maybe, while each of us watches over the world on our separate wispy clouds, perhaps you will stretch out your hand and acknowledge the misty, pastel shades of blues, purples, reds, yellows, greens, which stretch across our seas and skies.

2005-07-20T09:09:00.000-07:00

the past couple of weeks flew by in a bustle of activity, and it is a pity that whatever memories etched is already being slowly eroded by the flurry of new going-ons elbowing their way into my very limited memory space.

fresh in my head: obs. those three days in pulau ubin were the most challenging i've had in days. physically. the kayaking, the peak ascent - which tested more than my arm strength - the eating in pitch darkness, the sleeping on pointed rocks, the bathing in ice cold water, the lugging of a canoe through muddy slushy grime. i did all that. and *GEE* im proud of it.

the company was fantastic too. like one of my watch-mates had put it, it was perfect. i cannot think of one thing i would change honestly. and im so glad for that. there is so much more i would like to say to this one person, and i honestly dont know if this person feels the same way.

pep! dont let it get to your head! breathe breathe breathe.

but it was great while it lasted.

2005-07-04T02:32:00.000-07:00

It's been a bleary-eyed day, and the phone rings while I was lazing in a jetlag-induced stupor. And this one phone call alone made my day.

Yahoo! Made it :) Ask me if you care :)

Besides that particular cause for celebration, I'd also intended to do a lil chronicalling of the UK trip. Fantastic, awesome it really was. Except for the first day, which was a scorching, disappointing afternoon in a deadly quiet York, spent lugging suitcases aimlessly due to incorrect directions from clueless passers-by, the rest of the trip was mostly awesome.

Highlights from York, where we spent two days - really glad to have met up with seniors there, credit all goes to the professor who kindly arranged the meet-ups. I almost wanted to break into tears the first day when i visited the uni with no guidance from the people there. it was honestly so quiet, save for the occasional flapping of the swans' wings causing ripples in the lake.

but the second day more than made up for it. there was just enough hustle-bustle, and camaraderie that i had expected in a uni, and just enough friendliness to offset the cold in the weather. i could imagine studying there, i said. the en-suite rooms were so pleasant too! and the prospect of unpacking my suitcase, making that room mine, is enough to make me smile.

i'll get those pretty toasters we saw in london. i think it was in a store called Octopus. those were the most cheerful toasters i had ever seen, and i didn't think household appliances had ever made me that happy. the toasters from urban outfitters were so pretty too!

oh yes, stepping foot into london felt like a shopaholic's dream come true. everything i had coveted online, everything i had browsed with only the navigation of my laptop mouse and the scrolling of webpages, i got to SEE for real.

urban outfitters bags, birkenstocks sandals in all colours and designs(gawd the heidi blum ones were really as gorgeous as they appeared online), the onslaught of harrod's food hall, the wimbledon memoribillia!

the wimbledon experience was in a class of its own, just as roger federer is. tsk, no i didnt get to see him, and the closet brush with greatness i got was being within metres of lleyton hewitt. little lley! i wanted to scream. never thought i'd be one to get star-struck, even with a 'little jack russell (john mcenroe's words)' like hewitt. but it was awe-inducing watching him effortlessly warm-up with those forehands and serves.

another memory to be etched was that afternoon at kensington park, after our morning tour of the palace. not to take any of the grandeur away from the late princess di's residence, but after so many trips around castles and palaces and cathedrals and whatnots, i couldnt really tell the difference anymore between a dungeon and a royalty's drawing room.

anyway, back to that afternoon. it was fairly nondescript if i really think about it. and if i chronicled it there is really nothing to be said. lets see: the wind blew. i placed a mapleleaf-shaped leaf into my book. the ice-cream man came by. a group of young adults invited us to play with them. a boy sneezed. the joggers jogged. dont ask me what was so memorable about the afternoon, but it was my first time lying on grass, in a park, under the sun, having lunch, and reading virginia woolf. with wind. with such a carnival-esque atmosphere on a tuesday afternoon. with thoughts of "wow why have i never done this before" flashing.

travelling is tiring, mentally exhausting, especially if you are navigating the streets of london sans tour guide, which was what we were doing most of the time. i pointed out this tee-shirt in a flea market which said "I'm with this idiot here and we are lost in London". I pointed this out to mom, who good-naturedly laughed.

talking about good-nature, i've never met more good-natured people than in the past couple of weeks. the nightly talk shows were hilarious - okay, maybe im confusing good-natured with humourous, as you will see, not all people who make you laugh are necessarily good in nature. i loved the conan o'brien nightly talk shows! haha, gee i laugh just thinking about that poker face. he had this joke segment, and one of the jokes, lifted from the dailies, acutely pointed out the similarity between Tim Henman and a piece of undergarment.

They both have lots of support. But no cups...

dont ask me what a bra is doing without cups. as for tim, oh wells, not in our lifetime. and not in his. what am i talking about.

what else? there was such a flurry of activity i couldnt absorb it all. at many a castle-tours, i wished i could just take ONE DEEP BREATH -whoosh- and take in a gazillion years of english history all at once. failing that, i just had to content myself with the bombardment of names like king henry the fourth, fifth, sixth. really creative people dont you think, those who came up with such names.

there was kensington palace, buckingham palace, hyde park, regent park, kensington park, harrods, london bridge, tower bridge, the wibbly-wobbly bridge, river thames, the big ben, the houses of parliament, westminster abbey, the shops at tottenham court road, the shops at chinatown, the big bus!, ooh the phantom of the opera, wimbledon, the river cruise, the national gallery - virgin on the rocks :) - and no that isnt an alcoholic beverage, st.paul's cathedral, and even then im sure ive left so many others.

but what is it you really bring back from these vacations? why do we spend thousands of dollars, tens of thousands sometimes for these vacations? what you get is a stack of photographs - some of which are over-exposed, under-exposed, and eh, what is that glob of thing doing in my picture. you are probably better off buying postcards, or lifting images online and photoshopping your face into the forefront of the big ben no?

well, it differs from trip to trip. for this one, i say no. it wasnt so much the castles and cathedrals that shaped the experience. but rather, the people, the culture. seeing so many disabled people navigating the streets independently, having a taste of what democracy is really like, being a minority race in a country which is predominantly caucasian.

speaking a language in an accent which is thought to be foreign. being conscious that you are different - i got that feeling alot on the first day, but thankfully it gradually diminished, though it wouldnt completely subside.

you are different, he said. and dont try to change that.

well, i had been bent on changing the colour of my hair pre-london-trip. but now im not so sure, not so much because im so proud of having black hair. but more because im ever so conscious now of whether people would think im trying to be something else. can i be proud of being who i am, and still want to change the colour of my hair?

eh, why not.

2005-06-20T05:18:00.000-07:00

i am Looking at the Pound. a fifty, a twenty, a ten. queen elizabeth's face smoothed over by my thumb. the smell of money inhaled - ah, now this can get addictive.

gee in all honesty, it is nauseating reading some blogs. i know - it is my choice. i choose to be nauseated, maybe a teeny bit because i can then berate people and talk them down, like i am doing now. but hey hey hey, i am not saying a thing about how plastic some entries can get.

they make you think: you must be kidding, this fulfils you? this warrants a smiley? come on, come off it, everything really appears like thornless roses, milk and cookies, strawberries and cream to you?! dont you have a pessimistic bone in you? hello, dont thoughts of you know, uh, futility or loneliness or disappointment or fear ever squeeze their way into that blooming bed of bright red roses? dont you have weeds.

take it whatever way you want, maybe i love to spread the gloom. haha, but without gloom, how do you know what joy is - yes you may jot that into the big book of epigrams.

anyway lil coward of me doesnt dare to post anything explicit about today's meet-up or about the afterward - walls have ears and blogs are just plain loudspeakers. the contract-signing is on wednesday, i wonder if i should be heaving a sigh of relief or wiping sweat off my brows. im signing away six years upon return. but then again, theres no looking back now, what is the *^%* point of being so sure of everything, of being so in control of the future. where is the thrill of living.

that deserved an exclamation mark.

where is the thrill of living!

so head-on, you plunge, and do the best you can with the tools you have. you grab the opportunities that come your way, and you savour life in all its sweetness, as well as its bitter bile. life throws you lemons, you just bite your tongue, wince, and move on, classifying that moment under the tag of 'memorable times'. everything looks somewhat rosy on hindsight, so will the grimiest, most trying period you are going through.

i cannot believe i had once been so grateful for being put through some crap. it feels like i was on some chemical high, some fleeting, dillusionary optimism that everything will be alright. because alright is subjective, and if you want if to be 'alright', things will be that way for you at least.

it seemed like the attaining of nirvana, gee. come out of a coma, and see the light. you vow never to step back there again, you are thankful for those periods because you would never have been able to empathise otherwise.

perhaps i still am thankful for experiences, good or bad. but i really wouldnt mind - really, wouldnt, mind - if life started becoming smooth-sailing. i promise, i will empathise still. i promise, i will be sympathetic. i promise, i will help the unfortunate. i promise, i will not take smooth sails for granted. i promise, i will not be self-centered. i promise, i will not forget the experiences. i promise, i will be good.

sounds like im striking some bargain with god, ennit. well, cmon i'll fulfil my side of the bargain. i really, really will. i promise.

2005-06-18T20:03:00.000-07:00

Heaven knows I've been waiting for you...

I drift i burn i fly
when you sing lullabies
I'm helpless I'm yearning
I'm like putty in your hands

I laugh, dream i cry
When you take me on a rollercoaster ride
You see me through and through
You see just who I am
Just take my hand and

Save me from this place
heaven knows im falling for you
my sweet embrace
heaven knows
heaven knows ive been waiting for You.

I had a dream that I
Was falling from the sky
At 90 miles an hour
I was bound to crash and die
But out of nowhere you came and rescued me
There must be some grace in the touch of your face
I'm so happy that I've found you
I'm no longer afraid

oh you save me
from this place
heaven knows i'm falling for you
my sweet embrace
heaven knows
heaven knows i've been waiting

before i met you life was slow-mo
i thought i had it figured it but
you came and turned my whole world upside-down

2005-06-17T20:31:00.000-07:00

I'm a blob! But a filial blob, because i've just reserved a copy of Freakonomics for my dad :) I can't believe what value people see in a book with this title, but it is evidently flying off the shelves, what with both kino and borders running out of its stock. Hope he hasnt secretly reserved a copy for himself though. So me - filial blob~

Anyway, on to why i am a blob. Its a sunny and cheery and all-too-hot Saturday morning, and any faux-cool teenager should be out there somewhere like, uh, sentosa, east coast. i couldnt be further off, even geographically speaking. im here, in the west coast, where you cant see a coast even. its harbourfront without a harbour in sight. and im lying in bed, lazily stretching like a cat, contemplating whether or not to haul ass and get myself all the way across the country to go swimming, like i said i would.

I probably will. Transport provided. But i've put on such a massive amount of weight lately, my lycra swimsuit will be stretched to bare threads. its an amazing excuse for getting a new wardrobe. but god knows my wardrobe has sizes that range anything from xxs to L. gee. im dumping the xxs sizes though, unnecessary discomfort and lowering of self-esteem.

I'm excited :) and rather in high spirits though. i dont give a flying crap about what You are going to think anymore, because you dont even know my real name. thats right, why should i care. and no, this is no stupor.

2005-06-16T19:32:00.000-07:00

People are posting statistics about their sex lives on their blogs. there is no reason why i shouldnt be allowed to lapse into swearing once in a while.

i should stop getting myself into fits over the silliest reasons! blame it on company or hollywood if you wish, but the only thing that popped into my head was, in neon colours, 'fuck you. why the hell am i doing all that if this is what i get back.' add in bits of hyperventilating and you get the picture.

and then at the other end of the spectrum, theres you. get with it already. im sorry, im really sorry about this, but i just dont feel like replying or arranging times anymore only to back out at the last minute. im sorry, honestly. and i think ive dropped enough clues, without saying 'no' outright. i have no qualms if it sticks to simply messages, but it inevitably leads to something else, and i just want to avoid it while i still can.

i really should blog about this - wednesday, he brought up a pretty interesting point. maybe i am really not cut out for that. and fuck it, so be it! im not cut out for it. why should i have to cover this fact in shrouds of empty, sugar-laden bullshit. i dont have to, and i just have to face up, and accept the fact that gee, this is the way i do things, so you respect that.

2005-06-11T05:52:00.000-07:00

have not laughed so much in ages. love ya chris :)

im gonna miss these friends so much. its the silliest things i do when im around them that make me feel like even the most boring shopping trip can turn into a self-amusing, out-of-body sort of experience.

i contented myself of worldly goodies though - gee i shudder to mention how much ive spent just these couple of days. these bagful of things i clearly do not need. i just conjure up items to shop for, just so i trawl the malls PURPOSEFULLY. yes, that is the secret to having a fulfilling shopping trip. and right now, after having satiated my illusory need for the Right tee-shirt, amongst other Right items, i am looking out for a roomy bag, big enough to contain my wallet, a book, a bottle, and small enough so i dont look like im permanently house-moving. elegance is an added bonus.

its pleasurable, satisfying - this whole exercise of acquisition. but of course, the company makes it all the more better. not an added bonus, but a requisite really. im gonna miss these days...

2005-06-10T05:33:00.000-07:00

i have never argued with anyone the way i argue with my dad. not with this level of harshness, not with this level of intensity, not with this level of candour, not with this level of spitefulness.

yes, i realise i say things sometimes just to hurt, and i just know that someday i will regret doing this. after a while, we just agree to disagree, and suffice to say, we disagree on just about everything.

from whether language and race are separate, to whether principals should be the best teachers, to whether or not the phenomenon of losing things with such amazing frequency can be blamed on genetics.

everything under the sun.

the things you say to your family members - you can never imagine saying to your friends, teachers, relatives even. probably no one knows you inside out like your family members do - the way you sleep at night, the way you flare up and resemble a raging lunatic, the way you look first thing in the morning, the way you just want to hug a pillow and have a good cry.

earlier on in the day, layne suggested reading through previous blog posts, right from the very first post. i shall do that :)

2005-06-08T01:57:00.000-07:00

Rushing off for tennis now, just hit a couple of balls since I discovered this new Babolat racket hanging around in my parents' room!

Just wanted to say I'm Back!

2005-06-06T21:45:00.000-07:00

Oh dear, it's only after blog-surfing - im a closet voyeur *hangs head* - that i realised how much im missing out. why does everyone's life seem so technicolour and so yay! and hooray! and shopping! and oh-so-cool!

well, on the bright side, haha ive had quite alot of first-times here. i went to a lesbian nightclub with joan and jeremy! urm, the culture is so different, i felt like a country bumpkin for feeling exhilarated at the prospect of drinking amidst a sea of people who would have to hide their sexual preferences back in singapore.

it is considered such a natural, such a lifeststyle in melbourne, that heterosexuality and homosexuality is just as mundane a choice as say, whether you prefer coffee or tea, decaf or extra espresso.

apart from musings on sexuality, ive been having culinary lessons, compliments of my aunt, her maid, and uh, to some extent, jeremy. not that i can even imagine myself purchasing poultry back in singapore or laying an unmanicured, but still clean, finger on chicken breast or liver, but given the washed, prepared, cut, and short-of-sanitised chicken breast now, i can actually make real food!!

once again, im going through a dry patch when it comes to shopping. just seems that there is so much more i could do, since im out of range of the DKNY - Guess - BeBe onslaught that is singapore. my aunt is so pretty and trendy, she can be clad in something from the flea market, bought 5 years ago, and still look like she just stepped out of Cosmo or People, or whatever mag it is that features hot celebs.

And books books books! I cant wait to start studying again. I can't wait to start scribbling little notes on the sides of my books, think about the structure of sentences, ponder the difference between adverbs and adjectives, and write essays again. Albert Camus' The Outsider is an amazing read. The touches of existantialism depresses me- is there nothing more to life? But at the same time, the simplicity of the protagonist, anti-hero Mersault is breathtakingly gripping. Heartbreakingly touching.

His recount of the days in prison were particularly poignant. What does it take for one to come to terms with existing for the mere sake of it. To lie on your back, hands tucked behind the head, and lapse into inactivity of the body, peacefulness in the mind, and simply watch the marshmellows in the sky drift by, lonely as you are, as the hues of the plain blue change to a brilliant peachy orange.

The night is here, another day has passed. Can you achieve unconsciousness, with the mind screaming to you that you have accomplished absolutely nothing during the day. That your existance had contributed, nor removed anything from the world. That no one had benefitted from your breathing, neither had anyone suffered. You made no difference, and another day has passed.

Mersault confronts the chaplain with his annoyance, his indignance, at having to listen to religious preaching during his last hours. In his very words, he was annoyed at having to waste his timee listening to something he cared nothing about and had no interest in. He was confident of his values, his life was the one thing he was sure about, and he was not about to let this chaplain boggle him with speech about afterlife and sins and repentence.

As he knew it, he was charged guilty of a crime, not guilty of a sin. These were two separate entities to him, and he refuses to accept the chaplain's call for repentence - because simply put, he had not sinned. The members of the jury, the prosecutor, the judge - they have no say in divine judgement.

I have no qualms saying I admire this anti-hero, though at the same time repulsed that Albert Camus should indulge himself in crafting such a surreal character. I'd have a higher chance meeting a Prince Charming, than ever meeting a Mersault. Such a character does not exist. We live, and we 'play the game'.

2005-06-04T20:06:00.000-07:00

I miss home! :(

And I miss you and you and you and you...

Haha but can't say im not lovin this phase of my life :) yep, im doing what i had fantasized - besides conversing with ferrero in spanish, yes that is still a fantasy - im enjoying some degree of annonymity, some level of unconsciousness right here in the bustling cities, just minding my own business and sipping my latte while watching the world go by.

Watching the sun-kissed blondes in their pretty white hats, the heartbreakingly-too-cool-to-be-true dudes flashing joey-esque grins. And me! With my dearest cuzzies! And the best book ive read in the longest time! Watching as the slightest glimmer of orange floods the sky to announce the day is over...

I could spend my entire vacation here at Great Ocean Road. If i could, i would just bring it all the way back with me to Singapore and transplant it into my home. I want to step in this all over again everyday, feel the icy icy ICY!! cold wind beat against your skin - it kinda deludes me into thinking it benefits the skin, kinda like a facial au natural.

It IS queer. I've always envisioned myself a city girl - i love the noise in Starbucks, the low-fat lattes, the possibility of engulfing a world of knowledge when i step into Borders. I love trawling malls aimlessly and bimbotically pointing out a ridiculous-looking hat which i'd never wear in the Singapore streets. Which was why i believed I would be a better fit in Sydney.

But even at Sydney, it was the times spent kicking that helium balloon at the harbour, consuming low-percentage alchoholic drinks at night, chatting and lounging alongside buskers in the streets, that left the most indelible memories.

For Melbourne, well, i rediscovered the geek in me :) mueseum tours! art houses tours! yea, and i only yawned once. i guess it was the company as well that made it all better :)

and oh, rod laver tennis arena! :) wimbledon here i come, heh.

But first up, back to home sweet home ;)

- you learn to laugh at yourself when you mature. laugh at the ugly button nose, the absent-mindedness, and when you laugh off these little quirks, these imperfections which had once plagued you, the laughter makes everything ELSE in life seem so worthwhile. It's as if you're telling yourself, and others, that hey - ive no time to be bothered with things that don't interest me. ive more important things to worry about. bugger off, it's no more than a joke to me :) i can handle it.

ive never felt more certain, more confident, and at the same time more apprehensive. but i'd reasoned it out; and felt an incredible surge of relief after my reasoning.

what's to fear. what the hell is there to fear. face up to it when it happens, and don't think twice about it before that. what will be, will be. i love this.

2005-05-19T08:13:00.000-07:00

Ironically, it is only after terminating my newsroom stint that I have grown so acutely aware that there is a world beyond my own nose, that there are issues more pertinent than issues like transport fare hikes and blogger defamation suits - and no, im not talking about uni apps.

www.signonsandiego.com/uniontrib/20050515/news_mz1e15howard.html
read this.

A Holocaust reprisal, on any scale, any level, in any country, under any circumstances, cannot be tolerated. How can responsible media fail to underscore this! Flip through ST and any mention of North Korea pertains to its nuclear capabilities and potential 8-party discussions on this issue.

Pardon my ignorance, but the horrific living conditions highlighted in that san diego union-tribune article - is that already common knowledge? Is it just me holed up in my comfort zone of air-conditioned cafes, low-fat lattes and wireless LAN connection? So everyone else knows of this already?

Prisoners are arbitrarily murdered by security guards. Women suffer from forced abortions at the hands of unlicensed doctors. Newborn babies are beaten to death. And sons and daughters are publicly executed in front of their mothers.
This is not the story of an age of slavery from centuries past or of a survivor of Nazi Germany's Holocaust. It is what is happening at this moment inside the gulags of North Korea. The stories of gulag survivors are often too horrible to believe for the citizens of civilized countries. If one were to have the opportunity to speak with a survivor of a North Korean gulag, what they would reveal might be well beyond the threshold of the listener's imagination.

Someone, anyone, please go help these people! I almost wish this journo was another Jayson Blair, concocting facts and fabricating real-life accounts, because no human being should have to go through what these North Korean captives are experiencing.

Prisoners are provided just enough food to be kept perpetually on the verge of starvation. They are compelled by their hunger to eat, if they can get away with it, the food of the labor-camp farm animals, as well as plants, grasses, bark, rats, snakes and anything remotely edible. In committing such desperate acts driven by acute hunger the prisoners simultaneously incur the extreme risk of being detected by an angry security guard and subjected to a brutal, on-the-spot execution.
Not surprisingly, the prisoners are quickly reduced to walking skeletons after their arrival. All gulag survivors said they were struck by the shortness, skinniness, premature aging, hunchbacks, and physical deformities of so many of the inmates they saw upon arriving at the gulag. These descriptions parallel those provided by survivors of the Holocaust in infamous camps like Auschwitz.

The mute photographs alone speak volumes, and the suffering they articulate is more than enough to make your heart bleed. Why. Why arent we trooping down to help these people! Why are we sitting here in our ivory towers! What is wrong with everyone! Sure, this reaction may sound immature, childish, but tell me, will any leader in his right mind be building the likes of ten atomic bombs, refusing nuclear treaties and enslaving his people this way?

How is this even different from the build-up to the second world war!

Tonight, pray that everyone of those sufferers know it in their hearts that there will come an end. That there will be light at the end of the tunnel, and that God is watching over them.

BY-LINE OR BY-LIE

2005-05-18T06:17:00.000-07:00

Washington Post - "Jayson Blair, the New York Times reporter who resigned last week after plagiarizing a story about a woman whose son died in Iraq, never talked to two other soldiers' parents he quoted in separate articles, the parents said in interviews this week.
The Rev. Tandy Sloan, an associate minister at a Cleveland church whose son was killed in Iraq, said he did not meet or speak to Blair, despite the fact that the reporter published his comments and described him at a church service.
"The article he wrote was totally erroneous," Sloan said. "He hadn't talked to me. He fabricated the whole story, is basically what he did."

Chanced upon a single-line mention of this in today's ST report about the Newsweek retraction of article. With every hour of my days now left to my discretion, scanning the papers from cover to cover is one luxury I can afford. And more than scanning, lo and behold, i actually READ. Something I never did, at least for the local dailies.

So anyway, this Washington Post report hardly shocked me. What shocks me is how the local dailies have yet to uncover any cases like this in our utopian state. Unethical journalism, i believe - and feel free to challenge me on this one -, is more of a preponderance than you would think.

Confesse it: Don't you have doubts sometimes about fallacious articles based solely on "unnamed sources" or interviewees whose "names have been changed to protect their identity"?

Spend just a couple of months in the newsroom, and you would be utterly certain that the pressure to get the scoop, to report the breaking news, to upstage your fellow journos is so immense. You want the juicy bits, the scandalous quotes, the insider information that no one else would be able to report. And occasionally, you might just (just!) be tempted to conjour up the ever-convenient "unnamed source" to back up your angle, to give your story that extra oomph lacking in the other dailies.

It is really a little too convenient isn't it? But what can be done. Sadly, if the confidentiality priviledge of hiding behind the term "unnamed source" is removed, and journos have to identify all sources not by pseudonym but by their real names, our dailies would probably be starved - emancipated. TNP might cease to exist, don't you think.

What can be done. Perhaps, as this Washington Post article suggested, editors can afford to be more vigilant. Supposing the second draft of an article contains juicy bits that were suspiciously lacking in the first, they should logically suspect something amiss. Why leave out the meat if it's right there on your plate! And another measure, albeit very far-fetched, could be a mandatory verfication of sources in the form of journos listing their sources' contact numbers and personal information at the end of their articles, for the eyes of the management only - yes, not even the editors - so that supposing another Newsweek-like fiasco surfaces, the editors and management can publish an immediate reply authenticating the credibility of their journos.

"Frankly, no newspaper in the world is set up to monitor for cheats and fabricators," says NYT editor Howell Raines. True, in an idyllic world that is. For every embezzeling banker, every lawyer with an expired license to practise, you have a lying journo. Between fact and fraud, i take fact. But if your fraud is too compelling and juicy, well, thats another story.

2005-05-15T19:08:00.000-07:00

It is only once in a very-long while that, during my trawls on cyberspace, i pick up something worth blogging about, other than my very grand and exciting life, narcissus i am.

Last night, surfed into the popular local blogs again, and was disturbed, immensely, by a particular incident causing a furore on the uh, "blogosphere" - quotation marks because newly-coined words irk me.

So background: a Today journalist writes an article about freedom of speech online, and interviews a couple of these famous local bloggers. She quotes them in the article, ONE line each, and subsequently, these bloggers accuse her of taking their quotes out of context. They seethe - Singapore media is one big propaganda machine! Where is journalistic integrity! Down with ST! They attack the poor journalist, and her editor, and moan about how they should have taped the interview down.

Get a grip, sheesh.

So alright, i grant you that journalists may not accord you the tone you wish to confer. Journalists may take your words out of context, but as long as they quote you word for word, is it really wrong for them to leave out the prior and following sentence, and feature solely the ONE line they picked up on? Were those not also your words?

The job of a journo is to report the truth, and also to sensationalise it, exaggerate it, give it multiple angles so the public is free to interpret it any way they so wish. (columnists are a different matter altogether, but hold your horses, later later.) So can you fault the journo for picking up the one sentence which binds her story together, especially if you had indeed uttered those exact words?

And blaming the editor is even more ludicrous. The said editor was not even present during the interview, and the job of the editor is not to go pounce on all their journos, asking them if their interviewees had said those exact words. Fine, if you are the president or prime minister, then journos have tapes and all to verify the exact quote. But hell, who do you think you are. The editor probably doesnt give two flying craps about these quotes. Especially if they are one-liners.

And should the editor give two flying craps about these quotes? I think not. The editor makes sure the article has a sensational angle, makes sure the article is grammatically correct, makes sure the big-shots dont get misquoted. And case closed, job down, lets go out for drinks.

So yes, while I empathize with the bloggers in question, afterall bloggers are all narcissistic pigs who love to see their words and names in print - whether online or in the news -, i think it is ridiculously unfair for them to blame the journo, the editor, and in association, the paper, the local media, the country. gee. and the pride they have while slamming these accusations, cmon, you would think the world was conspiring to misquote them on that one measly line.

and dare you still refute the 'whiners and wimps' comment.

2005-05-14T22:15:00.000-07:00

Give me all the knowledge in the world, charm me over. I want to spew inspired dissections, I want to revel you with the music from my fingers, I want to bowl you over with the genius of this poem, that novel.

Gee. Where did that come from.

It scares me, how little I know. How the world has conspired to deceive me, for 19 years now, that I was urm, some semblance of Smart. What utter rubbish. I do not care for nuts how you define wit, how you go out of your way to conceal painful truth in metaphors and euphemisms. You either have it or you don't. So I know where I stand now, and will learn to deal with mediocrity and not being a snowflake >.<

Yet to experience boredom. Somehow, if I just refuse to think about how mundane things are, life actually seems pretty darn interesting. Even people-watching can be the most invigorating activity - check out that hair, what is she thinking?! and those heels! omg, is that kumar again?

Watched Kingdom of Heaven on Friday, and Ridley Scott is cinematographic god. All hail this genius, honestly. This somehow gets me more than the whole Ocean's Eleven kind of funky soundtrack, funky screenshots - it doesnt reek of a pretentious, trying-to-hard sort of feel that the Ocean's Eleven guy - whats his name whats his name - Steven Sodenburgh (!) possesses.

And yesterday was surreal! Thank you for the play, the warhol :) Gee, my knowledge of Singapore history has stagnated since primary school. I know, history doesn't change, but the lies you read in primary school are supposed to be uncovered by the time you are in secondary school. Then the pseudo truth you firmly believed in secondary school would be shaken once again in jc, people try to shock you, stun you, amaze you. And finally, you eiher reach a point where jadedness grips you - you simply do not care, bo chap - or you become a full-flung rebel.

There, there. No matter. All is not lost. Starbucks here I come now!

2005-05-09T20:46:00.000-07:00

I absolutely love Michael Buble's Home - it'll all be alright, I'll be home tonight. I'm coming back home. It didn't strike me, the lyrics, till that morning at the cafe. Tears were blinked away, and sipping my latte, I just needed that hug, that assurance - no matter how implausible - telling me you believed in me.

Yesterday was perhaps one of the most fucked-up days I've had for a while. It takes no landslide, no heart attack, no crash, but a simple, idle thought. I do not regret telling that lie - it was a white lie at worst. If I hadn't signed my name there, it would be akin to giving this up. And I simply cannot bring myself to allow a silly mistake to trample on a future.

And with all these thoughts friggin clouding my head, I somehow allowed myself to lose another phone. My panasonic pimp phone. That phone which parents had bought for me after my proud proclamation that I hadnt lost the Sony Ericsson at ALL.

Cmon, cmon stay rational. breathe. in. out. breathe. you've gone through worse right, this aint that bad. its just a phone. no biggie. just go down to singtel now and claim that sim card now and go grab some lousy phone at a measely 10 per cent discount. go go go out now and quit letting these thoughts fuck you up.

I hope nothing gets in the way of our phuket trip. was just telling cheng how bothersome it is that even pre-departure, we're already having problems. i hate having my friends, even my closest friends, see how i'm clutching at straws. i just hope everyone comes back from the trip satisfied, happy, contented. For myself, it probably wont be the shopping and spas, i know how jittery i will be feeling, so i just want to go with a peace of mind. and i want to come back with more than i leave with.

thank you for yesterday! it was literally the only highlight of my day, and for that split-second, i indulged in wondering what might have been. but that is a once upon a time, is it not? at least i can say, it was worth a shot. it's funny how you never notice the charm in the most every-day things. the most common nuances of a person's speech, the individualistic -whats that word whats that word - argh whats that word?! (it means quirky trait). blah. i hate it when a word eludes me.

meta-blogging at its best, i present to you.

2005-05-04T21:11:00.000-07:00

Pepper Lee JY/... and dont u think the sound of keys being typed really fast is actualli kinda nice
Pepper Lee JY/... haha
Lisa Tan SW/S... yar hahaha
Lisa Tan SW/S... ok this is getting kinda weird
Pepper Lee JY/... no seriously!
Lisa Tan SW/S... Eddiction?
Pepper Lee JY/... like even when im typing something like....
Lisa Tan SW/S... :P
Pepper Lee JY/... hahhaahhahahhahhaha
Pepper Lee JY/... it soudns like im doing something really importatn
Pepper Lee JY/... :P
Lisa Tan SW/S... hahahah!!

Yes. This IS ridiculous. Anyway, my second last day at work. I'm frigggggin bored. Bored out of my wits. Incredibly free. Someone give me some work!

I am a workholic, in a sense. In a very narrow sense. In the sense that I'ev got to be occupied. And lo and behold, I actually found myself heading straight back to yester-week: I was trawling through classified once again.

After my Dec-Jan escapades which involved circling classified like some retrenched middle-aged worker, I vowed never to have to rely on those tiny black-and-white prints ever again. I would, muahaha, be so in demand that companies will be dying to employ me even before I graduate.

But I was back looking at "Temp and part-time" once again.

There was this Quiksilver person I was rather tempted to apply for. And of course, several waitressing positions at places that I suppose will not be closing down anytime in the near future ala Tuscan. But I just flipped the paper close and told myself, cmon, take a break. Gal, its not like you have nothing better to do.

Because I do.

And I'm just not making any effort, as of this moment at least. Need to erase certain episodes from my life once and for all, even though everyone bloody tells me its bloody impossible. Well, then I got to take comfort in knowing that, sigh, God makes everything happen for a reason.

So what can I look forward to? Barring any unforeseen circumstances? A re-birth, of sorts. No more throwing money away. No more immorality. No more shadiness. No more excuses. No more pain relievers.

:)

On to my next dilemma. The whole law-literature debate once again. So on the way to work today I decided to just imagine. Just Imagine what it would be like to be studying Literature overseas, most probably in York or Warwick. Literature and Philosophy. And I would complete the course in three years, and hopefully Moed will allow me to do a one-year masters course before returning.

After that, NIE. After that, i suppose with a masters they would allow me to teach in a j.c? Yes. and following that, after 6 years, i guess i could still choose to pursue my urm, as-of-now-unrealistic dream of being an associate professor. either that, or i could carry on, and perhaps do a stint in hq, and then aspire to principal-hood.

it all soudns nice and rosy. nice hours. working with students. teaching a subject i had loved.

the cons? Will i still love literature so much> Will I excel in lit in York? i mean, afterall it IS york. it isnt Singapore. You dont ahve to compete with people who think "lah" and "lors" qualify for punctuation. Will i feel intimidated studying under those old wise bearded british professors?

Will i be able to talk myself out of the stupid income issue? Will i regret not pursuing a law degree, which will give me tons of moolah to splurge?

Sigh.

God, just help me make the right decision. And help me not to look back. And please, help me remember that happiness cannot be measured by dollars and cents. The most important thing now is. I know what it is. God help me.

2005-05-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

Lying on my tummy, togged in a spanking new bright red top, cooped up away from the blistering sticky sweaty heat, I am.

I wonder if I am just as deluded. Chanced upon this blog of a *JC student today. She was describing how her law interview went, how she tried to appeal for the double degree, how she still dreams of going Cambridge. How she is torn between literature and law. (no. i am REALLY not making up this persona to talk about myself in the third person. she does exist.)

And as I was reading about her "ooh! how i regret not applying for cambridge!" and her "darn I must have lost my flair for writing", part of me just wants to point and laugh. Let loose the bitch in me and just blatantly tell this girl that 4As and S paper attempts might not even get you into Cambridge. Much less thoes results of yours. So muahaha, go bite the dust.

And then. This other part of me is so conscious that others might very well be doing the same to me. Gee, who am I to talk big. Who am I to pine for professor-hood, for enjoying being an old fuddy duddy someday cooped up in a law library buried in musty age-old books of wisdom and inspiring young minds. Gee.

Stop waxing lyrical about literature and how writing keeps you sane. You just don't see how damn cliched this sounds. Straight out of some Dead Poets Society 80s show. Vanquish those childhood dreams about oxford and cambridge and get it into that darn head of yours that you are just not good enough dammit. What you can do, others can, and better.

Every man has their right to dream right. Yes you can dream, as long as you don't feel that the world owes you this dream. No one owes you anything, no one is indebted to you. No institution should feel obliged to take you in. It is not their loss, ever, if you do not enrol there. Get that into the puffed-up airhead of yours.

2005-04-29T00:00:00.000-07:00

Life works in wonderous ways. A million possible permutations. A billion different paths I could take. But every choice I have made, has led me to today, this minute, this chair, this second, this emotion.

How wonderfully ironic it must have been. The situation was so bitter, it almost seems comic on hindsight.

Walking out of the interview room, I spotted Esther, she spotted me. And it just seemed natural that two individuals so emotional at that time should huddle in an embrace, as inappropriate as the venue and situation might have seemed - N.u.s.

But bitter irony. I was about to collapse into a rant about how my overconfidence might have cost me the law admissions interview. How incredibly unprepared I was. What came over me. Why couldn't I have been more careful in checking the documents. Why Why Why.

But no. Esther was jubilant. She got the s.[p]h scholarship. overseas. We huddled over my phone, waiting for the obnoxiously-slow panasonic phone to finally unveil the. THE. message.

Local.

There you go, pep. There's your answer. You may never know why. You may feel so cheated now. So mediocre. But wipe those tears away, lift that tear-stained face up to face whatever the next couple of months hold. Get your life back together.

Hey, take the plunge. You know it will all be worthwhile. It will all be worth it. Just these few months. In exchange for a better couple of years. Remember those months when you knew you were happy?

Sorry, I just cant muster up that enthusiasm anymore. It's just too many setbacks. One too many.

Pick yourself up, girl. Everything will be alright.

2005-04-23T20:15:00.000-07:00

I just smiled =)

Lightness in my heart, the unbearable, the inconceivable smile that has been stifled in a numbness.

I don't want the scholarship.

And between the devil and the deep blue sea, I choose the latter. Plunge headlong. Gash blood if I may, bleed if I happen to, but throw yourself into the deep end, fight for life, to stay afloat.

Isn't that what life is about?

2005-04-23T19:55:00.000-07:00

What a plunge! What a day! What joy! What fitfullness!

...

Yesterday, the first time I decided to take the plunge, to follow the head instead of the heart, to come home with less than I usually do. With less baggage. With a plan. Of what the night should be like. Because it is possible.

Yes, because a whiff of Happiness - unbridled ha-ha-ha, slave to nothing - is possible.

Possibilities, Hope flashes in my head, and for the first time in the longest period ever, I sense that I can still be the upright, reason-driven, law-abiding person I had always been, and I want to be. Take nothing more than you deserve, because no one else should have to suffer as a result of your wrongdoing.

This interviewer confided in mom, telling her she must be so proud of me. "She has such strong values, such a clear vision of what she wants."

Si. To hell with the tiers. To hell with the wedding-cake of smorgasboard of scholarshops. I'm having my cake and eating it, and then maybe taking the leftover crumbs to smash in your face, because bwahaha, Happiness is not six years of hiding your inexperience and having to suck up to contacts for leads.

I'm not a eager beaver, not a hungry journo. Enough of nodding away with the occasional hmm. Enough of the fake laughs. I speak. You listen.

Two months more to make a change because no change is arising out of your non-action. What does this mean? The white walls and white beds? Can you do it? Can you?

Yes. Because it'll all be worth it.

No. Because it's going to cost.

Yes. Because you can take the bloody scholarship and save on tuition fees later on.

Yes. Think of all the trouble you will save in future.

Yes. Because this is your future we're talking about.

No. Because I swore never again. Never again. Never again.

Yes. Because you're just being a proud pig-head.

Yes. Because you will not have this opportunity for a long time.

Yes. Because you will be Happier.

Yes. Because you want to say Yes.

2005-02-23T07:26:00.000-08:00

Listen to me: I'm just a kid, so treat me like one, please. Give me jeans, sandals, nike backpacks. Make allowances for my petulance, my lapsing into 'you know's and 'likes', my wanting to go home. My unabashed feet-tapping when Ciara is played, my temporary high while flipping through Elle. Let me call you 'uncle' instead of your first name. Go ahead, ask me if I can manage all this, offer to offload me. Come on, doubt me!

I walk into the empty conference room, with the PR lady in tow. She shows me to my seat, on the right-hand side of the VIP. And a spritely young lad tells her to "entertain" me, while the Director and managers get ready. Get ready, for me? I sit, facing a panel of men twice my age, men who flew into town for their company's anniversary dinner, who have been managing an international company before i was even an embryo, who were now set on impressing....me.

And i wonder how in the world the next hour will ever pass.

It did, and it speeded by me quicker than i had thought. I hope no one saw through my smokescreen, my shield of nonchalence/confidence/enthusiasm, to realize I am only an 18-year-old.

Lee asked me in the car if I had just graduated from varsity, and instinctively, i lied. Yes. Just joined the company a couple of months.

back in the conference room, all i'd wanted to do was throw off that jacket, get up from that table, and tell them 'guys! im 18. why are you telling me about access flooring, inviting me to your gala dinner, preparing such a sumptious feast for me, when i frankly dont give a *&*$#! So can we just dispense with the formalities, and tuck in? With our hands? Because i don't see how that miniscule pastry even deserves the use of cutlery?'

back in the newsroom, the editor asked, 'were you intimidated!' i smiled, and thought...

'i deal.'

2005-02-23T07:18:00.000-08:00

This song takes me right back to that evening. And I don't even have to close my eyes. Right here in my room, i can see that tree, feel that bench, remember the pain. Tell me it means something, because it was supposed to be The Turning Point for me. But it was never meant to be.

2005-02-22T09:30:00.000-08:00

pick up the pieces. see the silver lining. two sides to a coin. theres silver on either side. make visible what is unseen. put the brush to paper, and paint me a portrait of joy. paint me a picture of calm. overwhelm me with love. saturate me with peace. overcome me with bliss. please. peace.

2005-02-22T09:00:00.000-08:00

I can't decide which is the braver thing to do - to continue fighting and hope that by some stroke of luck or by God's grace, I somehow do it on my own; or to crumble and admit that I am overwhelmed. So here's taking the middleroad, and allowing me some room to collapse on, some allowance for tears to shed.

How long more, girl, will you hold on? How much more immorality will you excuse? How much more time, before you can't even recognise yourself. Overfraught with - dare i say it - disgust for yourself. Sin shows itself. Look into the mirror, and see everyday's crime surfacing in those lips, the eyes, the complexion, the cheekbones. It's only a matter of time. It's me against time. I will lose.

So much for scholarships and admissions. Those disputes, will all come to naught. Nothing but big talk. If you can't get your act together.

Do you want to be a poet and write?

I want to travel the world. I want to want to change. It scares me, these thoughts about escaping, about getting away from this *. I want to cry, i want someone to hold me, and tell me everything will be alright. Nothing soothes me more, than hearing this over and over again. Everything will be alright. It's gonna work out. Nothing gets me through the rough like these comforts. So simple. So confident in its simplicity.

How girl, you wouldn't even take the first step! Tomorrow, 8pm. Make it. Make it. Make it there. And please, give me a sign, anything, tell me it's alright. That it's all going to be fine. Tell me you love me still, that you can forgive me, that I can bare all that is hidden, that you will still care, that you wouldnt look at me with scorn, that you wouldnt loathe me, that you wouldnt hate me, that I'm still the same in your eyes, that I can still be the one. Because I can't see myself the same way anymore. I've fallen ranks, and it takes so much out of me now.

2005-02-13T18:47:00.000-08:00

For what it's worth, my rendition of a valentine's day tribute.

Me—a romantic sod at heart? Silly heart, why do you dance at the mere thought of receiving a rose. Why get excited like a giggly schoolgirl daydreaming about getting serenaded. Why still indulge in those comic-book thought balloons—your face lighted only by the candle, my hand nestled warmly under yours, the air kissing my left cheek, your lips caressing my right. You smell as familiar as that heap of warm laundry, that baby powder from childhood days. Will this be? I join the dots in my thought balloons, and yes, it is your face I am dreaming of.

It's time like these. When the radio plays the tunes which send memories ebbing. When I read Jeanette Winterson rewriting Launcelot and Guinevere. Darn, even when I click the Empty Trash button. That I start facing metaphysical crises of the most contrived sort—why isn't there an 'empty trash' button in my life? Why can't everything I wish to forget be megically erased. Kapoof. Deleted. I could try to CTRL my memories, make them selective, choose ALT thoughts to replace these, but they just cant be DEL.

Love.

I wrote two paragraphs without even using the word—some kinda of tribute. Love begins with an ugly face: it makes you selfish, then it refines you, and will be the best thing that has happened to you. Do I know love?

I want to say I do. I want to think I do. Because that is all that matters. Because my dear, what a magical feeling it must be, to confidently boast of having the world's most beautiful woman in your arms, of being the most blessed man you know, of knowing what love really is. Even if your lover is a frumpy, overweight clerk, and you have just lost your job. That doesnt matter one iota.

The flower of my armoury--writes C.S.Lewis. Wouldnt you just die to hear that.

2005-02-11T18:38:00.000-08:00

What kind of lousy friend am i? So taking X and Y, and compare how i treat the two of them. X i have known for ages, and Y is a fairly new acquaintance. I know that politeness is a matter of formality, something you exhibit when you are not familiar with the person as yet. And yet, deep down i know that i should be treating X better than Y, simply because we are closer friends.

But this is hardly the case. I get irritated with X a little too often for my comfort, because it just seems like all X cares about is herself. Honestly. We could be chatting, and be on totally different tracks. She'll trail on incessantly about herself, and somehow change every topic to something about HER. I mean, cmon! Could you find a better epitome of narcissistic?!

Granted, while chatting with Y and talking about narcissists, we kinda agreed that there is one in every person. But i think there is a line to be crossed--you DO NOT turn every topic to being about you. Sometimes it helps if people just listen. And not drag their own problems in.

Y was someone i never thought i'd relate to. Somehow i do. Well, and for some warped reason, i don't feel that animosity i have with X. It is almost like, shes a good person. In spite of everything, and i can sense that she genuinely could not care less about the things she claims she could not care less about. Yes, there is genuinity there.

Whatever.

2005-01-29T07:03:00.000-08:00

It's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst, and then I remember to relax and stop trying to hold on to it and it flows through me like rain and I can feel nothing but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid, little life. You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure, but don't worry. You will someday."

Lester Burnham from American Beauty

Beauty is a frill though. I never thought I'd say this but Love Is All You Need.

Truly, no earth-shattering event took place, no one had just enveloped me in an embrace, and no, i did not just receive a romantic declaration that swept me off my feet--I simply saw this quote, i thought about it. And suddenly the air seems electrified, sending goose pimples rippling on my skin. Then i concluded--you could have the cushiest job, the trendiest clothes, but you could not be happier than someone who believes in love, lives it breathes it, and is so secure in its entirety, its beauty, its unabashed confidence.

It's a drug and a cure, an amphetamine and a sedative, with the regularity of a waltz, the energy of a salsa, and the charm of both. Overwhelm me, please.

Medicine, law, business, engineering... these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love... these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, 'O me! O life!...of the questions of these recurring, of the endless trains of the faithless...of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here...that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.' That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.What will your verse be?

John Keating, Dead Poets Society

I may contribute a verse to this phenomenon of a powerful play. Yes I may. What will i say? What will i ask?

I'll ask why. Why is it only when man is feeling clawed at from within, when he is so close to tears, when the wounds are so sensitive that the slightest breath would tear open the skin, that he can produce the finest pieces of writing? Is contentment, happiness, bliss not worth putting brush to paper?

Words, words, words. Once, I had the gift---I could make love out of words--as a potter makes cups out of clay---love that overthrows empires, love that binds two hearts together come hellfire and brimstone. I could cause a riot in a nunnery...but now...I have lost my gift. It's as if my quill is broken. As if the organ of the imagination has dried up. As if the proud tower of my genius has collapsed. Nothing comes.

Will Shakespeare, Shakespeare in Love