I'm very much in love, and it's been this way for the past year. I was lucky enough to finally get together with a very special person, who's brought so much to my life and asked for so little in return.
We share walks in the park, plenty of laughs, lots of competitions, and all the chores. We enjoy the simple things in life, like holding hands, cooking together, holding each other, and although I'm perfectly content just being with him, he'll go out of the way to bring me flowers, to take me out to dinner, and surprise me with gifts. He's the only guy I've met who understands that it really is the little things that count - and actually does them, like how he'll make sure I'm warm enough to go out in the cold, how he helps me study, how he'll always try to pick me up from the airport or bus station, or tidy up my room.
I was thinking of saving this until our anniversary next Saturday, but I decided that you don't need a specific day to tell someone how much you love them, so I'd like to thank you, darling, for making my life so much sweeter by just being in it.
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Fears
Like I said before, I'm really scared, of a lot of things. My sister takes a perverse joy in messing with my fears.
I'm scared of open water: when I can't see into the gloom - like when you're in the sea. I have nightmares about sharks and crocodiles cruising out of the murkiness with mouths agape. The same fear grips me in a swimming pool. I'd feel safer if I had 360 vision. I'm also scared of drowning.
I'm scared of dolls: It wasn't started by Child's Play, but definitely compounded by that awful awful movie. I frequently have dreams about being locked in a department store where the mannequins come alive and go crazy.
I'm scared of being buried alive: you know that medical condition that people have where they're pronounced dead, but come back to life a few hours later? What do you do if you wake up to find that you're six feet under already?
I think what I'm mostly scared of is my imagination. I just shouldn't be allowed to think.
I'm scared of open water: when I can't see into the gloom - like when you're in the sea. I have nightmares about sharks and crocodiles cruising out of the murkiness with mouths agape. The same fear grips me in a swimming pool. I'd feel safer if I had 360 vision. I'm also scared of drowning.
I'm scared of dolls: It wasn't started by Child's Play, but definitely compounded by that awful awful movie. I frequently have dreams about being locked in a department store where the mannequins come alive and go crazy.
I'm scared of being buried alive: you know that medical condition that people have where they're pronounced dead, but come back to life a few hours later? What do you do if you wake up to find that you're six feet under already?
I think what I'm mostly scared of is my imagination. I just shouldn't be allowed to think.
Laugh properly dammit
The one thing I cannot stand more than "chill" and its hybrid "chillax" is "hehe". "Hehe" is an extremely popular laugh online, but I can never figure out if it's a "heehee" or a "heh-heh" in which case, I usually think of it as the latter, and it comes across really perverted. If you want to laugh, use "haha", "lol", "roflol", or even "roflmao". "Hehe" conjures up mental images of dirty old men. So don't "hehe" at me k, or I'll never talk to you again.
Big. More. Better.
I don't know if bigger means better in the computing world, I'm extremely tech-illiterate, but I've been moved to a bigger computer in the promise that it won't crash on me. The screen's massive, the CPU even massive-r, and it sounds like it's about to take off whenever I run anything, just like all the other terminals in this department. Pretty obvious that Design Engineering consists solely of men - boys and their toys eh?
Monday, August 30, 2004
One sense
I'm always amazed by how evocative smells and sounds can be. Anything from a whiff of perfume to the comforting aroma of newly baked bread, brings back powerful memories. The subtlest of scents can bring tears to my eyes for a painful love or a smile to my face thinking of another.
Today was the barest traces of cologne that stayed in the wake of a hurrying colleague, reminding me of the hours I spent crying over an ex-boyfriend, trying to dispel the sense of rejection. In that short breath, I could see his face and feel the pain as if it wasn't two years ago.
Walking back, a hint of incense, carried on the light evening breeze from the hundreds of joss sticks burning for returning spirits, whisked me back to my grandfather's funeral, to the gravity and sorrow of the ceremony, and the very first significant loss I felt.
Then it was the sharp tang of chlorine from the nearby swimming pool that dragged me back into the humid nights spent training with other aspiring swimmers, finishing lap after lap, pull after pull in an endless chase to fly faster.
Today it felt like I was living in the past with a day taken from the future.
Today was the barest traces of cologne that stayed in the wake of a hurrying colleague, reminding me of the hours I spent crying over an ex-boyfriend, trying to dispel the sense of rejection. In that short breath, I could see his face and feel the pain as if it wasn't two years ago.
Walking back, a hint of incense, carried on the light evening breeze from the hundreds of joss sticks burning for returning spirits, whisked me back to my grandfather's funeral, to the gravity and sorrow of the ceremony, and the very first significant loss I felt.
Then it was the sharp tang of chlorine from the nearby swimming pool that dragged me back into the humid nights spent training with other aspiring swimmers, finishing lap after lap, pull after pull in an endless chase to fly faster.
Today it felt like I was living in the past with a day taken from the future.
Almost over
I've given in to the overwhelming sense of depression and homesickness. I asked to end my internship a week early, which means I should be home by Saturday. I think it was because I went home last weekend and saw what I was missing that made me want to be at home even more. I decided that I spend enough time away from home during the academic year, so I'm going to take what precious time I have left and spend it with my family.
To be honest, I'd have to say that I really did enjoy the work experience. Everyone was more than accommodating and professional - a real inspiration in the work place, and though it was short, I did learn a few things during my five weeks:
1. The people you work with are the ones you see the most of, so it pays to be nice to them.
2. Flirting is a very powerful weapon (as was observed).
3. Solidworks makes normal desktops crash - like a lot.
4. It's not a good idea to eat tuna every day.
5. No one really functions at 7.30am, they just pretend til about 8.00am.
6. Everyone's life revolves around the bell - start work, break, lunch, break, end work.
7. It's not a good idea to stare at the computer for nine hours, your eyeballs try to run into the back of your head.
8. Don't play minesweeper with Weng. He's too lucky.
To be honest, I'd have to say that I really did enjoy the work experience. Everyone was more than accommodating and professional - a real inspiration in the work place, and though it was short, I did learn a few things during my five weeks:
1. The people you work with are the ones you see the most of, so it pays to be nice to them.
2. Flirting is a very powerful weapon (as was observed).
3. Solidworks makes normal desktops crash - like a lot.
4. It's not a good idea to eat tuna every day.
5. No one really functions at 7.30am, they just pretend til about 8.00am.
6. Everyone's life revolves around the bell - start work, break, lunch, break, end work.
7. It's not a good idea to stare at the computer for nine hours, your eyeballs try to run into the back of your head.
8. Don't play minesweeper with Weng. He's too lucky.
Monday gripes
Do you know how irritating it is whenever you're on a long journey, whether it's half an hour or 13 hours, and you think of grabbing a nap, but you can never settle until it's the last hour or the last three turns, by which time you've just barely hit the 'sleep zone' and it's time to move again?
My contacts are drier than a camel's ars...backside and my eyelids feel like lead. Liverpool lost last night, to Bolton of all teams - why can't they ever get it right? I didn't watch it, butI bet it was because of the refereeing, it's always because of the refereeing.
Other weekend sport consisted mainly of +surprise+ the Olympics. My dad's usually quite quiet, happy to sit there and just watch their SIX CHANNELS (that's bloody unfair, I tell you) of LIVE Olympic coverage, but he had a lot to say yesterday:
"Rhythmic gymnastics is not an Olympic sport, and neither is sychronised swimming. They might as well introduce jazz, ballet, and cheerleading. You watch, by the Beijing Olympics, cheerleading'll be an Olympic sport."
Frankly, I wouldn't see many guys protesting at that inclusion - they'd probably get seven channels and devote one entirely to the cheerleading prelims and finals. I think they should get rid of the equestrian event (horses aren't real), Greco-roman wrestling (far too much action there), and the throwing events (since they're going to throw the whole bunch of them out on doping charges anyway - you just don't get that big on training only).
And can someone clear something up for me? Apparently this is the first year that the OIC are formally recognising transsexual athletes. What does this imply? "And next, we have the women's 1500m, the men's 200m, and the transsexual shotput"? (I swear that the female throwers have more facial hair than their male counterparts.) It's not that I'm against people who feel trapped in the body of the wrong sex, it's just that isn't it a little unfair on like...oh wait, what am I saying, they're all drugged up anyway. No difference there.
My contacts are drier than a camel's ars...backside and my eyelids feel like lead. Liverpool lost last night, to Bolton of all teams - why can't they ever get it right? I didn't watch it, butI bet it was because of the refereeing, it's always because of the refereeing.
Other weekend sport consisted mainly of +surprise+ the Olympics. My dad's usually quite quiet, happy to sit there and just watch their SIX CHANNELS (that's bloody unfair, I tell you) of LIVE Olympic coverage, but he had a lot to say yesterday:
"Rhythmic gymnastics is not an Olympic sport, and neither is sychronised swimming. They might as well introduce jazz, ballet, and cheerleading. You watch, by the Beijing Olympics, cheerleading'll be an Olympic sport."
Frankly, I wouldn't see many guys protesting at that inclusion - they'd probably get seven channels and devote one entirely to the cheerleading prelims and finals. I think they should get rid of the equestrian event (horses aren't real), Greco-roman wrestling (far too much action there), and the throwing events (since they're going to throw the whole bunch of them out on doping charges anyway - you just don't get that big on training only).
And can someone clear something up for me? Apparently this is the first year that the OIC are formally recognising transsexual athletes. What does this imply? "And next, we have the women's 1500m, the men's 200m, and the transsexual shotput"? (I swear that the female throwers have more facial hair than their male counterparts.) It's not that I'm against people who feel trapped in the body of the wrong sex, it's just that isn't it a little unfair on like...oh wait, what am I saying, they're all drugged up anyway. No difference there.
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Saturday, August 28, 2004
Home
It feels so good to be home. Nothing could spoil today and nothing did. I was so happy being with my family and friends again, among familiar faces, sights, and sounds. I don't really want to go back tomorrow, but I know that I have to stick it out in Singapore for another two weeks. Saturday has flown by so fast.
It started with walking the dog and having breakfast with my mum. A bit of grocery shopping, two hours for a facial appointment, and it was lunch with my friends. I've never been happier seeing my sweetheart for the first time in two weeks (it's a long time for us). As for the rest of my friends, they looked good, if a bit tired from all of the hard partying. For a few of them, it was the last time I'd see them this summer, so I'm glad I got the chance. An afternoon of pool and Texas hold up brought a lot of laughs and relaxation, I was feeling so perfectly comfortable and content for the first time in a month.
Dinner was wonderfully regular, and after an attempt to shop in an overheated mall, I quickly gave up and returned to the airconditioned haven of my living room to watch Man Utd score an unfair equaliser against the valiant Blackburn side.
The Saturday felt so 'normal', so good that I didn't have to deal with new situations or people. Some people would ask why I'd spend four and a half hours each way on a bus just to have a day at home, but it was well worth it. You suddenly realise how tiring it is being on your best behavior or at your most alert when you have a whole range of appointments and social obligations to fulfill, and I really needed to just hang out and take it easy this weekend, and be somewhere where I could completely be myself. I'm so happy I came home.
It started with walking the dog and having breakfast with my mum. A bit of grocery shopping, two hours for a facial appointment, and it was lunch with my friends. I've never been happier seeing my sweetheart for the first time in two weeks (it's a long time for us). As for the rest of my friends, they looked good, if a bit tired from all of the hard partying. For a few of them, it was the last time I'd see them this summer, so I'm glad I got the chance. An afternoon of pool and Texas hold up brought a lot of laughs and relaxation, I was feeling so perfectly comfortable and content for the first time in a month.
Dinner was wonderfully regular, and after an attempt to shop in an overheated mall, I quickly gave up and returned to the airconditioned haven of my living room to watch Man Utd score an unfair equaliser against the valiant Blackburn side.
The Saturday felt so 'normal', so good that I didn't have to deal with new situations or people. Some people would ask why I'd spend four and a half hours each way on a bus just to have a day at home, but it was well worth it. You suddenly realise how tiring it is being on your best behavior or at your most alert when you have a whole range of appointments and social obligations to fulfill, and I really needed to just hang out and take it easy this weekend, and be somewhere where I could completely be myself. I'm so happy I came home.
Friday, August 27, 2004
TMI
Sometimes I think we're too well informed. We count every calorie and measure every heartbeat. We're like ants in an anthill and the floodwaters of mortality are rising fast. Or maybe we're just too impressionable. I'd admit to that.
I recently read that if you spend hours slumped infront of the t.v. or computer screen, your lower back muscles and pelvic-supporting muscles will waste away, and that even if you exercise, you can't build them up again, leaving you prone to lower back pains and slipped discs. Then, having spent the last four weeks doing nothing but slouch in front of a computer for nine hours a day, five days a week, I started to worry and spent the rest of the day trying very hard to sit up straight without using the backrest of the chair as support. Sorry, did I say rest of the day? I meant rest of the week. Not only am I fidgety and exhausted, but I'm starting to think that I'm doomed to spend the rest of my life like this, all because of too much information.
I recently read that if you spend hours slumped infront of the t.v. or computer screen, your lower back muscles and pelvic-supporting muscles will waste away, and that even if you exercise, you can't build them up again, leaving you prone to lower back pains and slipped discs. Then, having spent the last four weeks doing nothing but slouch in front of a computer for nine hours a day, five days a week, I started to worry and spent the rest of the day trying very hard to sit up straight without using the backrest of the chair as support. Sorry, did I say rest of the day? I meant rest of the week. Not only am I fidgety and exhausted, but I'm starting to think that I'm doomed to spend the rest of my life like this, all because of too much information.
Homeward bound
It's been a while since I've woken up looking so forward to work, the first time in weeks that I haven't cussed my alarm or stumbled to the bathroom in a fog of confusion. I'm totally psyched, I've been totally psyched since 5.40am when I bolted out of bed already high on adrenaline only to find that it wasn't time to get up yet. False start! But that's okay, coz I'M GOING HOME TODAY! Only for the weekend, but a little time's better than none. Woot!
Thursday, August 26, 2004
Oh shock, oh horror, it's raining.
Kuala Lumpur never ceases to amaze me. The city planners could not have possibly got it more wrong. For a country that rains torrentially for three quarters of the year, they have an unbelieveably bad drainage system and telecommunication services that get wiped out by the slightest shower. Think of the millions of dollars that are lost during each rainstorm, stranding hundreds of motorists (which also brings me to the point that there shouldnt BE so many cars) and cutting out thousands of phone calls, internet lines, and even electricity. Should we ever hit the next big freeze, this is one place I definitely wouldn't want to be - they can't even cope with the local weather!
Don't break a nail
I'm a girl and I do mechanical engineering and suddenly the laws of physics no longer apply and monkeys rule the world.
Whenever people ask me what course I'm doing, my answer is usually followed by a derisive snort and a 'but why?'. You have no idea how tired I am of hearing that question and that reaction to my reply. If a guy does mechanical engineering, he gets an approving nod and a 'that's a solid course to take', if you're a girl, they look at you as if you're imbecilic to even consider it. And I thought that society had progressed somewhat.
The reason I do mechanical engineering is because it is an awesome course, it's challenging, fulfilling, and I didn't like chemistry anyways. It must be genetic, my dad's an engineer and most of my cousins are engineers too. It's a professional degree and employers tend to like hiring engineers for their 'logical thinking capabilities'. So there, and girls do just as well as guys, and the whole course isn't about cars. At all.
Whenever people ask me what course I'm doing, my answer is usually followed by a derisive snort and a 'but why?'. You have no idea how tired I am of hearing that question and that reaction to my reply. If a guy does mechanical engineering, he gets an approving nod and a 'that's a solid course to take', if you're a girl, they look at you as if you're imbecilic to even consider it. And I thought that society had progressed somewhat.
The reason I do mechanical engineering is because it is an awesome course, it's challenging, fulfilling, and I didn't like chemistry anyways. It must be genetic, my dad's an engineer and most of my cousins are engineers too. It's a professional degree and employers tend to like hiring engineers for their 'logical thinking capabilities'. So there, and girls do just as well as guys, and the whole course isn't about cars. At all.
Summer timed out
When I'm bored, I have the attention span of a blowfly and about two hundred things flit through my head all at the same time (or maybe blowflies don't think). It's not so much a train of thought as a knitter's nightmare of finding out that the cat's got into the wool again and invited all of its feline friends to play as well.
Anyhow, blogging has helped me practice to stay with one coherent thought long enough to trap it in writing. Here's my latest:
Summer's over, or virtually over, and all my friends will start straggling back to the UK in ones and twos by next week. I can't figure out how it passed so quickly. The three and a half months had so much potential, which subsequently got squished by clashing schedules and family plans.
This was what was supposed to happen over summer:
1. Redang trip. It got mashed in the gears of everyone's busy lives.
2. Sleepovers. Running total: nil.
3. Karaokes. One.
4. Lots of sport. HAHAHAhahahaa....
5. Lots of eating. Oh, here's one we managed to do.
6. Staying up late. Yeah right.
7. Penang trip. There's still hope of pulling something off before the final buzzer.
8. Dancing lessons. Didn't materialise.
9. Swimming. Only happened by force due to consequences of item 5.
10. Scubadiving/snorkelling. Wasn't motivated enough - maybe next summer.
11. Jungle trekking. Refer to item 10.
12. Shopping. Happened -ish
This is what really happened:
1. Bummed out
2. Work/attachment/internship
3. MSN Minesweeper
4. Eating
5. Sorta shopping - we certainly spent enough aimless time at the mall.
I think I'm exhausted by the sheer inactivity. Oh goody, it's Kitkat time.
Anyhow, blogging has helped me practice to stay with one coherent thought long enough to trap it in writing. Here's my latest:
Summer's over, or virtually over, and all my friends will start straggling back to the UK in ones and twos by next week. I can't figure out how it passed so quickly. The three and a half months had so much potential, which subsequently got squished by clashing schedules and family plans.
This was what was supposed to happen over summer:
1. Redang trip. It got mashed in the gears of everyone's busy lives.
2. Sleepovers. Running total: nil.
3. Karaokes. One.
4. Lots of sport. HAHAHAhahahaa....
5. Lots of eating. Oh, here's one we managed to do.
6. Staying up late. Yeah right.
7. Penang trip. There's still hope of pulling something off before the final buzzer.
8. Dancing lessons. Didn't materialise.
9. Swimming. Only happened by force due to consequences of item 5.
10. Scubadiving/snorkelling. Wasn't motivated enough - maybe next summer.
11. Jungle trekking. Refer to item 10.
12. Shopping. Happened -ish
This is what really happened:
1. Bummed out
2. Work/attachment/internship
3. MSN Minesweeper
4. Eating
5. Sorta shopping - we certainly spent enough aimless time at the mall.
I think I'm exhausted by the sheer inactivity. Oh goody, it's Kitkat time.
Fut-bol
Arsenal have just stretched their unbeaten record to 43 games. It's unbelievable, they truly are in a class of their own, yet they fail to make any sort of real impact on the merchandising market. In terms of endorsements, their stars are no where in the calibre of the Man Utd players (and explayers) who are like fifty times worse but thirty times richer. This is a rather unusual case of a football team having the skill but not the marketshare, unlike Real, who seem to have both. In terms of brand image, Man Utd leads the pack, but then again, it's really all they have left.
Arsenal is like the Michael Schumacher of the EPL, I guess they win so much that people start to ignore them. The rat race way down below is far more interesting, with Chelsea struggling to make a decent impression with their squad of superstars, Liverpool trying to drop the title of hasbeens, and Newcastle praying hard that Shearer never retires. Man Utd seem to have bedded Lady Fate, because everyone knows that they belong in the first division, and that the only decent player is Howard, who works hard in goal while his arthiritic teammates rotate faster than a merry-go-round.
To be fair though, I've been very disappointed with Liverpool and their lacklustre performances (Graz who?). They were showing so much potential two seasons ago, and now, with a new manager who promises much, delivers little, and then blames the team, I'm sure things can only get better.
My winners for the EPL this year?
Arsenal - by a mile, they're invincible.
Liverpool - I think they'll eventually come through (I had to put them somewhere otherwise Tish'd brand me a turncoat!).
Chelsea in third - money can't buy you the title, and neither can any kind of Russian mafia influence (I'm not so sure though, every chairperson has his price).
Newcastle will take the last Champion's League berth - they've been steady and with Shearer at the helm, anything's possible.
Man Utd will have to fight for fifth with the likes of Aston Villa, Southampton, and Blackburn for fifth.
Arsenal is like the Michael Schumacher of the EPL, I guess they win so much that people start to ignore them. The rat race way down below is far more interesting, with Chelsea struggling to make a decent impression with their squad of superstars, Liverpool trying to drop the title of hasbeens, and Newcastle praying hard that Shearer never retires. Man Utd seem to have bedded Lady Fate, because everyone knows that they belong in the first division, and that the only decent player is Howard, who works hard in goal while his arthiritic teammates rotate faster than a merry-go-round.
To be fair though, I've been very disappointed with Liverpool and their lacklustre performances (Graz who?). They were showing so much potential two seasons ago, and now, with a new manager who promises much, delivers little, and then blames the team, I'm sure things can only get better.
My winners for the EPL this year?
Arsenal - by a mile, they're invincible.
Liverpool - I think they'll eventually come through (I had to put them somewhere otherwise Tish'd brand me a turncoat!).
Chelsea in third - money can't buy you the title, and neither can any kind of Russian mafia influence (I'm not so sure though, every chairperson has his price).
Newcastle will take the last Champion's League berth - they've been steady and with Shearer at the helm, anything's possible.
Man Utd will have to fight for fifth with the likes of Aston Villa, Southampton, and Blackburn for fifth.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
To be Singkaporlean
The udder day ah, insai nuspaper ah, the gahmen wan we aw young young peepuh sen SMS to tewl the gahmen wat we tink of today's Singkaporh. Dey ohso say ah, dey wan duh young peepuh to have a more active lole in running ower country. Sui sui ah, awl the young peepuh wan Singlis to be mate into ower national langwage an to be recon-niced as an offcial langwage. Dey say ah, it hewlp us be more unitet as Sinkaporleans. Dey ohso say wan hor, dat mediacock the ladio deejays, really beh tahan, becock dey suppo to be sinkaporlean, but dey ohso never tock like sinkaporleans, dia accents damn fake wan. I oh-so donch know lah, as long as everywan understands each udder, oh-so can lite?
Back to basics
Romance novels - literary digests filled with nothing but bittersweet love triangles, unrequited love, infatuation, and lust, sell so well because people like to feel emotion. We'll cry our eyes out when the fictional heroine has to choose between the dark handsome stranger or her blonde blue-eyed sweetheart, ache with anguish when she chooses wrongly, and rejoice when she eventually sees the light. They mirror such basic, primeval emotions that we'll never grow tired of experiencing them over and over again.
I'm no exception, I've read all of J. Auel's "Earth's Children" series, but I keep coming back to no. 3, The Mammoth Hunters, which is essentially a love triangle set against a people's survival in a prehistoric era. Each time, the empathy for the characters grows, and you start to tear whether you like it or not. Guys'll go "Why suffer like that?", and to be honest, I don't know either, but excuse me while I dry my eyes. +sniff+
I'm no exception, I've read all of J. Auel's "Earth's Children" series, but I keep coming back to no. 3, The Mammoth Hunters, which is essentially a love triangle set against a people's survival in a prehistoric era. Each time, the empathy for the characters grows, and you start to tear whether you like it or not. Guys'll go "Why suffer like that?", and to be honest, I don't know either, but excuse me while I dry my eyes. +sniff+
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Urban development
As the new milleniumium moves through its fourth year, gender roles continue to change, and with that, we celebrate the arrival of the metromale. They go for facials, spend hundreds of dollars on grooming products, and have clothes bills that rival their girlfriends’ and mothers’.
They’ll quite happily sit down and talk about the latest movies, hair colours, fashion trends, and skin treatments. There are even times where my girlfriends and I are completely swamped by the amount of stuff they know about this season’s colours and brands. Other times, they’re reluctant to let us near their perfectly shaped coifs even though they’re badly in need of a haircut.
These guys love shopping with their mums or are quite happy to burn out their credit cards with massive buys. I know several who can easily rate their wardrobe at six or seven times the value of mine. They have a different jacket for everyday, a pair of shoes for every colour combo and sport, and spend twice as long in the bathroom.
Name: Metromale (Urbanus hominis)
Primary classification: Homosapiens
Habitat: Large urban areas with high concentration of branded clothes stores
Diet: Omnivorous
Description: Of the male persuasion, well groomed, and dressed in the latest trends
Conservation status: Common
Major threats: Irate girlfriends and credit-card bills
They’ll quite happily sit down and talk about the latest movies, hair colours, fashion trends, and skin treatments. There are even times where my girlfriends and I are completely swamped by the amount of stuff they know about this season’s colours and brands. Other times, they’re reluctant to let us near their perfectly shaped coifs even though they’re badly in need of a haircut.
These guys love shopping with their mums or are quite happy to burn out their credit cards with massive buys. I know several who can easily rate their wardrobe at six or seven times the value of mine. They have a different jacket for everyday, a pair of shoes for every colour combo and sport, and spend twice as long in the bathroom.
Name: Metromale (Urbanus hominis)
Primary classification: Homosapiens
Habitat: Large urban areas with high concentration of branded clothes stores
Diet: Omnivorous
Description: Of the male persuasion, well groomed, and dressed in the latest trends
Conservation status: Common
Major threats: Irate girlfriends and credit-card bills
Of girl things
My boyfriend recently asked why Singaporean guys are called up to serve and do so much for their country while the girls aren’t under any similar obligation. I really wasn’t sure where his indignation was coming from because he’s Malaysian and he missed the age bracket for their newly implemented national service by two years, but I fully support the Singapore NS. It makes boys into men and brings them one tiny step closer to the amount that girls have to suffer through their whole lives.
It’s not that women don’t do anything; most people just miss out on the bigger picture. I’d like to see guys deal with the (severe) inconvenience of the menstrual cycle for a good third of their lives. I’d like to see them pass an egg out of a nostril. I’d like to see them manage their hormone cycles half the time and spend the other half apologising for it. Then I'd like to see them sweep all that pain under the mat and act like it never happens, wear three inch heels to work everyday looking absolutely perfect, then come home and have enough energy to clean up after everybody and attend to all kinds of demands. That is what we do for the country, we’re busy being women.
It’s not that women don’t do anything; most people just miss out on the bigger picture. I’d like to see guys deal with the (severe) inconvenience of the menstrual cycle for a good third of their lives. I’d like to see them pass an egg out of a nostril. I’d like to see them manage their hormone cycles half the time and spend the other half apologising for it. Then I'd like to see them sweep all that pain under the mat and act like it never happens, wear three inch heels to work everyday looking absolutely perfect, then come home and have enough energy to clean up after everybody and attend to all kinds of demands. That is what we do for the country, we’re busy being women.
Lunch
I’ve got a serious craving for pasta, topped off with a piece of banana chocolate cake from Secret Recipe; or a pizza Napolitano finished with warm chocolate mud cake, vanilla ice cream, and strawberry compote. *Sigh. Otherwise, maybe just some KFC or Section 17 char kway teow, or grilled stingray while I’m at it…One can only dream, coz it’s just a ham sandwich, a Kit Kat bar, and a half hour today, just like every other day.
Five more minutes...
The alarm went off and I was jolted uncompromisingly out of the warm blanket of sleep. It was 6.00am, and my body wouldn't respond, so I thought 'maybe five more minutes' and relaxed again. Five seconds later, I thought I heard someone scream and again my eyes snapped open. I made a grab for my phone and squinted against the harsh backlight: 6.20am. I've never moved so fast in my life with ten minutes to get out of the house.
I don't remember getting ready though or walking to the bus-stop, only that I was distantly stressed out. It's 7.10am now and my consciousness is finally coming around although my eyes are involuntarily closing. Bad for the system I think, all this early morning excitement, and where the hell did I lose those twenty minutes?
I don't remember getting ready though or walking to the bus-stop, only that I was distantly stressed out. It's 7.10am now and my consciousness is finally coming around although my eyes are involuntarily closing. Bad for the system I think, all this early morning excitement, and where the hell did I lose those twenty minutes?
Monday, August 23, 2004
Olympic heartbreak
Singapore is still reeling from Jia Wei's gutwrenching semifinal exit, but it only goes to show how important the strength of an athlete's psyche is. So many of them coast effortlessly into the last eight or last four and suddenly their profile rockets and the pressure mounts.
So what can they do? Be like the Americans and Australians and train in high-security complexes with teams of nutritionists, physiotherapists, and coaches? Or do as the Korean's do and train in a noisy stadium full of football fans? Essentially it's what makes the difference between a round 2 flop and a world champion. The ability to dig deep is what makes sports great, and that's why people remember epic comebacks and even more legendary sports heroes. Falling at the last hurdle is heartbreaking, but it just goes to show that they don't have what it takes. Talent is only limited by belief, and Nike's latest campaign says it all, 'You're faster than you think'.
So what can they do? Be like the Americans and Australians and train in high-security complexes with teams of nutritionists, physiotherapists, and coaches? Or do as the Korean's do and train in a noisy stadium full of football fans? Essentially it's what makes the difference between a round 2 flop and a world champion. The ability to dig deep is what makes sports great, and that's why people remember epic comebacks and even more legendary sports heroes. Falling at the last hurdle is heartbreaking, but it just goes to show that they don't have what it takes. Talent is only limited by belief, and Nike's latest campaign says it all, 'You're faster than you think'.
Sandman
Sunday morning. It was apparent that sleep was finally catching up to us as Sojourn 04 wound down, as seen by amount of hysterical laughter over the subject of eye shit and its posher British autonym 'sleep dust' over breakfast at McDonald's. Unfortunately no one offered any other native references to that which is known here as eye shit other than strange looks when asked.
I think I'm still tired.
I think I'm still tired.
Sojourn Day 2
We were up again at 8.30am after finally getting to sleep at about three the night before. Breakfast was a slow fumbling affair where everyone looked less than awake and coffee was in high demand. Beach games followed after that with the day promising to be a scorcher.
It was Team Vodka against Dom, XO, and Bloody Mary - the camp had an alcoholic swing to it; ironically there was none, quite unlike last year where everyone got more than a little happy. Minesweeper was quickly followed by Guess the Celebrity, Fruit of Life, and 100 seconds. They were briefly interrupted by a messy jam war, but justice was swift, and the instigators were jammed, stripped, and thrown into the sea. I suppose the dunking was welcome though, because the jam was definitely 'going places'. Lunch was soon after, and the day had hit smelting temperatures.
The Amazing Race started at about 2.30pm, and the teams were split into a further eight. Check points were located all over the island where we had to solve puzzles and search for clues. The locations were randomly selected each time, and Vodka A proved to be slightly more fortunate than our B team. As part of A, we scooted around the island in a more or less anticlockwise direction, beating one of the teams to a checkpoint by hitchhiking on a lorry. Vodka B had to crisscross Sentosa several times, but managed to commandeer a senior and his vehicle half way through the race. Two and a half hours later, brain-drained and weary, both halves of Team Vodka finished 2nd and 3rd, pushing us into first place overall. Go Vodka!
The closing barbecue was followed by sharing the spoils of the contest amidst much Polar Bear hilarity and a surprisingly early night.
It was Team Vodka against Dom, XO, and Bloody Mary - the camp had an alcoholic swing to it; ironically there was none, quite unlike last year where everyone got more than a little happy. Minesweeper was quickly followed by Guess the Celebrity, Fruit of Life, and 100 seconds. They were briefly interrupted by a messy jam war, but justice was swift, and the instigators were jammed, stripped, and thrown into the sea. I suppose the dunking was welcome though, because the jam was definitely 'going places'. Lunch was soon after, and the day had hit smelting temperatures.
The Amazing Race started at about 2.30pm, and the teams were split into a further eight. Check points were located all over the island where we had to solve puzzles and search for clues. The locations were randomly selected each time, and Vodka A proved to be slightly more fortunate than our B team. As part of A, we scooted around the island in a more or less anticlockwise direction, beating one of the teams to a checkpoint by hitchhiking on a lorry. Vodka B had to crisscross Sentosa several times, but managed to commandeer a senior and his vehicle half way through the race. Two and a half hours later, brain-drained and weary, both halves of Team Vodka finished 2nd and 3rd, pushing us into first place overall. Go Vodka!
The closing barbecue was followed by sharing the spoils of the contest amidst much Polar Bear hilarity and a surprisingly early night.
Five weeks
Talking to the freshmen over the weekend brought me back to this time last year - the feeling of excitement and anticipation. It felt good being able to answer their questions which made realise how much I'm looking forward to going back. I know it'll be a lot more work but each year brings new faces and new challenges, and while I can't wait to get back on the dance floor at IC, I also can't wait to see what Mech Eng yr 2 has in store for me.
There'll be many firsts this year - looking for a house, spending Christmas in London, being away from home for so long; and many more will be familiar - my coursemates, my friends, the dance team. I know I'll miss home so much and I know it'll kick in at the randomest times through the six months that I'll be away, but I'm sure it'll all be okay. Yep, I think I'm ready.
There'll be many firsts this year - looking for a house, spending Christmas in London, being away from home for so long; and many more will be familiar - my coursemates, my friends, the dance team. I know I'll miss home so much and I know it'll kick in at the randomest times through the six months that I'll be away, but I'm sure it'll all be okay. Yep, I think I'm ready.
Sojourn Day 1
It was awesome. The committee really outdid themselves this year, and if it wasn't for the not-so-agreeable weather on the first day, I'm sure it would've been perfect. Sentosa's such a great place to hold camps this like, where the seniors get to know the incoming IC freshmen and they get to bond between themselves.
The soft white (imported) sand hosted a multitude of team games, many of which unfortunately got rained out. I heard a lot of people complaining when I finally got there on the first evening about being cold and miserable all day, but everything was quickly forgotten that night.
The abandoned colonial derelicts overlooking the whole island messed with everyone's minds as they walked through 'the haunted house' in the dead of night, and with a whole bunch of special effects, it didn't take much for the screams to start. Nor did it help that they were made to wait in the shadows of one of the more impressive, forsaken mansions, with its gaping windows, skewed shutters, and bat-infested verandas, for what seemed like an eternity before they were made to walk, one by one, into the enveloping darkness. It wasn't long before people were letting their imaginations run wild.
I'm a self-proclaimed chicken, so I really couldn't help out inside the house itself and scare people (I'd have wanted to leave with the first ones). Instead, I was assigned to a particularly desolate stretch of road with flickering lights, to welcome, brief, and dispatch the freshmen one by one. Oh joy.
I had to warn them about the winding road and how you could walk right off the hill in the dark simply because I wasn't, under any circumstances, going to conduct a search and rescue mission on that night at that place. I could see the tension mounting in their faces and while ZS had a great laugh at their discomfort, he soon stopped laughing when it was reported that there had been a few scuffles inside the house. It is beyond me why anyone would flip out and then punch and kick the frightening entity...
Thankfully I had someone with me, a wonderful person who had to put up with the incessant whimpering and stay, all night, with someone on the verge of cracking. We waited there for the three hours straddling midnight, and everything was going well until something cold and slimey started up my leg, in which case my condition quickly deteriorated and I started screaming and couldn't stop.
To wrap it up, I couldn't wait to put as much distance between that particular area and myself. So I started out first in line at 1.45am, hurrying towards the blinking lights of civilization and the promise of sleep.
The soft white (imported) sand hosted a multitude of team games, many of which unfortunately got rained out. I heard a lot of people complaining when I finally got there on the first evening about being cold and miserable all day, but everything was quickly forgotten that night.
The abandoned colonial derelicts overlooking the whole island messed with everyone's minds as they walked through 'the haunted house' in the dead of night, and with a whole bunch of special effects, it didn't take much for the screams to start. Nor did it help that they were made to wait in the shadows of one of the more impressive, forsaken mansions, with its gaping windows, skewed shutters, and bat-infested verandas, for what seemed like an eternity before they were made to walk, one by one, into the enveloping darkness. It wasn't long before people were letting their imaginations run wild.
I'm a self-proclaimed chicken, so I really couldn't help out inside the house itself and scare people (I'd have wanted to leave with the first ones). Instead, I was assigned to a particularly desolate stretch of road with flickering lights, to welcome, brief, and dispatch the freshmen one by one. Oh joy.
I had to warn them about the winding road and how you could walk right off the hill in the dark simply because I wasn't, under any circumstances, going to conduct a search and rescue mission on that night at that place. I could see the tension mounting in their faces and while ZS had a great laugh at their discomfort, he soon stopped laughing when it was reported that there had been a few scuffles inside the house. It is beyond me why anyone would flip out and then punch and kick the frightening entity...
Thankfully I had someone with me, a wonderful person who had to put up with the incessant whimpering and stay, all night, with someone on the verge of cracking. We waited there for the three hours straddling midnight, and everything was going well until something cold and slimey started up my leg, in which case my condition quickly deteriorated and I started screaming and couldn't stop.
To wrap it up, I couldn't wait to put as much distance between that particular area and myself. So I started out first in line at 1.45am, hurrying towards the blinking lights of civilization and the promise of sleep.
Don't blink or you'll miss it
It's Monday again. A euphoric Friday seemed to have blurred straight into a cranky Monday morning. I swear I didn't see Saturday and Sunday come or go, and now I'm sure they're figments of the imagination to put a backstop on the week. No-one said they had to belong to this dimension, because apparently they don't. Even though I've brought enough food to sink a battleship and, I hope, keep me fairly entertained til going home time, I think this Monday's going to drag. No, seriously.
Friday, August 20, 2004
Enter Bryan
He holds the extremely pivotal roles of my brother and Captain Obvious's sidekick. Likes to sing made up songs about how much Cheryl sucks - they're highly entertaining up to the end of the first three lines, afterwhich something's usually thrown at him or he is thrown out. What Cheryl lost in height...well it obviously went to him. He stands at about six feet, which is pretty tall for a fourteen year old, and would make an awesome basketballer if he could play basketball in the first place. He's one of those people you get really frustrated at because he has such obvious musical talent but puts it to use singing dumb made up songs, and would be a math genius if he didnt spend all of it on calculating angles and trajectories in Gunbound. He used to be pushed around a lot, but then he suddenly got a whole lot smarter - damn the media...jk. That's my brother, and against all obvious reason, I love him.
Across the causeway
I miss KL. I miss my family, I miss my friends. I miss the food. I miss the car, I miss astro, I miss my house...
I get homesick here a lot faster than when I'm in England, I guess it's partly because I'm alone. Even though I'm less far away, the psychological distance doesnt change. I grew up there, and real home's where my dog is (who always gets really upset when anyone's been gone a while). I've visited Singapore hundreds of times, but I've never stayed past a week. So right now, I really miss home*.
The past three weeks have been nothing short of a culture shock coming back here. Fighting to get on the train or on the bus, or to stay in line - the scuffles are vicious. Adapting feels more difficult than London because I'm supposed to know this city, I was born here, but it feels more foreign than any place I've ever been.
It's not that I hate being here. I love visiting my grandma, she's an awesome cook and looks after me so well, and I love playing with my baby cousin who only has to smile to get out of trouble. I love how it feels so safe and everything's really neat and clean, and I love how there are so many people who'll give you a bright smile in the street.
But it's not like KL. For all of it's crime ridden streets** and dodgy eating places (the dirt makes it taste better), and how everyone just moseys, I'd rather be there right now.
*For the geographically-challenged, KL's located somewhere between China and Australia.
**It's a little biased, I'll admit, but only because I recently got mugged.
I get homesick here a lot faster than when I'm in England, I guess it's partly because I'm alone. Even though I'm less far away, the psychological distance doesnt change. I grew up there, and real home's where my dog is (who always gets really upset when anyone's been gone a while). I've visited Singapore hundreds of times, but I've never stayed past a week. So right now, I really miss home*.
The past three weeks have been nothing short of a culture shock coming back here. Fighting to get on the train or on the bus, or to stay in line - the scuffles are vicious. Adapting feels more difficult than London because I'm supposed to know this city, I was born here, but it feels more foreign than any place I've ever been.
It's not that I hate being here. I love visiting my grandma, she's an awesome cook and looks after me so well, and I love playing with my baby cousin who only has to smile to get out of trouble. I love how it feels so safe and everything's really neat and clean, and I love how there are so many people who'll give you a bright smile in the street.
But it's not like KL. For all of it's crime ridden streets** and dodgy eating places (the dirt makes it taste better), and how everyone just moseys, I'd rather be there right now.
*For the geographically-challenged, KL's located somewhere between China and Australia.
**It's a little biased, I'll admit, but only because I recently got mugged.
It's Fraiday!
I can't believe Friday's finally here, it certainly took its time. It's been three weeks into my design eng attachment, but it only took the first five days to start looking forward to Fridays with an obsessive desperation. Now I understand why people write songs about this day. It is truly good.
Unfortunately I'm not quite out of the woods yet. Another nine hours before the weekend officially arrives - a weekend of fun in the sun, hot beaches, and bikinis...+sigh+ but til then, it's back to the drawing board.
Unfortunately I'm not quite out of the woods yet. Another nine hours before the weekend officially arrives - a weekend of fun in the sun, hot beaches, and bikinis...+sigh+ but til then, it's back to the drawing board.
Thursday, August 19, 2004
One for the Americans
I thought American Idol rocked, a lot of people did, obviously enough for the show to spawn a whole range of attempts at recreating the hype and glamour of the Hollywood based outfit. Among those failings are the Singapore Idol and Malaysian Idol.
Firstly, I’d have to fault the choice of judges. With Paul Moss and Roslin at each other’s throats all episode, it’s a small wonder that the contestants pick up on anything at all constructive. Even with Fauziah, every performance falls into two categories: Pitching? Ada/Takada; and Style: Gaudy/Not gaudy enough. And who hired the stylist? Aside from the fake Malaysian accent, she always forces the issue of light brown, tan, dark brown, medium brown, not-so-light brown, not-so-dark brown, and shit-coloured brown. I say more power to those who stood up to the brown!
Singapore hasn’t fared much better. In true kiasu fashion they went one up on Malaysia and the rest of the world and hired FOUR judges. To be perfectly honest, I can’t tell two of them apart, but not like it makes a difference because they all say the same thing anyway. They spend most of their time ranting about the failings of the entire ‘sorry bunch of jokers’ than at the poor sod standing in front of them. Worse still, the poor sod'll happily nod along, at least in the Malaysians' case they didn't always understand what was being said.
I mean it’s not like we don’t already have enough problems getting the rest of the world to take us seriously…besides, only Americans can pull off this sort of stunt simply because they have an impressionable enough audience who actually care about their highly irritating judges and contestants with more backbone than jellyfish.
Firstly, I’d have to fault the choice of judges. With Paul Moss and Roslin at each other’s throats all episode, it’s a small wonder that the contestants pick up on anything at all constructive. Even with Fauziah, every performance falls into two categories: Pitching? Ada/Takada; and Style: Gaudy/Not gaudy enough. And who hired the stylist? Aside from the fake Malaysian accent, she always forces the issue of light brown, tan, dark brown, medium brown, not-so-light brown, not-so-dark brown, and shit-coloured brown. I say more power to those who stood up to the brown!
Singapore hasn’t fared much better. In true kiasu fashion they went one up on Malaysia and the rest of the world and hired FOUR judges. To be perfectly honest, I can’t tell two of them apart, but not like it makes a difference because they all say the same thing anyway. They spend most of their time ranting about the failings of the entire ‘sorry bunch of jokers’ than at the poor sod standing in front of them. Worse still, the poor sod'll happily nod along, at least in the Malaysians' case they didn't always understand what was being said.
I mean it’s not like we don’t already have enough problems getting the rest of the world to take us seriously…besides, only Americans can pull off this sort of stunt simply because they have an impressionable enough audience who actually care about their highly irritating judges and contestants with more backbone than jellyfish.
The art of 'conning' a person
Recently i fell into a 'trap' by a certain somebody and i feel so stupid for not realising who it was *ahem* This young lady is without fail your queen of 'con', things you could not have possibly even thought of, she does them - and she does them so subtley that when it hits you, its too late and the damage is done. I have yet to meet an individual who is able to match her prowess all the way, and it is in this little blog that i give her recognition for that almighty feat ;) hehe.
You know who you are!
You know who you are!
Ode to my sister
I'd like to introduce you to my sister because being the person that she is, wouldn't stay out of the picture for very long. I'd post a photo, but if I took one of her, she'd crack the lens (no, kidding, I just haven't figured out how to yet). She's really sixteen, but about 87 in terms of cynicism. She's short, but people say we look like twins - I say they're blind. She likes reading, playing computer games, and talking. When I say talking, I really mean talking; if talking were an Olympic event, she'd take gold in word-vomit and most-inopportune-time-to-start-talking. However, blood is in fact thicker than water, and she's stuck by me most of the time, when she's not getting me into trouble that is or making me feel stupid. Like today, you Foglart's reject! +lol+
Almost...there...
When the icy wind of the arctic tundra is screaming down your neck and it becomes a Herculean effort just to lift your head, 20 cents worth of hot milo from the dispenser feels like bliss in a tiny paper cup.
Ah, the simple things in life.
- And yes Mum, I miss you guys too.
Ah, the simple things in life.
- And yes Mum, I miss you guys too.
Cheryl!
I'd like to say a big FAT congrats to my ickle sister who's scored straight As with 5 *'s and 7 normal ones in her IGCSEs! We're all so proud!
"Bleat bleat"
I wonder if the animals in the zoo tire of all the people pointing and waving and gawking at them. The walls of my 2 by 2 habitat aren't high enough and I'm not stuck in some obscure back corner of the zoo, I mean office, but right in front: Exhibit A. It sucks. Try as I may, no matter how low I slouch in my chair or slink behind my computer screen, it always feels like someone's looking over my shoulder or over the wall as they walk past. And it's only 8.30.
But the day is full of people who'll flick their eyes towards you in irritation, like when you head for the cafeteria early, or you go to the bathroom too many times, or if they catch you reading... The simplest of responses like that leaves you properly chastened and embarrassed. I wonder why we're so conscious of what everyone else thinks or does; and no matter how many times you could try to deny it, there's always a tiny part inside screaming for acceptance.
But the day is full of people who'll flick their eyes towards you in irritation, like when you head for the cafeteria early, or you go to the bathroom too many times, or if they catch you reading... The simplest of responses like that leaves you properly chastened and embarrassed. I wonder why we're so conscious of what everyone else thinks or does; and no matter how many times you could try to deny it, there's always a tiny part inside screaming for acceptance.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Public pools
I paid S$ 1.30 for a half hour of nasty tasting pool water and the company of complete strangers. This evening's foray into the public pool social scene was nothing short of traumatic. Trying to swim a lap involved stray kicks from struggling breastrokers, tsunami-like wakes of the enthusiastic freestylers, and a whole bunch of neon-coloured kiddies thrashing across the width in a fight for sheer survival. It was like running a gauntlet, the novelty of it being that each pass was never quite the same.
From a less life-threatening perspective, I did manage to see the dressed-down side of Singapore, a far cry from the perfectly manicured yuppies that patrol the CBD. These aunties, nannies, and older sisters were quite happily herding their charges towards the various slides and pools, bringing a more relaxed, homely touch to an otherwise impartial city.
From a less life-threatening perspective, I did manage to see the dressed-down side of Singapore, a far cry from the perfectly manicured yuppies that patrol the CBD. These aunties, nannies, and older sisters were quite happily herding their charges towards the various slides and pools, bringing a more relaxed, homely touch to an otherwise impartial city.
Sheep in the big city
It looks like I've finally succumbed to the endless wave of media onslaught (or boredom), and jumped right on the blogging bandwagon. Supported by my boyfriend ("I thought you hated blogging") and my bestfriend ("I know, let's call it Siao Liao: the Ash story") I'm gonna jump in the deep end...face the firing squad...pee into the wind! but in baby steps, of course.
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