Another year wrapped up

I refuse to write anything to do with "The Year That Was". I'll put up pictures soon, the text must be monotonous, you poor but loyal farts. The fact that Weng's busy preparing for his GMAT means that my hitrate's embarrassingly low.

The dark clouds are rolling quickly across the valley pregnant with the promise of another torrential downpour. My dog is having an anxiety attack as she looks to get as high up as possible on the furniture (she's sitting on the dining table), despite the fact that we're about 20 stories above ground. I imagine she's worried about the water.

While I write this I'm looking through suckball and they've linked this. I took a moment to read it as I'm sure you'll do too. I want to laugh at the sheer ludricousness. Some of the article is still applicable I suppose, yes, it would be nice if your partner came home to a dinner that's been prepared in time or if the house is in some semblance of order, but the rest is just crap.

The content of magzines over the last 50 years has changed dramatically. That one asks you to never question your partner's judgement or integrity, hang on every single word of his more important topics of conversation, and roll over and beg for a scratch. The magazines of today tell you to take control of your life, to put yourself forward, that you have selfworth, and that life begins at 40. All because the pants happened somewhere in that half a century.

There was another article I came across about how much your degree is worth in terms of payback on your investment. Engineering came up tops in everything but then I wonder where those guys live because engineers aren't usually paid great here. Being an American article, I imagine it's not like Asia where every other person is an engineer of some kind. You only need to look at the ethnic and national proportions over at Imperial to get an idea of the lack of distinction you go back to Asia with. That and the fact that whenever I do something stupid at home, my mum uses it against me. I do a lot of stupid things at home - all sense of independence and improvisation gets switched off, so I get "So you're an engineer, huh?" a lot as well.

I don't really know where I'm going with this, but it's New Year's Eve and I hope you have a good, safe time later. I was supposed to spend New Year's Eve with my family, but they all suddenly got really popular, so Bry and I are going to church for Watchnight.

I can't believe it's the 1st tomorrow, back to England in five days! So fast!

And it's out of the park

Sometimes you wonder why the other countries don't take Malaysia all too seriously. Aside from their alleged government-funded VCD factories, Malaysia has one again stepped into the international spotlight with another announcement worthy of a place in the book of stupid things to do.

They want to drape the Jalur Gemilang and 56 other flags over a pyramid. No, not Sunway Pyramid in all its tacky, polystyrene-painted glory, but the pyramid, the big one at Giza.

The Egyptian government said no.

Would you believe it? The Egyptians said no. No to the Malaysian Peace Mission team, no to the RM200,000 effort, and no to the exploitation of one of the world's most iconic pieces of architecture that has aboslutely nothing to do with them in the first place.

What complete and utter morons.

Nevermind, the Statue of Liberty would probably look good in a baju kebaya. Let's ask the Americans.

Run for your lives

The Zara sale started today. I thought we were early getting into 1U at 11am but apparently not because by the time we'd got there, the line for the changing rooms was snaking its way between the clothes-strewn tables and racks, across the crowded spaces between the tables and racks, and generally looking so daunting that I resorted to pulling tops on over what I was wearing and asking Weng.

Weng managed to find a nice shirt in his size after we ditched the ladies' wear section. I was suffocating on the mix of body odors, about thirty different designer perfumes, and the whole range of Impulse sprays. In fact, I was so overwhelmed I had to drag Weng out of the carnage twenty minutes later.

I'm going back tomorrow, only tomorrow, I'll be more prepared. I'm going at 10am and I'm going with my mum. Hah.

Distractions

Things have more or less settled down after the flurry of activity that surrounded Christmas. Last night's football was a welcome treat with plenty of goals, and I'm once again hooked on those massive crosswords that lurk in the back of Australian women's magazines. My mum has a stack of about six or so on the coffee table and they've been scoured through three or four times just to be sure I haven't missed one. I haven't.

I've been ransacking Cher's shelves for Patterson books to stave off my crossword addiction. I average a novel every two days and they're starting to run out too.

I guess it's back to composites research and writing.

I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and that you're really enjoying this holiday.

One to remember

What a weekend it's been. The last 72 hours have passed in a blur of activity. There was the last minute Christmas shopping for Cheryl's presents with Cheryl, then extorting our brother for the gifts he helped buy to his cries of "but you guys spent a whole month's allowance in two hours!".

Then there was the CBC Christmas Cantata, which was all cosiness and warmth. Saturday was spent preparing our first every Christmas Eve dinner with turkey. It was a small turkey so everything turned out perfectly, and I found out Mum makes amazing mushroom soup. The apple pie was good although I had to really coax my stomach into stretching just a little bit more. In true Chinese tradition where the eve of an important holiday is the most celebrated, we opened our Christmas presents early, with many faked gasps of surprise, seeing as we chose most of the gifts ourselves - we're sarcastically connected like that, but the feeling was real, of the sort you only see on TV.

Then today was just awesome. I finally got baptized and now I feel so much lighter, having finally taken a step that I should've got up the courage to do a long time ago. We had to do a reprise of our songs from Friday night and my narration stuck in a few places because there were just so many more people this morning.

My family, Weng, CBC, this glorious Christmas holiday...God has blessed me with so much more than I deserve. It's good to be back.

Tis the season

Last night was awesome. I didn't realise how stressed out I was or that I've been running on nothing but high levels of tension for the last four days, that when our choir presentation was finally over, I sat down and almost nodded off during the sermon after. Then I was told that we have to do it all again on Sunday morning, but it's all for the Lord so we're more than willing workers, and Christmas only comes once a year anyhow.

Everyone's ill - bad throats, tickly coughs, and a couple of fevers running everywhere, but the choir put it in an admirable performance and the soloists were incredible. I barely knew the words, so my eyes kept sliding down to the telemonitor at our feet, and I didn't really know the alto part, so I just picked a note wherever I could hear it and gave it my best shot.

I'm getting baptized tomorrow. It being Christmas day as well makes it even more special. CBC have been nothing but fully supportive, patient, and absolutely wonderful in helping me get to this point. Especially our Pastor for his encouragement and teaching, and Jon, for all of his support and excitement.

We're even having a Christmas Eve dinner with turkey and all that. This is a first for my family I think.

This festive season has truly been an inspired one! Happy Christmas!

Holiday crowding

I've spent the last five days completely off balance so I apologise for the lack of updates. It's like that when you're home for the holidays, short Christmas holidays in particular.

I was volunteered to provide narration at the Christmas Cantata, CBC (do come), and should've looked at the text before I said okay. Now I have to learn my parts and the most random script ever.

Driving's always worth a paragraph or two after we get back. I've been listening to Weng's complaints of how they drive too close, don't follow (or know) the right-of-way rules, cut without signalling first, turn without signalling first, stop without signalling first. It seems most Malaysians have forgotten that they even possess indicators, or maybe the vibration from their stripped-down exhausts has shaken their brains to mush.

This time round, I've adapted more quickly to local driving and I'm largely unfazed, or was largely unfazed, until Weng complained that I cut him off at a junction. I swear, there were no cars. I don't get to drive all that much now because Cheryl's so insistent on driving anywhere. I have to wrestle the keys off her.

But no, Weng hasn't spent his holidays so far only complaining. The guy was so happy to be back that he spent the first sunday handing out handfuls of chocolates absolutely reeking of happiness. It was like Christmas come early for him.

I finally watched Harry Potter yesterday. We spent fortyfive minutes in line, having reached the counter the first time and finding out that the tickets were sold out, then rejoining the line and waiting for the telephone reservations to be released. The smell was terrible. Six lines of anxious, mildly sweaty bodies standing way too close as tickets seemed to sell out faster than the lines were moving. Then there was that stupid woman who 'made friends' with someone two people infront of us and then proceeded to talk to them until they hit the front of the queue (they were three people away, I think she wanted to be slightly less obvious about it). She cut line. I wanted to smack her, feeling quite distraught at the prospect that I might be the very very last person on earth to watch Harry Potter. But we got in, and I didn't have to resort to violence.

I haven't been Christmas shopping yet because I haven't been able to get into MidValley. You need persistency and lots and lots of time, which I don't have. The jam to get into the carparks wraps around the mall three cars deep. So that's why we're leaving at 10am to try and get into the mall early. I gotta go.

I am bored and fluey

It's that time of the term again in that last week when you're chomping at the bit in anticipation of a holiday, regardless of whether or not you spend it relaxing or doing more work every day then you have been for the last eleven weeks.

I spent most of my afternoon curled up in bed against the draft and the harsh winter sun, trying to sleep out the woolly-headedness of my flu. Yes, it's also that time of the term when the cummulated beatings of the last ten weeks leave you so tired and yearning to be on holiday that your immune system is completely useless.

I actually have plenty of work to do. The end of the Italian exam seemed to make me switch off, which means I have not picked up a pen since 1.00pm, Tuesday, even though I have a feeling I was already in the motions of switching off long before this week. Either way, I am not doing anything at the moment and no one actually wants to talk to me. Given that I'm not good at waiting, I might consider doing some work, at which point when everyone will want to talk to me. It's twisted like that.

I have to go chocolate shopping. I hate going chocolate shopping because I never know how much to buy. With my family, you can't buy too much otherwise you deprive them of the part where they're all looking at the last piece and deciding on who gets it (at which point my brother swipes it to the wails of my sister and with a complete disregard for anyone else). It's tricky business. Too much and it's left untouched. I'm sure there's an economic model for this.

Don't try this at home

"I'd hate to die by drowning..." says Lester.
"But you can swim." Interjects Godwin.

"Do you know which is the longest hair on your body? The ones in your eyebrow, because if you pluck your butt hair, your eyebrow twitches."

Out of the blue comes a post

It's been a while. Haven't had the time or inspiration to put anything down that's worth mentioning. *sigh* However I've decided to cut "The Experiment" short. (It's the 23rd of Nov entry.)

First things first. I bring to you the much awaited answer to,

Question: Does Ash draw more (A) 'friend requests' and (B) 'random "hello/hey" messages' on Skype because she's female?

IMPORTANT information prior to testing
1) I get on average, if I'm lucky, one hit every 2 months.
2) I believe myself to be the average male Skype user and thus be an ideal guinea pig.
3) I was bored.

THE TEST

Changed my online gender to female for about a total of 2 weeks. With the first week gone I got two hits *woohoo, with regards to the test mind you...* and then...nothing. Ash concluded after a week and a bit "I don't think there are many sexy females who call themselves Weng".

*slap forehead* small oversight =p

Decided to go with a more, and I quote, "sexy" name. Samantha was coined. Ash suggested it cos she thinks Samantha from "Bewitched" is sexy. And hey, who's to argue with the one that gets on average 3 hits a day? WIthin the first week, I got 8 hits! Amazing stuff. Which promptly brings me here.

*drum roll*

I conclude after 3 weeks of extensive *ahem* albeit crude testing, that Ash does indeed garner more hits than me because she's female. However, that alone does not guarantee 3 hits a day, the female MUST and i stress, MUST have a sexy name. lol. I guess guys think that Ashley is a sexy name.

Something additional that was considered was that my email was weng####@gmail.com. Perhaps that was noted prior to chat-time. Didn't bother to check that angle out. Too much work.

Implications and follow-ups to this experiment. None. Boredom satisfied.

Note: This test will not divulge the online identity of male Skype users that inadvertently fell foul of my experiment. =)

On a side note, 3 days to home! =D WOOHOO!

Second side note, good to hear Rudy's back on his feet =)

Hamster lovin' and fajitas

I think we're having a Christmas dinner this year because some family will actually be in town. This is the first Christmas dinner at home that I can remember, and Cheryl's warned me far in advance not to arrange anything for that night. She also introduced me to the place where I adopted Frederick. Cheryl feels that her blue porcupine King Steven (named after Liverpool captain, Stevie G) is a better pet because if you click on him several times, he jumps higher and higher before curling into a blue spikey ball and rolling off the edge of his square. I am extremely happy with Frederick, he runs on his wheel whenever you click on him, which I completely feel for, and as I was saying, thank goodness he fits perfectly into my margin because otherwise I wouldn't've known how to resize him.

Weng and I tried making fajitas today and it was amazing. It was amazingly good and amazingly a lot, so I think it's going to be wraps for the rest of the week until I shift the 700g of minced beef and similarly sized portions of chilli and cheese. I've already advertised my fajitas to my housemates so much so that they seem almost reluctant to try it. I can't imagine why. Any volunteers?

Friendster came good

I think Wooby's idea of setting up a Class of 2001 circle on Friendster is pretty cool. Weng showed it to me this afternoon, and I must say, I look forward to seeing who else joins. It definitely satisfies all those people out there who spend lazy afternoons thinking back to highschool and wondering what became of everyone else. Call me a busybody, but it's good to know that so many people are doing so well, and that they look happy, and as we start to move out of university and onto the rest of our lives, I think it'll get even more interesting.

On the subject of friends, it seems that my group of college mates from HELP have formed so many ties with people from GIS over the last two years. I'm continuously surprised by how tightly crosslinked everyone is, especially since there is this thing called Friendster that was an absolute must to join a few years ago. It's wonderful how it seems to bring so many lives together, like a huge tangle of brightly coloured string, with genuine delight in realising that everybody really knows everybody else.

It makes the whole world a little smaller, a little closer to home, and not quite so scary anymore.

Updates from the home front

About the set up, Cheryl, I put your initial to retain some degree of annonymity, but seeing as you've admitted it, I hold no responsibility over who might come across this page and scold you. Lol.

My most treasured sister has also scratched the car. Maybe now Dad'll get the other scratches on the undercarriage fixed as well.

The CBC choir is performing at Times Square, Kuala Lumpur, on the 18th, which means, after touching down on the 17th night, I have one evening to learn the songs, and I'm dragging Weng in with me. They've been practising for ages, I'm sure they sound amazing! We'll just stand in to make up numbers and "make like watermelons" or something. I can't remember the exact phrase, but it's something to do with watermelons...mouthing them maybe?

And Weng's computer just "shutted down/shut downed"- in his words, he's still trying to get it right. I really should on the lights. It's getting dark. Anyhow, there's a direct dependency between the time left to the holidays and the frequency of Weng's computer dying. It pretty much sits there and acts like an air filter/heater. But that means we're flying back next Friday!
Yay!

Injustices

1. South Kensington charges extortionate prices for everything.
2. I walked into a shop this morning and saw a woman clutching a fox fur stole complete with petrified head. She should buy it a shoebox and have it buried. Stop killing the foxes.
3. Being female, I have been rendered useless by moon cycles.
4. The Ritz are heightist. I think every bellboy, butler, doorman, and waiter was at least 6ft.
5. I have to waste a good 5kg of baggage weight hauling books and papers back and forth across the world because I have that lit. report due January. I should really explain to my supervisor the sheer inefficiency of the task - engineers loathe inefficiencies.
6. It's really late, I need the sleep badly, but the worry of lugging 5kg of deadweight back and forth when I could use it for things that would actually bring me joy (like 5kg of Milo) is keeping me awake.
   

The Ritz

With the gentle swoosh of the revolving doors, I walked into 19th Century decadence, the colours and sounds so rich and velvety welcomed me like a warm silk duvet, shutting out the grey, damp, struggling world outside.

Elaborately carved cornices gilded in gold curled around the ceiling and down the walls, supported by a heavy floral theme of plush carpets and ornate arrangements, reflected in the panels of mirrors in a confusion of pinks, whites, and golds. People talked in hushed voices or through their expensive fur wraps, while a pianist carefully wove his music into the air thickened with the scent of luxury and designer parfums. Men in tails bowed slightly as I passed offering crisp directions when asked.

I chose a seat at a table, soaking in the beautifully-laid tea before me: the sugar cubes and thongs, the delicately arranged plates of scones, pastries, and sandwiches, the long delicate knives and forks that lay beside the red and gold china. Then there were the waiters, bending over to offer you a drink with a gentle, French-accented murmur, Tea, with milk? Water? Still or sparkling, Madam. Some juice perhaps? And they would disappear on silent feet to fulfill your request.

Sheer magic.

Stalking 101

C: My college mate is trying to hook me up with his "best homie". He ambushed me once with his friend in tow. Embarrassing much.

How many times have you asked your friend for a hook up, to put in a good word for you in strategic places, for a phone number so you can call and hang up again straight after his (or her) 'hello?' with your heart in your mouth? It takes a rare person to find the guts to ask someone out face to face without first engaging in a covert op.

Therefore most of us are left scrabbling for bits of information from sympathetic and obliging friends, who let us pump them for every single time the object of your affections so much as breathed and what they breathed about, especially since you go out of your way to avoid him.

What did you tell him? What did he say? What does he think of me? Does he like me? Does he like like me?

And once the interrogation finishes, they then have to put up with a barrage of

Does he like me? What do you think? What should i do? Omg, I don't know if he even likes me!

And as the desperation mounts, you start arranging completely accidental meetings based on the "Where he goes for lunch" section of your inch thick dossier that is the quintessence of completeness, you'd put the CIA to shame.

Oh, wow, you go here too? I had no idea! Of course I go here (yea, since like last week).

As you start to get used to forming audible sentences in the presence of your heart's desire, you call him using the number you've committed to memory, engraved onto the back of your notepad, and into your heart, right next to your name and his surname, in a bubble of happy flowers and floating clouds.

He doesn't stand a chance.

Onion soup

This is the third New Covent Garden soup we've tried and all I can say is that they should pay their marketing department more.

Our Best Chicken tastes like Wild Mushroom which tastes like Smoked Haddock Chowder, which isn't any of the above flavours, but is infact onion and potato. The entire New Covent Garden soup line is based on a sort of potato and milk mush infused with essence of onion that's then tinted accordingly, and if there's any sort of meat mentioned in the title, a nondescript fibre is added, not unlike chicken that's been boiled to death and then kept for several months. This is all then packaged in cheery cardboard containers that have most of the English completely and utterly fooled, including Weng, who swears they all taste different.

Happy Birthday Mum!

My mummy gets a year older but looks a year younger each time I go back I tell you (I know, I haven't got her a present yet). I hope she has a great day and that Bry doesn't stress her out. I wish I could be there to celebrate with everyone - the urge to go home has suddenly kicked in.

Oh, and happy 23rd anniversary to my parents too. What a day for celebrations!

Cheryl reported back that she was the only one, aside from Dad who got the cake, who bought Mum anything, anything being a bouquet of flowers, designer cups, and a Dave Pelzer book, so we owe her 80 each. Dad's says he's not golfing tomorrow because it is their wedding anniversary, but the real reason, Cheryl says, is that the guy who arranges their weekly golf session is away in Ipoh this weekend. Rofl. I miss my family.

Avoiding the inevitable

Let's see what's been going on so far.

We won our match on Monday, much to our surprise given their strong track record. The shuffling of places seems to be successful, but it's hard to tell from one game. The Reserves Cup starts next week, hopefully we'll get past round one.

My sister is struggling with career prospects and university choices and all that. It really sucks because I know how frustrating it is.

Bride and Prejudice is hilarious stuff. If you've ever been as fascinated as I have by Bollywood and how their dance routines are so hypnotisingly cheesy, this is a good film to watch. It's a completely no-brainer kind of movie although it did get irritating whenever they broke into another villagers-with-perfect-choreography stunt or ran a bunch of scenes like on those bad karaoke tracks.

Little Britain rocks, and Crichton's State of Fear is amazing. If you wonder how I'm fitting all my school work around my excessive entertainment schedule, I will admit that it is challenging, and my to-do list from yesterday is still glaring at me.

Presenting Danielle

On the 26th of November at 4.20am, Doreen, Edwin, and Denise welcomed a brand new person into their beautiful family!


You can tell she's going to be a star ;)

Grey, like the sky

The math involved in taking a crappy FF team and turning it into something that will stop your accelerating slide down the rankings is akin to advanced calculus. Something I can't do.

Lunch yesterday was fun. Tao and Stef are always great fun to meet and I'm really thankful Ming bought a cake.

My sister's referring to the car as 'my car' now, which I'm not sure whether to be thankful or annoyed at the prospect of having to fight for it three ways. We'll see how it goes in December. At the rate my work is going, I won't have time to set foot outside so it shouldn't be an issue. Grr.

Weng headed back to his village this morning. Hee hee. I better get started on work. That's the reason I'm awake and being abused by my sister on MSN instead of under my duvet, away from the world.

Man, I feel so blah.

Sombre thoughts

Another completely shit week in FF has left me defeated and uncaring. My morale is at an all time low and we're barely three weeks from the end of term, which is scary because I feel as though I haven't accomplished enough this term - appointment after appointment and errand after errand has made me feel like a hamster in a wheel, and all the carefully laid out plans for various projects have been largely ignored.

I want to go back to secondary school.

The last two weeks have reminded me of the frailty of life, how death has little consideration for the youth or the potential that may lie ahead. Mushil was taken from us a week and a half ago, I'll miss his love for dance, that twinkle in his eye, his ready smile, he could lift the weight from your shoulders from the minute he held out his hand for a dance to the time the music stopped playing; and in the last twenty four hours or so, a sixth-former from GIS, a boy on the brink of the rest of his life, a life that's not going to happen anymore.

I think the thing is, these were people we know.

We brought reinforcements

So we went to Notts to play netball and you'd think that this post is all about how we worked our butts off but didn't make it past the group stage, how the level of play has shot through the roof compared to last year, and how the IC teams were the smallest on court.

It could be about how Ben thinks we should start training for next year now and start drinking protein shakes, or that how our new problem isn't finding girls, it's finding big enough girls (not really an issue because our girls are bloody fast, despite Ben's claim that it takes forever to run around the opposition).

No, this year was all about this:

Good eh? I can hear people thinking "kiasuism to its fullest", but it was necessary, if a little ostentatious. We spent a good hour and a half trying to figure out how to put up before the girls arrived. Their bus broke down and I was so worried they weren't going to make it in time, but they arrived, and with PC too, who took one look at the tent and corrected it in five minutes.

Then Ben set up the barbeque pit which was essentially a bucket of coals with a metal grill. Him and his testers (Tom and Weng) then munched through seven burgers and four hotdogs "to see if they were edible" before distributing the rest.

The warmth and shelter had the rest of the teams looking on in envy as they hung around the windswept courts with their frostbitten hands and feet. We had an awesome time (with hot chocolate and hamburgers!) around the barbeque, goofing around as a team on and off the court.

The girls were amazing, and like we said last year, there's always next year!

This wouldn't've been possible without Gwen, our Mother Hen and logistics expert, and Ben, head chef and logistics expert's back up. Gwen put so much effort into planning the day for the girls and Ben pulled an all-nighter to get things together. They are such a phenomenal couple.


And of course to our clean up crew.

Happy birthday dahling! +muah muah+

I write this as Weng looks over my shoulder, which, I suppose, is completely in line with this year's theme of "spoil the surprise". I remember last year's theme being the Story of the Funny Cake, which means we're all one year older, not much wiser, and Weng is finally 20.

Okay he's gone. Preparing for his birthday has been stressful, the budget was so tight that it's effectively negative, I had to resort to e-Bay (but it was brand new, okay), and Tish messaging me with "You know what, I think I'm gonna get Weng..." everytime he was hovering around the back of my chair.

So as I drag Weng up to Nottingham tomorrow morning in the predawn darkness to stand in the cold for 8 hours, I hope he has a wonderful birthday with nothing but the best things ahead of him for the years to come. I love you, sweetheart.

Run and hide indeed

We took the Itchy and Scratchy Show on the road last year in a fun-filled trip to Poland and as if that was not enough, they've joined the blogosphere and are now online at All The Stuff Naughty Hyps Get Up To. I can't hardly wait!

Too busy to talk

As the age of blogging continues to bloom and hoardes of attentionseekers plague the internet in search of pseudo-stardom and massive hits, I find myself increasingly reliant on blogs to keep up with my friends' lives, and even my sister's.

It works this way with Cheryl, when you talk to her, she'll bring you up to speed with what's going on and stuff but because she natters on and on about everything, it's so hard to filter out the important things, so I keep one eye on her convo and the rest of my brain on whatever I'm supposed to be doing. Thus in order for me to keep up with the things that are really important, I need to go to her blog. I suppose I could say that the same applies to Evan, but then again I've also resorted to telling people like my boyfriend and my bestfriends to 'go read my page' because 'it's on there'. Shame on me.

Weng's also had to reluctantly pass on his FCUK t-shirt because after several washes it appears to have shrunk to the size of a baby-t, not unlike the ones my two year old cousin wears without pants. Aren't they cute at that age.

Decisions

Today has been a day of mixed fortunes in a fuzzy, exhausted, artificially-maintained kind of way.

After last night's match in the freezing cold and falling on astro turf, I've never felt so beat up. Apart from sporting a graze that threatens to break everytime I bend my knee, I found out this afternoon that it actually sits on an even bigger greenish-blue bruise that has wrapped itself across half of my knee and underneath it too. I need rest.

Added to the anticipation of an entire day in the cold out at Notts on Saturday, I need more rest.

Happy 21st to Huiyuan, who celebrates it tomorrow, and a happy 19th to Eunice who also celebrates it tomorrow. So many November babies!

Weng's already guessed his present, and his birthday is not 'til Saturday. There was even a "do not touch!" post-it stuck onto it, and he finally admitted to picking it up and having a feel. This boy would poke a finger in wet paint, sign and all.

Musings

The older you get, the less perfect parents get, but the more you love them for who they are and what they've done for you. They stop being just figures of authority and security, and they become actual people. You can call their bluff and they always know when to call yours but still love you anyway, and so you start to appreciate them a lot more. Just a thought.

How coincidental, Weng and I were just talking about internet users and how some of them seem to be bored, bitter cowards who like nothing more than to spend their entire day drifting like viruses until they find something petty to jump on and destroy. Like birthday happiness. But what can I say, when you put anything online and on display , you're giving them permission to take swipes at you, it's a given. It just depends on how much scum there is on the underside of the rock that day.

A creature of habit

We have a match tomorrow against LSE 4ths or 5ths, I can't remember which, but the fact that they have enough girls to make 4 or 5 teams and still be 2nd in the table is quite intimidating. It was good seeing most of the girls turn up to training this week and we were rewarded with quite a long time on court because most of the seconds didn't show, and as if my face is not flat enough, I tried to catch the ball with my eye socket twice, once on the left, once on the right. In my defence, it was dark. My face still hurts though.

The boys brought in our very first prototype. Charlie had improvised a lot past the basic structure that we had agreed to test, and we spent most of the meeting ripping the improvisations off and altering parts of it, but I'm glad to say that the cardboard hoverboard actually works. Now we need to refine the calculations, build a second prototype to a higer quality, and start putting performance graphs together. Piece of cake.

After dinner, Jeftor came up to sit with us for a bit where we invited him to play bridge with us and impart some of his knowledge and skill. After the first round (which he wins), he goes, "This isn't bridge." Rofl. Bridge never plays secret partners, only a random variation called Whist or something. He thinks it's a Singaporean export. I wouldn't be surprised.

I know why I didn't feel so cold out there tonight, my ass has just started to dethaw. Ouch.

Here it is

The promised post for the week.

Well I don't really have to update what happened over the weekend cos Ash has pretty much covered that so I'll talk about other stuff.

I'm turning 20 in a couple days! Woohoo! I'm finally moving out of my '-teens' but I feel much older. Funnily I understand how people can forget their own birthdays. I guess it's because there's so much stuff that preoccupies the mind that you don't realise it's close till it's too close. lol, if that makes sense.

I feel old.

On another note, I've changed the gender on my Skype account to female to test a hypothesis.

*gasp* followed by *shock* and then *non-stop laughter*

My motivation/catalyst for this sudden action is well, Ash has a lot of 'add requests' from random people. Don't know the reason(s) for this BUT I suspect it's because she's female, hence the change in my online sex identity. Temporarily of course =p.

Or it could be something really random. For instance, that her name begins with 'A' and mine's 'W'. Hence I'm at the bottom of the search list of 'Malaysians' in the age category of 17-25.

Or it could be that she's female. Lol.

Stay tuned for my conclusion at the end of term. Or until I get more than 1 'add request' within the one month.

Moving along...

Question: What implications does the purchase of a wall poster depicting a female in a provocative/compromising postion have on the male buyer? Is he immediately typified as a hormone raging, horny, all blooded male?

Just something I observed today at the poster fair.

Important Disclaimer: It wasn't me. Honest.

I'm serious. Stop laughing.

A post...

...coming soon =)

Stay tuned this week for developments.

First weekend away

I heard that the older you get, the smaller your circle of close friends becomes, but no one told me that I'd have to choose. My circle of close friends was already relatively small to start off with and now it seems that it's about to shrink even further.

I've also heard a whole bunch of things that have surprised me, seen things that I can't stop thinking about for no obvious reason, and found out things about myself that had never occurred to me at all. It's been a weekend of revelations and then some.

It was also Tish's 21st. Weng worked his way through two glasses of malibu punch and danced +shock and awe+ we should definitely try three next time. The poor guy did wake up with a blinding headache but that was the draft, not the alcohol, because people insisted on going in and out at the most absurd times of the night and morning in -2degree weather.

I wasn't sure if Tish drunk enough for his 21st but it was probably in excess by his standards anyway. Tom was quite happily helping himself to Smirnoff after Smirnoff before presenting his amassed bottle caps to Nat upon request (I exaggerate, it was only, what, 4 bottle caps after two beers, Nat?), and Ev and Ade debuted on the big screen with the MTVs we filmed over the last two weeks of summer (100% homemade), bringing back fond memories of late nights and plenty of laughing - good times. The music was good and there was a chocolate fountain. A small one, but it was so much fun.

It was good seeing so many faces again, even if I did arrive with mild trepidation. It's always good seeing so many old friends. I've missed them so much, it's a shame they left so early the next day and so mysteriously too. Ahem, you know who you are.

Fast forward through an afternoon of Mafia, more food, some tired Poker, and an hour's journey back into London. It's Monday again, and it feels like everyone's seen Harry Potter but me. There's a beautiful iceskating rink outside the Natural History Museum that I'm dying to try, and I have an Italian test in three hours.

Happy Birthday Tish

Hey Old Man, Happy 21st!!

WAsTe

I gave up the struggle to make it to this morning's 9am lecture shortly after the alarm rang at about 7.45 and slept through to 10. Technically I still had three hours full of the promise of productivity before my next lecture but that slipped through my slackened fingers with minimum effort on either of our parts. Dinner was early, leaving me with yet another three hours to catch up with tutorials, but I watched that march past my half-closed eyes too.

I have aboslutely no motivation to work in a way that is mind-numbingly scary. I have no motivation to go out either. I swear my mammalian instincts are calling out to me, it's winter, just sleep. I have the eyebags to prove it even after chalking up the right amount of hours.

After Weng mentioned that there was a sign in his Chemistry building with Southampton written using elements from the periodic table, we googled the table, and played our own find-as-many-words game. After ten minutes of fierce competition, it was a tie.

It's getting to that time of the year

Yes. It's that time of the year again. The time when every day is like every other day.

Well at least to me. =)

Routines are firmly established and you find yourself plodding along to your daily schedule. School days comes and goes and the weekends we look forward to, comes and goes at an even faster rate. Before you know it, you'll be receiving your graduation cert.

Question: Why is it that all good things never seem to last as long as we want it to? lol. Don't even try to answer that if you've got a dull answer. On the contrary if you have an entertaining one, I'll like to hear it =)

Plodding along...

AND it's gotten VERY cold all of a sudden. All in the space of what, 2 weeks? Which brings me to the want to go back to KL, to get some much needed sun (and sports) =) C'mon they're even expecting SNOW in southampton this weekend. Not heavy snow but still... it's only November!

Crazy weather.

But yeah, KL. Just got to wait 4 and a half weeks more and a 3hour check-in and a 12+hour flight and baggage claim and insert as appropriate minus *fingers crossed* a/many doofus(es) that don't show up on time. More on this later.

But hey, I think it's well worth it.

You get to see family, friends, loved ones, familiar surroundings and of course celebrate Christmas! Missed the last one, so I'm really looking forward to going back for the Dec hols. =)

*Reverse plod appx. 2 months*

With regards to the two doofuses (yes, that's the way you spell it), they caused us a half hour delay back in summer when we were leaving KL for UK.

Basically, they didn't show up on the plane at the designated departure time. Our cabin crew informed the passengers of our missing flight buddies, and therefore announced a 15/20min delay because they had to search for their luggage in the cabin hold and throw it out i.e. bomb scare.

But hey what do you know! They turn up 10mins later to the applause of the passengers, their fellow British countrymen. Lol. They were two teenagers by the way, the Malaysians just sat quietly and observed, hehe.

Delays suck.

Yup three paragraphs in two words. My friends say I tell granny stories but it'll put the kids to sleep next time =)

Ok *fast plodding back to the present*

The 'grandpa' of our group turns 21 this saturday! IT"S GONNA BE AWESOME!!! Hopefully. Haha, nah, I'm sure it'll be absolutely great =) A milestone indeed. Tish if you read this before saturday, just want you to know... Be prepared! ;)

You bring out the best in our group. =D

---Plod out---

MBTIdiot

I sat there for two and a half hours and I'm still not entirely sure what for. I merely confirmed certain things about myself that any respectable Cosmo quiz could have told me.

Apparently I'm an extrovert, even though I'm only sociable on good days, which are increasingly far and few between, I do aspire to be extroverted. I'm a thinker not a feeler, I look at things with logic (totally different from common sense - which Weng will tell you I am a bit short of) and any decisions I make are based on facts. I was almost a feeler though, almost. and finally, I need always need a plan and am not spontaneous.

I knew that.

And then it said I had a natural head for business and things mechanical. Mg. I need something decisive, not something that just adds to my indecision. That's pretty much it for me, right? Business or mechanical engineering.

I knew that also.

The best line in a book so far that is not Terry Pratchett: "He's a few pine cones short of a fir tree." Hilarity in a sentence. Read Jonathan Stroud, The Bartimaeus Trilogy.

Make time stop

The thing about Italian is that there are quite a few parallels between itself and English vocabulary-wise and when you look at the word, you can kind of tell what it means, but when they speak, that's when it comes out completely foreign.

Training today was kinda crap because we were short of two players, one who went MIA and another who had a column to write. With a big game next week, it was disappointing.

I've been running crazylike for the last two days and it feels like it should be Friday tomorrow - a day of rest and sleeping in late, but it's only Wednesday.

I have a psychometry seminar tomorrow. I don't really know why it's three hours long, but if, at the end of that time, I'm told that I should be a gardener/nurse/door-oiler, I'm going to want my money back.

Mixed reactions

The finance sector is filled with people who know what they want, when they want it, and how to get it. I got a faceful of investment bankers and financier wannabes (me included) today at the Citigroup Day on Campus. Great stuff.

We won our match today. That makes it 2/2, not counting the one we had to forfeit due to a lack of netball posts. They were too busy to schedule a rematch but wanted to schedule a friendly instead. Sure. Today's match out at Bacon's College was incredible and like the last game, we had to dig deep and managed to claw our way back to even in the fourth quarter and finally to edge them by one goal at 17-16. We face the league leaders next Monday - LSE 5ths. They have a massive goal difference in the right way and if we do fall behind, I doubt we'll be able to catch up.

MSN has been crap beyond crap. Is everyone getting signed out as much as I am? I barely last two minutes.

Rudy sent me a How much is your blog worth link and mine turns out at around $2,000ish, a piddling amount compared to Dawn Yang's at $75,000. It pays to be controversial and possibly plasticized. Heh heh. Grade 1 corniness only comes from extended habitation with the masters. Ahem.

I have a DMT meeting tomorrow and haven't done anything which is why I need to cut this short and wake up early tomorrow.

Random acts of goodness

What kind of sadist sets a 10am deadline? On a Monday as well! Either way it saw us scampering to uni at 9.45pm at the risk of frostbite. Uni is creepy any time after dark, but security was surprisingly lax for all the trouble they've gone through to hand out ID card holders and check passes.

After reading Rudy's post about Dawn Whatshername I was naturally intrigued (for a better sounding 'kaypo') and after squinting at her picture for five minutes trying to determine what was so weird looking about her face, Weng capered over and quickly declared that she is infact not 'hawt'.

Other interesting news today: Rudy concluded that the parcel he was supposed to send containing protective card sleeves has not arrived because it was probably detained at British customs on account of also containing a DVD.

Tish's eBay obsession means we'll be expecting 2nd hand presents this Christmas. In fact, if he waits 'til after Christmas, I'm sure there'll be a whole bunch of people trying to offload their unwanted gifts, and almost brand new too. He says, "It's the finest goods the internet has to offer." This coming from the guy who, in a bargain frenzy, purchased 150 ballpoint pens.

Brilliant. Tish, you know where I'm getting your Christmas present - the RM1.99 store.

Slip a word in sideways

It's felt like the longest week, and I've given in four times to the lure of DotA, which is probably why I've had to spend most of this wekeend working on my Energy paper. The urgency is inspiring.

And so is playing Bridge with Godwin and Lester. They turn it into a crazy, hysterically funny card game with lots of shouting and roaring. It brings out the Mr. Hyde in each of them. I look forward when the session reconvenes - possibly tomorrow.

This coming week's going to feel even longer I fear, what with a whole bunch of career talks on Monday and Wednesday, a match Monday evening, practice of Saturday, and Tish's birthday this weekend. Or is it next...I forget. (Only kidding T)

To: The financial recruiters

Re: Job application

Dear Sir/Madam,

I know nothing about finance, equities or trading and even less about investment banking, but please hire me because I want to earn as much as you do.

Yours faithfully,
Ashley See


I haven't but the job applications are already getting to me. I have to start soon. There are so many other things I have to start soon actually, like the other 70% of the paper that's due Monday. And as I stand on the brink of another long Thursday, I am wishing I got more sleep. Wishing, but not regretting because there are some things in life that are so worth it, like DoTA. Whee.

It's so cold now. Two weeks ago it was shorts and flip flops and now nothing seems enough.

Feeling slow

It's been a day of mixed fortunes, little victories in C++ being offset by progressively harder Italian. I should've guessed that being at IC means you're rarely ahead of the class in whatever discipline, there's always someone brighter and bolder leading the way and you have to drop your 'top of the class' tag of highschool and be prepared to shoulder 'mediocrity'.

It's not a bad thing, for one you aren't always pestered by other students for tutorial answers or to form study groups and the shock wore off soon after first year. Then again, deparment-wise that's understandable, everyone comes from different educational backgrounds, although it seems that four As at A-levels isn't so much the preferred qualification of secondary education as the bare minimum, and no one really starts on equal terms. Some can build and rebuild all kinds of engines from scratch, while others possess supernatural levels of mathematical ability (since I don't have either talent, I obviously struggle).

But in beginner's Italian? Mg. The reason I decided to go with Italian, aside from slacking away my whole summer and not picking up a sufficient level of French, was that by starting at the beginning, everyone's supposed to be at the same level. I should've been more wary having been suitably intimidated by the obvious experience in European language the rest of the class possessed in terms of level-gazillion French right at the start of term, but all of a sudden I'm still level 1 Italian and they're jabbering away in it like a second language (or third or fourth in some cases).

Unbelieveable.

I'm fully determined to get there though. Once I get this tutorial (unforunately the first of many) out of the way, I'm going to study pages 1-40 of my textbook and work on not getting left behind.

Too tired to be frustrated

C++ is a terrible, terrible programme. Writing programmes in general means translating an idea into English, then into a programming sort of mindset, and finally into code that doesn't seem to relate to anything.

It sends you on these highs and lows that totally drive you crazy. Every line that's bug-free brings a rush and when the entire programme doesn't do what you want it to, and you realise you have to read through all that code to see exactly what you did wrong, you sink to these miserable lows.

Thank goodness there's Branden, who seems to know everything there is to know about programming and computers.

My cousin's getting married this weekend. It's so wonderful welcoming new people into the family, and Doris is such a sweetheart. I think that leaves me next, kind of. Generation-wise. And on both sides of the family. Mg, what a revelation.

Sixteen hours nonstop

CJ's birthday was yesterday, so there was a bit of a gathering last night after they got back from dinner, where we Taboo-ed until about half eleven and then started dota-ing at 2am (officially) to finish at quarter to four. It took us a good two hours to sort out connection problems because the router seemed to be acting up a little. It was great though, but that session coupled with a three hour stint earlier in the afternoon has just about used up all of my allocated game time for the weekend. It's work from here on in.

Then there was netball practice this morning on about five and a half hours of sleep. I really hope we get to put together a second team, it would be a shame to waste so much enthusiasm.

According to Rudy, I'm a wannabe-novelist, so I'll stop trying to get my life published for now. I need a nap anyway.

Aiieee!!!

What a night. I had to do some serious catching up but with XX on your side, it's hard not to win - he is that good. For the first game, he was on the opposing team and screaming instructions at me and I'm screaming things back at him. Phenomenal stuff, I want to DoTA like him.

I'm still riding the adrenaline high. I have achieved many things tonight:

1. I don't panic that much anymore and can muster some form of control even when my hit bar is flashing dark red.
2. I've learnt how to use my spells in the right combo (I'm still really specialist characterwise but it's a start)
3. I got to level 19 in a game, at last
4. I only died 8 times in 45 mins of play

Woot! Wait for the weekend!

What day is it?

It's a Wednesday night. I should be worrying about my interim report due next Friday. Instead I find myself finishing off a movie I had started on 2 days ago - "2009: Lost memories".

*insert appropriate laugh and finger pointing*

Right now you're probably thinking, that sounds gay. I don't blame you, I thought so too when my friend introduced it to me. I think skeptical would be the word. I recall the first 10 minutes or so was spent laughing in disbelieve of how right I was.

...30mins later...

This isn't too bad...hmm....

...2 day intermission, and 1 hour later...

It's a pretty good movie =) And a Korean one too, hence get a good copy with accurate subtitles. This is to prevent mild confusion, refer to Rudy's blog - the relevant post is there somewhere. Final verdict - Just watch it. The first impressions are somewhat misleading =p but I guarantee you, if you're looking for a movie to watch on a rainy Wednesday night, this is the one for you.

Zooming across many miles to the city that is London... My other half has succeeded in reviving the bane/(worship?) of students that is Warcraft3: DotA. At the moment this is the situation,

1 female + many alcohol-induced-testosterone-high males = *gasp* I should be worried.

instead...

1 female + many alcohol-induced-testosterone-high males + DotA = *gasp* They better include me this weekend =D

I wish I was there. *sigh*

p.s. My time stamp is wrong. I had no choice. It was to put my post first =D

Not about work

There's plenty of that around, we don't really need to talk about it, so here's some other stuff instead.

The copy of DoTA I lent to my neighbours has apparently made its way around 88 and now everyone's hooked. Of course the competition is not equal, what with some extremely experienced players being able to play cohesively on international servers while the rest of us (mostly me) run around the map like chickens.

I've discovered that without practice I'm most likely never going to get over the tendency to panic whenever I'm attacked and I find myself still trying to run from the attacker without first selecting my hero, a task which proves extremely difficult to survive. But that's okay, because people are still nice enough to let me be on their team. I haven't proved too major a liability as yet.

Then there's football. I would need eight pairs of eyes to watch all the Champions' League matches because European football is amazing. I want to watch every single match in real time and all the goals all at the same time. Ah, what greed.

There's more FF this weekend but after last week's utterly utterly demoralizing selection where every single player lost their respective games, almost everyone except N'Zogbia, I feel horribly disinclined to pick another team.

DoTA tonight!

Shocking

Right here.

Another match unplayed

I'm about 16 hours late, but Happy Halloween.

I spent last night walking around zone 2 (along a massive cemetery, I might add) with the rest of the girls looking for the courts. It was a home game so technically they were our courts, but since we've never seen them, our biggest concern was that the lighting would be inadequate. As it turned out, lighting was not a problem, but the evening would've worked out better had there been netball posts and nets.

It was a real shame we didn't get to play. I feel even worse for Queen Mary 4ths who travelled even further than us to get there. I really hope we can reschedule instead of forfeiting.

Happy birthday to Lydia, who turns 21!

A glimmer of hope

When Weng has to jump in and write something, you know that the frequency and quality of my posts are fading fast. Desperate times call for desperate measures, one of which seems to be called 'Weng's corner'. I made him guest blogger almost two years ago and I think it's high time he started contributing. I'm quite relieved actually, he's pretty entertaining if you give him half a chance.

I've always thought of Weng as a suppressed spirit for the following reasons:

1. He used to study Econs and Management
2. Now he's studying Econs and Finance
3. He reads FT in his spare time
   
4. He jumps at every opportunity to make something with colorful bits of card and glue
5. He air drums
6. He actually likes to goofy-dance a lot for someone who claims he doesn't dance

This should get much more interesting

Watch this space...

That's right, watch this space. I have decided right now at 9:17pm, a new 'Weng's corner' shall be established. At the moment, I have but all of three posts (including this one...hmm, I think it's three).

This (my resolution to blog) is partly driven by the fact that my other half has recently been 'busy'. Busy = noticeably less postings. QED by Rudy. Reconfirmed by Ash.

What i'm going to talk about, I have absolutely no clue...Southampton isn't exactly happening EXCEPT that a "world class research laboratory" on campus just blew up early Sunday morning. Cause of fire yet unknown. Search on BBC:England for more info. Approximate rebuild cost, 25million quid. *choke*

AND because it so happens to be opposite my Economics department/building, my department has been closed until further notice. All lectures and tutorials scheduled to be held inside are therefore cancelled. Unfortunately, I have no lectures or tutorials in my building =( *argh*

FT headlines: Healthier cereals help Kellogg's bottom line

lol.

It's been a while

I think it's really sad when good friends have to resort to small talk.
How've you been, how's work, how's uni?
And when asked, you struggle for an answer that they could possibly relate to.
Oh y'know, it's been tough, long hours, so many deadlines. How about you?
And you wish you could've told them every high
Yea, remember that project I was telling you about? We're ahead of schedule, can you believe it?!
or low since you last saw them.
There's this person who's been on my back about everything, it's really bugging me.
But instead you talk about other small things.
The weather's been freezing lately eh?
And other small things.
So how're the applications going?
And you only call each other when you really really need to, like when you're angry
Omg, I heard that...did you really say those things?!
Or when you need something
Gosh, you know I actually need a favour.
And I guess we don't have the time to call and say
Hey I was just thinking about you, I've missed you
I wish it weren't so.
Right, ttyl.

A wasted weekend

This is by far the worst week of FF, officially. I have 22 points! Omg!

Yesterday was pretty depressing all round. Crap weather (I think) or it just could've been my mood. Most probably my mood.

I realise again that humour is such a rare commodity that it's missing in many people and their egos are just there to get them upset. I mean it's a joke told two years ago, and definitely not directed at you, now see if you can fit your head through the door on the way out.

The Nottingham netball format is knockout this year. What a retarded system. Yes, let's travel four hours to play 16 minutes of netball. Now I know how the basketball guys feel.

Argh. (Insert profanity).

We win

When I thought I would never be playing this much netball, it turns out that the training and the matches never seem to end. In explanation of "the pain starts Tuesday", my tagline of the week on MSN, Tuesday is training night and match day is usually right after, which means it hurts to hell and back come Thursday.

We won our match yesterday against RVC who have to be the most sporting team I've ever played against in any sport. They gave us oranges at half time and sent us to and from the train, and they were just so nice about us beating them. If we'd lost, they'd've probably only got a sullen handshake out of me.

But winning didn't put me on such a high. It was satisfying but not mindblowing. We played hard but there were a lot of mistakes as well, mistakes I hope we'll manage to put away come the next game on Monday night. RVC were as new as us in a way so the next matches'll probably only get harder.

And the refs were kinda fair. The toss-ups were going the Vets' way as were the replayed fouls but they weren't blatantly unfair, it could've been worse.

My sister's backup course is Mech Eng (good choice, top course in the country). Imperial College has been rated 5th in the world according to the Times publication of technological institutions, awesome stuff. Talk about collegiate pride.

At the end of the walkway

Huxley is like a warren. One of those nightmarish places where every narrow, door-lined corridor you turn down looks exactly like the one before. The windows are dingy and high up and the classrooms are small and claustrophobic filled with these oversized tables that are impossible to get around. The doors have a pane of frosted glass with a tiny unfrosted circle in the centre for you to peer through, a little like those high-risk wings for the terminally insane.

Huxley is the place where they teach math and computer science and it is apparently the place where they keep the girls. And so many of them too.

Fiesty buggers

I have just spent an hour and a half working on ONE MSD question, even though I had my housemates in the struggle along with me, it wasn't a particularly enjoyable 90minutes, so if you have a machine that looks like a box on four springs, do NOT call us. Or at least me, because the ever resilient Godwin is still at it.

The ant infestation worsens. They got into my beautiful loaf of crusty white UNOPENED bread. These ants are amazing. You never catch them in transit but they're always there, crawling on your plate, on the wall in front of you, in your food, or drowned in your cup of water. Argh. Bloody ants. Die you fiends.

"Where's our washing machine?" We ask.
"Be patient and hope." He says.

mg.

Gripe

I'm lazy to write because I'm just too lazy to think. Don't worry, it's like that for various reports as well.

Every two weeks or so I go through a homesick phase. I really miss my dog. Not because I love my dog more than the rest of my family, but because wherever she is, the rest of them are too. I look forward to Christmas.

There's this redemption offer on Enrich points that got us really excited, but apparently it's not applicable to our flight back this Christmas. That's really crap. We could've been in Business but we're down in row 40something near the toilets instead. Should the back of the plane fall off, we're there. I guess I should be thankful that we even have a flight home in December. I guess. 12 hours next to the toilet.

I have a lot of work to do as usual, but I'm not working fast enough I think. I waste far too much time telling myself what I should be doing, so everything'll creep up and bite me in the ass in about two weeks, at which point I'll be really annoyed.

Hobbies: ant squashing

We're two days shy of a month into our tenancy and we still don't have a washing machine or a vacuum cleaner, Godwin has had to improvise with the coffee table because his desk still hasn't come, and the kitchen door has not been fixed.

The lady in the office plays solitaire all day, the porter is always watching t.v. or making a move to go and sleep, and the cleaning lady that mans the desk when the porter is resting doesn't have a clue either.

And we're being attacked by pharoah ants. The pest people set up poison in the kitchen, so the ants have moved into my room, and although we don't actually see them attacking Weng's candy or marmite biscuits, I've nevertheless stopped bringing food into my room, and hope that some people will leave their candy and biscuits in the kitchen maybe...ahem.

I'm still here

A two hour nap yesterday afternoon left me a couple of hours in bed last night with time to think in that half asleep phase when your best ideas come to you. Because I was half asleep however, I've forgotten all of them.

A round up of yesterday's happenings:

Goldsmiths 2nds forfeited the match. Although it was just in time to save us making the journey there, we were really disappointed, but a win is a win. Next week we're playing at Potters Barn which is in the north and outside Zone 6.

I was flicking through the ULU netball leagues and the Medics' teams are a lot stronger than the IC ones. Also given that IC 1sts were beaten 33-9 in the Premier Div, I am slightly worried. IC 3rds have finished in the bottom half of the div 4 table for the last couple of years.

Another win to Liverpool, great stuff. Too bad we're struggling to figure out the Premiership.

Much to do

Fresher's flu has hit Weng for the third year in a row. The poor guy spent most of the weekend complaining about how crappy he was feeling. Thankfully a few more days of rest should see it out okay though.

Back to another Monday with another list of errands to run. Planning for the future and getting my butt in gear about job applications is proving harder than anticipated. My lit. research paper is a bit start-stop, my sustainable engineering paper hasn't started at all, and the assignment list grows longer and longer. Woot.

With a twinge of regret

Wow, another church Sunday as Godwin likes to call them. It sure has come around really quickly. Weekends exist in other dimensions, so all that shows up in this one is a hint of a break, something completely insubstantial and made up by people to stop Friday running full tilt into Monday.

It's all in your head and you start to realise the conspiracy when Saturday becomes a wisp of a memory, a mere suggestion of day, and all you spend Sunday doing is worrying about Monday.

But I do remember last night, and I think all the effort put into arranging it really paid off, so well done you guys! I'd also like to thank our seniors for letting everyone eat KFC, drop crisps, and drink beer all over their lounge.

I think football nights are gonna be awesome. Champions League this week!

Surprise surprise

I remember glancing through the first tutorial of the year with a mildly interested 'is it even possible?' before shutting the handout away in my file.

Now I'm staring at that tutorial and the additional ones we received this week in blank misery. Ohshitohshitohshitohshit, was the best I could come up with last night, and the filtered grey of a new morning hasn't improved matters much.

It's also supposed to be Skirt Day. Yes, the female Mech Engineers have to make it a point to remind ourselves and our colleagues that we are, indeed, female. I've already seen pockets of resistance, as they throw off the yoke of two years of hoodies, jeans, and sneakers, coming to college a bundle of defiance wrapped in taffeta scarves and dainty slippers.

So excuse me while I rummage in my cupboard for a wearable skirt and then work up a headache accessorizing it. It also happens to be the coldest day of the week.

Run again?! Run again!!

Netball training was fun. I realised how unfit I was when, after the 12th dash down the length of the court, my heart was making this peculiar humming noise as it worked to push oxygen to my flagging muscles.

I made 3rds if that's what you're wondering, and yes, even though there are only three teams, I'm damn happy just to have a chance to run my legs off. And we get a cute kit. The fight to get into 2nds begins I suppose. We almost beat them today actually. Great stuff. First match is next Friday.

The Notebook

I just finished it, finally, and omg is it a movie to watch.

I started crying twenty minutes in and didn't stop until the very end. It renews your belief in true love and devotion in such an impatient, cynical world. What a story. I definitely shouldn't've watched it alone. +sigh+

Weng, baby, I love you so much.

Note worthiness

The literature project's taking off nicely, and I think I'm really starting to settle back into the swing of college, even if all the classes are still overflowing with students. I'm waiting for people to hurry up and decide so I don't have to stand through another lecture. It's hard to concentrate on what the guy's saying when your feet are throbbing at you. At least if you sit, you only get a numb butt half way through reminding you to switch cheeks. (Too much was said there, perhaps.)

Italian was good fun today. The excitement of learning a new language probably isn't going to let me think negatively of the class until I start to really struggle with coursework. I wonder how much they can really make you write because apparently we get our first piece two weeks in, which is about five contact hours away. That's really intimidating actually.

Anyhow, we're still riding on the good mood of our porter and the absent mind and sometimes absent body of our flat manager for the furniture, a copy of the contract, and the washing machine. At least the microwave came today. Yay.

I have no book to read. No, that's not true. I actually have several.

I have a book entitled 'High performance materials in aerospace' and another dusty tome bearing the words 'Engineering composite materials'. And then there's Weng's copy (which he left) of 'Daily Bread' and lastly my Italian textbook, 'Contatti 1'.

The first two are so old looking I'm afraid to check that they're even written in English, and Contatti's in Italian (no shit), so this is like God's way of telling me I should spend more time in spiritual contemplation I think. It's not too bad, I'm already way ahead of Weng on our attempts at Bible study, even without a Bible. Aha.

And I watched two episodes of CSI today. I find the series so morbidly fascinating I can't help but put myself through the agony of another wide-eyed, stare at the shadows all-nighter.

Exhaustion is a constant

Weng's timetable changed, giving him Fridays off. Given that he'll be in London more, we've set up my extra desk to give him his own study area.

We're still chasing the porter for the other pieces of furniture. This country has a "I'll see what I can do later" culture, "later" indicating a time frame of the next week to within the next two months, and "I'll see" being a vague promise of "later", which really isn't very promising at all.

I want to watch the Blackadder DVD that Ti lent me but my computer's so backdated it can't play DVDs, and Weng's computer is simply refusing to cooperate.

It's a beautiful Sunday though.

3.5cm too short

Cheryl, if you want to be a pilot that's great. You're also right on the grounds that you should finish your degree first and then see if you're still game for it because I tell you, when I graduate I probably won't feel like doing much - I'm so tired!

But about you, not me, maybe the four years will give you some time to grow and maybe you will, although 3.5cm is quite a bit to expect. You can talk about becoming a pilot again after you graduate, okay?

Love Ash

P.S. Did Chay put you up to this?!

A birthday wish

I'm posting this now on the assumption that it will eventually be read on the right day at the right time in the right time zone.

A very special happy birthday to Sean and Rudy who are always so accommodating in my moments of despair, boredom, frustration, and happiness; who never tell people their right age and make themselves seem one year older such that I don't even know how old they really are; and who grow more dear to me with every passing day.

I love you guys! Have a great day!

Attack of the squirrels: Part II

The first week's been easy but long. I've been mildly stressing about my 3rd year projects but now that they're settled I feel relieved. Thankfully I managed to get the titles I wanted and I look really forward to working with my hover-board team.

Now I need to think about my option courses. Fluid mechanics is at the bottom of the list above C++ and microprocessers only because it's taught in English, even if just barely. I'm hoping the rest of the courses work out so I won't have to do it.

I really cannot wait for my language classes to start, and whether or not I get a place in project management is still uncertain, but it's that or politics.

Okay, I'm done boring you with 3rd year Mech Eng. I do have a good story though, about Weng and squirrels (again).

Weng's still harboring a slight phobia from when a squirrel assaulted him in the first year, so I have to admit I was feeling a little uneasy when we sat down with our lunch in Kensington Gardens only to be greeted by seven or eight inquisitive squirrels and pigeons that converged on our bench. The pigeons lost interest pretty quickly but several squirrels felt it necessary to climb onto the back of the bench to get a better look at what we were eating.

When they saw no food was being volunteered, they quickly shifted their attention to a huddle of tourists that were sharing their bag of Cheetos. Squirrels love Cheetos and gladly obliged when they were encouraged to climb up the tourists' legs to get the proffered kernel.

Weng was not so happy when the tourists left and one enterprising squirrel tried to pull the same trick on him in hopes of something yummy. So there we were being intimidated by a squirrel who had launched itself onto Weng's knee and was chittering a demand for some of his bento.

Thankfully the squirrel left before Weng had to take action i.e. swat the poor animal, which I'm glad he didn't because it might've got messy had the squirrel decided to call in other squirrelly reinforcements.

Kensington Gardens is a beautiful park in the classy Kensington area with award-winning greenery and serene paths, an oasis of peace in the middle of a bustling city. It boasts a lake frequented by swans, rolling lawns, and a petting zoo of vermin.

I could use a little fuel myself

There are quite a few courses to choose from this year but since I'm crap at programming, half of them have been effectively eliminated.

Guillotine has finally come (yay Royal Post) but none of the furniture or appliances we were promised by the flat manager (boo flat manager). Our neighbours across the hall have kindly let us borrow their washing machine.

Year 3 is pretty much clicking into place as classes get pinned down and timetables and projects get sorted out.

I'm so tired from all the running around and there are still so many more things to do. With what little energy there is spent dashing to and fro there's even less for my brain to run on so I've spent the last few days stoning heavily.

Weng and I have been trying to play DotA against the computer but the two of us can't even take out a single A.I. hero on normal.

I gotta head out again. Mg, so tired.

The best I can come up with

Freshers' Fair was just a crush of shouting people.
Third year is bloody intimidating but sounds really exciting nevertheless.
I've never been so blogstuck as the last few days. I think I need that creative writing course.

Play with me

I can't stop thinking about DoTA which is completely wrong because there's so much to do. Then again, given it's a Saturday in England, nothing's open so I guess I could spare some time obsessing about the game.

Otherwise the move's gone smoothly and I'm quite happily settled into Queens Gate. It's like a Singaporean house here, you can't leave or enter the building without seeing a familiar smile. I need to find gaming buddies.

My cough's been seesawing between gut wrenching tears and almost nothing, but now I've got my hands on the right kind of medicine, I should be okay. So don't worry Cher. I hope you get better too.

The anticipation of a new year, a new beginning is killing me. I have a feeling the enthusiasm's going to last all of the first introductory lecture on Tuesday morning. I've already got news of my very first Italian lesson. I don't know where the Huxley building is and where am I supposed to buy Contatti 1?

It's that time of the year

I keep telling myself it's just a case of volume, not weight, and I wonder how big your handcarry can be. Another suitcase would be helpful.

I'm crap at packing. My dad repacks for me here, and Weng packs for me over there. I can never make it fit perfectly and from what I've seen so far, my stuff is definitely not going to fit. While I try to solve this increasingly pressing problem, my dog has renewed her hatred of suitcases and has been glaring at it whenever she follows me into the room.

I'm also nursing a bad cough courtesy of my sister, not getting enough sleep, and trying to remember what errands I still have to run. My mum's been shoving 'a gentle infusion of raw ginger and honey' down our throats in a bid to stop us from trying to hack up our lungs. It's really foul tasting.

I fly tomorrow.

They've got little bows

Finding that one accessory that transforms your outfit from drab to fab is like the ultimate quest, and I think I've found one such sacred item in the form of a pair of shoes.

I feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Nothing irks me more than going to the shopping mall with a plan and coming out empty handed.

I am at peace.

Stomp

It was as if the most organic sounds from our everyday lives had been taken and forced into a lattice of pure noise. Listening to the pulsing rhythms and trying to pick out the interplay between all the musicians was like looking at a painting for a split second and trying to admire the care of each stroke and stepping back to absorb the overall effect at the same time. There was a lot of aural squinting going on.

My favorite act, if you've seen it, was with the sinks. So cool.

Two hours of raw energy has left me dying to turn over the pails in the toilet, grab my mum's bamboo frying slice and bang away to my heart's content, but I predict that my effort will be less warmly applauded.

Headlines

On the international front: I'm relieved that Hurricane Rita didn't make the damage from Hurricane Katrina any worse. I'm still wondering how New Orleans is going to drain though. Maybe drain is not such a good word because it looks physically impossible. I didn't know the city was below sea-level. Evaporate might be better.

On the church dedication: it totally owned.

On fantasy football: that totally owned too. Pedersen double, Murphy double, and Owen. I eagerly await my points. (Tish, watchout!)

On real football: +sigh+ ...good thing Cisse's there to save them all the time.

On packing: Not looking forward to it. My dad looked at the stuff I had bought to take back and he asked me when I'd like to start prioritizing.

On stressing about leaving becausetherearesomanythingstodostillarghwheredidthetimego: High

And it starts again

We're about halfway through the mass exodus of Malaysian students as they head back to the UK to start another year of lectures, parties, and exams, and not necessarily in that order either. I bet the flights are full of them, each one dangerously overloaded as I'm sure I'll be in a week's time.

Summer started off real slow but ended amazingly as Evan and Ade continued to show us how much side-splitting laughter they bring into our lives. It's just not the same otherwise.

I'm not looking forward to all the setting up that goes on at the start of term. There's usually a lot money involved as well, and I get unnecessarily stressed out. But while one part doesn't want to leave the security and good food of home, the other part of me can't wait to go back.

So to everyone who's left, I'm glad you arrived safely, and to everyone about to leave, I hope you have a quick, safe flight. This year holds so much promise and so much of the unknown, so best of luck. I know God'll walk with you on whatever decisions you make.

Let me hear you!! HYAH!! poot.

I don't see many guys in workout classes. I wonder if girls are just less self concious about jumping around like idiots or whether we think we look cool no matter what. Or maybe we don't think.

I wanted to throw up after today's combat class - something I haven't felt since spending every night in the pool under the whistle of a Russian coach.

The guy didn't build it up, he started at fast and worked up (very quickly) to suicidal. He would yell 'Level 1!!' shortly followed by 'Level 2! Hup!' and then 'Level 3! C'MOOORRRNN!!', at which point I was like there's no level 3, I don't think there's even a level 2, this is all I got. Gnhhh.

An uppercut is the most embarassing move. Ever. Closely followed by a back kick. Mg.

Quotable quotes

Ewan says:

"Girls are probably really good at navigational stuff if they just put their minds to it; but I guess they don't think navigating is all that important and are too busy thinking about other worldly matters anyway."

Chay says:

"I get around."

Hashing down memory lane

I was just thinking, my favorite movie line is "You have six smiles..." from Win a date with Tad Hamilton, after which he proceeds to explain all her smiles. So schweet.

Then there was today, which has been one of the rainiest Mondays I can remember, oh, and I saw Ewan Harney.

Who is Ewan Harney? A classmate from the tiny town of Miri and even tinier Shell school - the pale, scrawny kid. He managed to get a hold of Chay who got a hold of me. Who is Chay? Someone I used to carpool with, also from Miri and also from Piasau, who was really fat and had a bad haircut (which was in at the time, he claims). Fortunately both turned out good, and it was incredible seeing them after so many years.

It also turns out that I wasn't the only obsessive sociopath that has spent a great deal of time Googling whoever we could remember in a desperate attempt to get back in touch with primary school. Isn't that reassuring? Our combined search didn't turn up many people though, so for the sake of others who'll also spend an idle Sunday afternoon Googling old friends, here I am: Ashley See from Piasau School, Miri.

He showed me pictures. Mg, I wanted to cry. The Shell Camp is exactly the same, and so's the school and the Boat Club! Except that they've built a tall green fence around the entire expatriate settlement. Oh well, you gotta expect them to move with the times and the level of paranoia.

There was a lot of 'do you remember'. I never imagined I'd be sitting at Devi's corner with Ewan and Chay comparing memories and fitting missing pieces into each others' recollections. Boy were those naive times, really good naive times.

Thank God!

I can chew. Full masticatory ability right here. You have no idea how good it felt to wake up this morning and realise that enough of the swelling's eased up to let me work my jaw. Oh the simple things.

I'm so grateful, I've decided to rename my space. 'As good as it gets' is a little too negative, and change is always good. Deep fried everything, here I come!

My mother asked my sister and I to clean out the fridge today. Which brings me to Chinese fridges.

Chinese cooking's not like English or French cooking where you can do anything with some meat, milk, butter, salt, pepper, and those neat little bottles of herbs. Nope.

Chinese cooking demands bottles and bottles of preserved meats, vegetables, and seafood, processed sauces from meats, vegetables, and seafood, bundles, sealed bags, and boxes of herbs, and various soy derivatives. Mg, it is a chore to clean.

There were oily, starchy fingerprints all over the place because not only is Chinese cooking extensive, it's also fast (generally), and my mum's a good, but messy, cook.

Then there was the crusty stuff. Crusty stuff in all shades of brown were adhered to the shelves, and, against all laws of physics, on the underside of the shelves too. What you couldn't wipe off, you had to scrape with your nails, which was a lot.

We found a petrified lychee, a shrivelled up lotus-wrapped rice dumpling (also fondly known as 'zhang'), and a couple more misshapen lumps that were unidentifiable, not to mention lots of murky looking jars that were way past the printed expiry dates.

Ew. I guess what Mum hasn't realised yet is that when she asked us to clean the fridge, we only cleaned the fridge. The freezer half +shudder+ is another story for another day.

But I'm hungry, not to be deterred by what I found in the fridge, five days of agony and nothing but soup and water has put a real edge on my hunger. So I'll be back later.

In the throes of self pity

Wisdom teeth are a genetic throw back from when we had to eat branches. Now they're nothing more than four irritating lumps of enamel that cost you thousands in dental fees and hours and hours of time wasted in painkiller-induced agony, because our steadily shrinking jaws are only good for processed food.

Painkillers make a big pain a slightly smaller pain. They don't make it disappear entirely.

I'm so depressed. There's so many different kinds of foods I want to be able to enjoy in my last couple of weeks here and I can't. The most I can manage aside from lots and lots of water is lots and lots of soup.

I have a serious craving for fries and chilli sauce. Crab. Butter-fried prawns. Calamari. Deep fried wan tan. Omg. Rice. Steak. Do you know how difficult it is?!

It is done

I'm so glad I was under. The SJMC daycare staff and anaesthetist are so professional. I didn't even realise I had fallen asleep until I woke up with an almighty pain, a crappy tasting mouth, and an icepack wrapped around my jaw. So much better than ten days ago even if it did take me awhile to fight off the wooziness.

And I got to take my teeth home.

The two upper wisdom teeth seem to have been pulled out quite nicely, which would explain why there's hardly any swelling in those areas, but the lower one had to come out in pieces, so it's back to being a lopsided hamster for a while.

Last night was so much fun. We haven't been to Ade's house since year 10 or something. Good food, good company, and bridge.

Anchovies@Modestos

Lunch with Rudy was great. After so many years, he's still got such a beautiful face. Pity about the hair though. Lol.

I can only hold wit slanging matches online because it gives me time to think. At lunch yesterday I was reduced to "shut up" and "whatever". Oh the shame. But I do have a shiny 50p piece sitting in my wallet, so I guess we know who won in the end.

I really suck at DoTA still. I need to research a character and figure out the best way to play that particular character. Sneaky ambushers. Grr.

I took my suitcase out this morning and my dog saw and she got very upset. I think she's still sitting in the spare room glaring at it.

I managed to get my hands on music score software, thanks to my brother. I should've known you'd be able to get it here. Malaysian pirates will copy anything and everything if there's a hint of profit.

110905

Happy 2nd Anniversary, Weng. Two years, has it really been that long?

I know you've probably felt every single month of the 24 we've been together, but thanks for sticking by me and watching out for me all the time, and for teaching me to relax and enjoy the ride that is life.

So here's to the football, the computer games, the choir practices, the long walks, the corny jokes, the travelling, the obsessive neatness, and every single household chore we do together.

I love you.

A 90degree learning curve

CBC rocks. Left, right, and centre.

I really really hope the dedication goes well because we're working so hard for His glory, and the best part is that all the rehearsals and planning are so much fun.

Music is like a foreign language. If you don't practice writing, playing or arranging, it doesn't come easily anymore, much like I discovered at 1am last night, which resulted in an embarrassingly messy practice session this afternoon when I transposed all their parts in the wrong directions. The musicians were more than patient though, and a guy who lectures in music at one of the local universities was nice enough to offer advice and give the project some direction. I've learnt so much from the experience.

What I think

How I wish I could belt out songs like Carrie Underwood. Have you seen her sing? Absolutely wonderful.

I have to say though, I wasn't always like this. When I was little, probably too little know any better, I would oblige my adoring legions of fans (mostly aunties) with highly tasteful renditions of "I'm a little teapot" with choreography.

Then puberty hit, and suddenly you become conscious of everything. Throw in a couple of music teachers who cried in exasperation, and I find myself listening to other people sing with complete confidence, believing that they're really that good. I don't admire their singing, I admire their self-belief. The simple fact that they believe they're right on key and that everyone else loves hearing them sing.

+sigh+

Lack of confidence is crippling, to the point that even your own boyfriend has to work his tactfulness to the extremes to tell you that it's really not good and no one should give you a mike. Ever.

Disclaimer: I dramatize. Weng's been nothing short of supportive of my choral efforts. The tactfulness part is true though.