war, famine, pestilence and death

2007-01-27T10:53:00.000-05:00

Kiwi!

dirty little secret

2006-02-11T07:42:00.000-05:00

kennysia wrote about girls he would go on a date with, based solely on their online persona / blog. (although he seems to know them personally, so, i dunno lah.)

well, there are people who i would not date, both male and female (if i were so inclined) based on their blogs, because while in real life they're nice enough, in their writing they come across sounding like absolutly egotistical, arrogant, self-absorbed, insufferable brats.

i think it's easy to end up like that, cos on your blog you are always king. and also, it's how the most interesting blogs are written - the style is same same but different. but like seriously man. think about what you're writing sometimes and about how it sounds.

it may be your blog, and you may be writing about yourself, but it is not always about you!!

i know i do it too though.

(and don't worry brynnie i am not talking about you. i love you!! like i love evan but i love evan less now cos SHE IS NOT ONLINE AND I WANT TO TALK TO HER.)

carnaval de quebec

2006-02-08T22:29:00.000-05:00

buying the winter carnival pass entitles me to take part in a contest, the first prize of which is: 50 voyages aller-retour en train pour 2 personnes en classe 'Confort' entre Quebec et Montreal, offerts par VIA Rail Canada (valeur de 12,000$). Ces voyages sont valides pour un an a compter du 13 fev 2006 jusqu'au 13 fev 2007.."
(50 round trips on the train, for two, between quebec and montreal, valid for a year.)

er, can you imagine going to quebec (almost) every weekend for a year??? pay me also i dowan lor. like every week go johor. but without the cheap shopping.

quebec city

2006-02-06T04:05:00.000-05:00

at lunch today:

A (french girl) (referring to item on menu): what are oignons français*?? there is no such thing in france. like french fries. why are french fries called french?
R (canadian): "french" just means "fried in oil"!!

*onion rings

for the hell of it

2006-02-03T10:28:00.000-05:00

pick on someone your own size!!

tim's seductive expression. totally cracks me up. try harder, tim.

memoirs of a geisha

posing!!

dodgy photo skillz

awww so cute.

awww so cute.

awww so (act)cute.

front view

back view

there were 12 of us who went to boston and about the same number of cameras. so when we collated our photos we found that there were sometimes 10 or so of the exact same shot. and sometimes, totally unplanned, there were shots like these, of the same things but from totally different perspectives.

we are on exchange

we are on exchange

we are on exchange

we are on exchange

i love this photo! the colours.

kiss me.

ok tim complain that all his photos here very unflattering. so this is tim (and grace) looking hot. i really like this photo. we are at the ALSA dinner in perth and we are all acting high-class. heehee.

please remain seated

2006-01-30T18:51:00.000-05:00

i've never felt out of place here, and i don't miss singapore all that much. i mean, singapore is about as western as it gets in the east. there's no culture shock or anything.
well actually, i never really felt anything about coming here. maybe it's this global cosmopolitain community thing we're all a part of. everything is different but the same.

but lately i've been starting to feel like the difference that separates us is growing wider. little things like.. the kind of chinese new year food you can buy. (seriously man, the quality here is SHIT.) or the way people speak. like how someone asked me where i was from because, and only because, i said "queue" and not "line". these are small things, petty things, and they hardly make up a culture. but still.

yet at the same time i am starting to realise i belong. which is different from just being not out of place. today i was walking on a street and i looked up and there was a huge canadian flag, floodlit against the fog, and somehow it just felt.. right.

i am no longer a visitor here, like in one of those pictures where there are all these people who look like a group but if you tilt your head slightly one of them looks different, in a way you can't put your finger on.

and in a way i can't put my finger on, i know that i have arrived.

paper clips

2006-01-29T19:24:00.000-05:00

i don't understand why

1. people are surprised when they learn that english is my first language
2. people are amazed when they find out i speak another language (as in, not english or french), i.e. chinese

so what do they expect me to speak? french??

normally i do not post twice in one day

2006-01-28T18:36:00.000-05:00

all i want to say is this:

the sound of cellos has been a motif, and i have a cello-case shaped memory in my mind.

and i want to remind myself of this:

that time in perth when tim and abel played chess standing up.

and i want to remember:

the road tonight, with the sun set behind the cross on the hill, with people strolling, with the cool blue air against my cheeks, with the soundtracks wound loosely against the tall buildings, and the tiny lights strung up yellow and red on the leafless trees.

ri for reason

2006-01-28T15:25:00.000-05:00

i feel like i have been dreaming and i wonder when i will wake up. sometimes i find myself doing something and i wonder how i got there.

yesterday i went to the library to do readings. i remember what i read (the seven levels of abstraction of contract law in the german civil code, the three theoretical schools of jurisprudence - jurisprudenz - that influenced the BGB) and what i thought (who knew germans could be so... emotional about their law) but i don't remember much about being there. what the scenery outside the window was like. who the girl i met in the toilet was. it is as if i was sleeping, and woke up with a dream.

and i leave little mental post-its along the way, in here, on my desk, for me to remember life, but soon i forget the codes i use, and i will wonder what i wanted, and i will wonder what this entry means.

i feel like i am blind and i am deaf. all of the world is right here, in this computer screen before me, and that if i turn around i will see nothing. later i am supposed to go for a party but i wonder if the people throwing it exist. do i really know them? or am i just dreaming, and will i stay in bed and go back to sleep?

if i am blind, everything lives at the tips of my fingers.

and, oh, this is the new year. and there is none of the ang pao collection, but also none of the tiresome visiting, none of the having to be nice to relatives i see once a year, none of the eating of reunion dinner leftovers in nice clothes. chinese new year is my least favourite holiday of all. it's not even like i spend the money anyway.

elections

2006-01-26T04:22:00.000-05:00

it is at this time of the night that i think about you.

today in class we (they) were talking about the canadian identity. like singapore, so much of what defines it is determined by what it is not. not america. not europe. not francophone. not anglophone. not conservative. not liberal. not rural. not urban. it is from this plethora of is nots that what is takes shape.

i think we are like that. who we are, you and i, is formed by what we are not. and what we never will be. never the stock of shared memories, never the learning each other, nor the slow falling apart. who we are, and what we are to each other, dances around an unbreachable pillar of unfamiliarity.

today i saw you looking at me, and my heart looked back.

today i saw you looking, your eyes shining in a way that i will always keep secret.

today i saw you, just when i was trying to forget.

-

hard gay teaches the kids how to cook. this is soooo funny. and soooo wrong. but it is so funny!!!!
wikipedia on hard gay.
i still can't decide if this is funny or wrong!!

this is what i think is happening (and i'm probably wrong): HG is asking kids what they can cook. he wants to cook carrots (ninjin / ニンジン)?? so finally one boy tells him he can cook carrots, which leads to some cooking-show-like segment (and check out the animation. with the wiggly dick. sooo funny. and wrong.) where he cooks "american dog carrots". the part where the kids try it is so cute and soooo funny (and not so wrong, thankfully).
and how they are doing his "ok!!!" and "fu~!!!"
SO FUNNY!!!!

j6

2006-01-23T00:08:00.000-05:00

Tell me that you're alright.
(hi, everything's great)
yeah everything is alright.
(hey, everything's fine)
please tell me that you're alright.
(hey, everything's great)
yeah everything is alright.

Hey, everything's fine.
Hey, everything's fine.
Hey, everything's fine.
Hey, everything's fine.

- everything is alright, motion city soundtrack.

-----

remember when:
studying in the library meant getting there just before 8 so we could chope tables. or else we would end up on one of those benches dotted around the school;
cutting lectures meant either sneaking out through the back gate into ghim moh, or hiding up above the hall in one of the vandalised-with-liquid-paper tables, reading some book picked at random from the library;
econs lectures were held with the science people and we would sit in the middle, at the right, while the rest of the class was in the front left, and instead of taking notes there would be another random library book, or scribbles of someone's phone number onto the handouts;
getting notes meant going up to the printing room with the smell of ink and papercuts and rubberbands, and the price was scribbled on a slip of paper stuck onto the top of the stack;
friday afternoons were long and lazy, with breaks and double lit and p.e. and drawn-out lunches in the almost empty canteen;
there would be training until the day turned cool and blue, and the ruggers would stink up the edge of the canteen near the field, and there was a sense of camaraderie - the hockey team and the soccer team and the track team and the volleyball team;
after exams meant going into town on the 111, passing through the backyards of surburbia, with us sprawled on the seats on the empty afternoon-bus, and then being spat out into the rush of blue convent pinafores and sand-coloured sackcloth and blue and white uniforms in Orchard;
mornings were spent waiting for the bell either in the concourse depression, at the round tables with the swivel chairs, or at the dark wood table near the council room.

when i think about rj i think of two things:
hot, sun-baked days, dust in the air-conditioned CT rooms and a scrabble of chairs, and a sense of restrained brightness spreading over the empty fields and hallways; and
that day after we watched regeneration during lit, which was filled with mud and death and blood and rain, and then going out and seeing how it was pouring, with water slicking the tiles in the corridors and dripping off the green handrails, turning the air moist and grey, and the scratchy-fireproof shirts rough against our skin.

and how did i EVER manage to study for hours on end without having access to the internet????

hilarious

2006-01-19T09:24:00.000-05:00

in montreal, -30 deg is nothing. snow storms are nothing.
but when it rains, roads close, and schools shut.
hilarrrrious.
of course, if i had actually gone to school yesterday (law fac is on the corner of dr penfield and peel, which is mentioned in the article) i probably wouldn't have found it so hilarious.

poivre

2006-01-15T22:48:00.000-05:00

article on the link between diet and mental health

hmm maybe i should eat fish.
hmmmmm.
sashimi...
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

chicken rice

2006-01-15T18:16:00.000-05:00

i feel like... a bird is fluttering its wings against my skin, powder soft and gentle and desperate.

last night i had a dream and it was so sad that i woke up because i was crying.

if we took a step back from our lives what would we see? pathos rises up and chokes my throat, a single question without any answer. here you are, unable to feel or see or think, and you believe you are happy. a moment of beauty followed by a lifetime of regret. where have i heard that before? however much we subscribe to the myth, the whole world can be in the room watching as your grandfather blows out the candles on his 80th birthday cake.

i am at peace. remember to get off at the sixth station, where the sea passes by the train, and the sun is dancing on the waves, and where there is nobody around.

apple juice

2006-01-11T10:55:00.000-05:00

late nights, there are smoky bars and lounges. the lights on the walls start almost to swim in the blood red shots, and faces start to blur but for the smiles. there is a shared mutual thirst skating into the woozy aftertaste of alcohol.

mornings are like ice water and the yellow classroom lights are sharp. or, like a voice scratchy from the memory of cigarettes, the cold warm air wraps itself around my head. like turning a book over, two sides, two covers, it is maybe only a little bit incoherent. the readings being discussed have been highlighted by my pen, by an unfamiliar marker, and these are the tools of a student: a silver computer, word, msn, and a muffin and hot coffee. my jacket smells slightly of cigarette smoke, the one incongruous link between the twin universes of night and morning.

learning to breathe

2006-01-09T04:06:00.000-05:00

quelle difference?

long lunches are like bone china and silver, with chopsticks of black lacquer tapering to a point, with white tablecloth and cream napkins, with crystal glasses and delicate table dressing.

towels removed and replaced every morning, silent hands that do all the work, cups filled and placed before me, clothes washed and pressed and hung ready to wear. buses and trains that pass by me, which i watch from the windows of cars. the symphony and the ballet.

gardens of palm trees and purple flowers, ponds with wooden stepping-stones, grass without weeds, and a winding pathway through it.

down comforters on a bed soft like clouds, and a set of pillows filled with feathers. and the sunlight streaming through the day curtains. the rituals and traditions of sleep, and awakening, of night and day.

the world, as it is, insulated and contained in an air-conditioned glass snow-globe, and it is my world, it is mine, mine to enjoy, mine to thrive in, mine to play with, mine to own. a snow globe without snow. from the outside the appropriate response is scorn, of its excess, of its smallness, but also of envy and longing. a world that stifles but also cocoons. because if there is no space to explore, there are no cliffs to fall from, and no traps to snare. make-believe world, show me once again your clouds and queens and silk and lace. my feet slide into your glass slippers, and they fit, perfectly, like coins dropped into the clear water of the wishing-well.

times square

2006-01-01T13:24:00.000-05:00

we waited in the cold for eight and a half hours without food or drink or toilet, suffering through rain and snow and bad live music, jostled with kiasu china tourists for lousy freebies, all so we could see this lousy thing:

(well we also saw celebrities like ryan seacrest and carson daly and mariah carey's boobs and POD and puddle of mudd and a whole bunch of other unknowns.. for a big nye party you would expect better quality but NO! you get these jokers.)

also, the ball does not drop.. it slowly descends. and it is not a ball. it is more like a marble. (although it is 6 ft in diameter)

but!

i was at times square for nye and that is funky. so there!

the last day

2005-12-31T12:17:00.000-05:00

o rose, thou art sick!
the invisible worm
that flies in the night,
in the howling storm,

has found out thy bed
of crimson joy:
and his dark secret love,
does thy life destroy.

the years accumulate and we carry them with us, and how can the new year be new when what we have in our lives is old?

christmas

2005-12-25T08:51:00.000-05:00

that night, we sat and laughed for hours. you said we would have dinner again, before the farewells, but we all knew it was one of those things that wouldn't happen, and it didn't. but to pretend we would see each other again, one more time, one last time, meant there need not be that long-drawn leave-taking.

with the lights turned low, and the shine from the makeshift tree in the corner glinting on your face, you have never been more beautiful. your voice with your words slurred together hangs in the empty room, over the tinsel and crepe decorations. it is sad and whimsical and serious all at the same time. and you, with your lips stained red by wine, will always dance in my memory the way you did, that night.

tremblant

2005-12-20T17:08:00.000-05:00

it is cold

it is windy

but it is also gorgeous!!

so pretty!

free breakfast

free newspaper

this one not free.
i am getting hungry looking at it..

dessert.

snow storm!

2005-12-16T14:16:00.000-05:00

merry christmas :)

that is a car.

mais où sont les neiges d'antan?

2005-12-16T07:53:00.000-05:00

when i finish this damn take home (24 hours, 4000 words. bloody hell.) it will be about the 100th page worth of essay i have written this semester. that makes about 20,000 words. give or take a few. or a few thousand.

i have discovered it is possible to sleep for about 2 or 3 hours every 24 hours (as in, 24 hours, sleep 3 hours, then another 24 hours)... for about 2 weeks. last night i decided to take a break and have a good sleep... but i woke up after 4 hours. :X

it is blizzarding outside. it looks awful. lawfac actually sent an email saying exams are still going on, which is bizarre on so many levels.

but it's all good because that just means fresh snow up in the mountains! where i will be! soon! after i finish this stupid take home. aaargh.

i HATE competition law. the phrases "abuse of dominant position" and "disciplining firms engaged in 'practices'" (yes, 'practices' in inverted commas, nudgenudge.) are no longer amusing.

as an aside, this is a great site: EISIL. because it provides citations for international documents. like the icc statute: "the rome statute of the international criminal court, UN Doc. A/CONF. 183/9; 37 ILM 1002 (1998); 2187 UNTS 90". (search for the document and click on 'more information' for the citation.) PERFECT. everything the red book ever needed.
never have to google citations again!

-

Donald Rumsfeld is giving the president his daily briefing. He concludes by saying: "Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed in an accident."

"OH DEAR GOD!! NO!!!" George W. Bush exclaims. "That's terrible!!" His staff sits stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as the president sits, head in hands.

Finally, the President, devastated, looks up and asks, "How many is a Brazillion??!"

WTF WTF WTF

2005-12-13T07:54:00.000-05:00

guess who's not going to go outside today..

bye bye, tookie.

2005-12-13T04:05:00.000-05:00

i am writing, inter alia, on remarque's all quiet on the western front for my law and lit paper. there are many versions of the book. the early translations were censored for the american market, and are missing several scenes.

and, of all the versions in the mcgill libraries, there are NO UNCENSORED copies. wth. someone needs to update their catalogue. so i had to go to the bookstore and fork out $25 just so i could find and quote the following: “[just] at the moment we are happier than we would be in some luxuriously appointed lavatory, white tiles and all. The most a place like that could be is hygienic; out here, though, it is beautiful." (describing using a common, open-air latrine)

why this was censored, i also dunno.

stupid americans.

-

i am so looking forward to hitting the slopes with my own skis. i can't wait i can't wait i can't wait!!

-

sometimes i do such stupid things i just wanna lie down and die.

-

this book i am holding was printed in 1945. the pages are thick and brittle, and my fingers smell of old book. (it is not a nice smell, btw.) the first due date stamp is Aug 22 1946, which is pretty mind-boggling. why did that person borrow this book in august of 1946? to a person of a world just coming out of a terrible war, what did this book of the first war say? how old is that person now? is he still alive?
it is like time has stopped and turned around, and if i look up, it will be at the 1940s. what is the scenery outside the window like?

fantasy

2005-12-12T08:36:00.000-05:00

i remember when i was young, it was such a big deal to go to the US for holidays. it was really the coolest place to go. each time i went it was.. amazing. partly it was the length of the flight, and the strangely exotic feeling of being somewhere so different. and also it was the romantic power the US has over our collective consciousness. the land of the brave and free, the american dream. wow, the lincoln monument. wow, broadway. yay, disneyland. yay, circus circus. words that are so american rolling unfamiliarly, proudly on my childish tongue: saltwater taffy. mrs. see's. gold rush.

when i went to new york for the first time i think i was.. eight? nine? i collected all the brochures and admission tickets and made a scrapbook of my american trip. i think i still know where it is, at home. and that ticket from knotts berry farm from when i was thirteen, it is still being used as a bookmark in my bible. i know what's in that scrapbook: cut outs from the programmes of phantom of the opera and joseph and the amazing technicolour dreamcoat. the labels of a couple of boxes of jelly beans. a tag from the museum of natural history. a map of the NASA museum in florida. i don't remember, at all, what the NASA museum was like. i have absolutely zero memory of it: not even a flash of sunlight or a vague shape of a space shuttle. but for that map, i wouldn't even know i had been there.

i remember that i remembered, because of that dog-earned scrap book. but what else have i forgotten, that i don't even know that i don't remember?

now, these things that i once thought were so important, these records of places and shows and experiences, are not the things i want to remember. i don't care if i forget the stained glass of the notre dame basilica, or the the cobblestones in quebec city, or the rainbow that forms in the mist of the niagara falls. i want to remember the feeling of friendships where the names have disappeared, the camaderie over dinners where the food has ben forgotten, of walking home together and laughing in the bracing cold. i want to remember loneliness, darkness and sweet beautiful misery, tied together in the impersonal songs on my itunes.. because i have no scrapbooks, but i have other ways to remember now. like music that triggers a familiar heartache, or reminds me of some forgotten hope. like slang that insinuates itself into my vocabulary. like careless entries in this blog. did you think, when i wrote cryptically, that i meant anything? i do not; there is no meaning in the entry, but i word my sentences carefully, and each phrase is a key to a memory.

but i must delete this blog in time, and with time, even these memories will be lost.

i spoke to my sister for a few minutes before she left for japan for a week or so. i haven't seen her in four months, and msn with her maybe once a week on average. but somehow, oddly, it feels like i am going to miss her when she's gone.

yeargh

2005-12-10T10:09:00.000-05:00

i was listening to the memoirs of a geisha ost and one of the tracks is called "the fire scene and the coming of war" (YSI link). the title sounds like it's actually TWO tracks, which it actually kind of is. part of it has some traditional japanese old-fashioned woman yodelling along, while the rest is typical grandiose movie ost-ish.

what really disturbed me is that i actually recognised the traditional yodelling part. i did not google it, i swear. it's from a kabuki play called musume dojoji, and you can hear the original version if you want, but i can't really think of why someone would do that.

this is unbelieveably nerdy. but since i am young and cute and female, i will cling on to the belief that i am still cooler than loser college kids who listen to emo alt/indie bands and think they are being esoteric and different. and that they are impressing people by saying they like bands with names that are meaningless strings of words lumped together, often involving the themes of weather (such as "snow", "wind", "cold"), numbers ("69", "fifth", "se7en"), or death ("death").

or people who listen to bond, josh groban, and pachelbel's canon in D, and think they are so cool because they are listening to classical music. if you were really into it, you poseur, you would know pachelbel's canon is not classical, it is baroque.

and i shall also console myself with the knowledge that i do not actually *enjoy* music like musume dojoji. however, i do enjoy music that is, possibly, even more geeky, and which i shall now shut up about, before it makes me lose every last shred of credibility i have.

(in my defence, i must state that this is a very, very limited, extremely acquired, and probably somewhat ephemeral taste. and also, with reference to the preceding paragraph, that i do not hold myself out to be a connoisseur of what is commonly referred to as classical music. whether western or otherwise. and i'm not saying josh groban or bond are bad. they are very hot, and also very good, but they are just not classical music, even if they ARE in the classical section at HMV.)

while on the subject of music, however, i must confess that i do not understand this obession with RENT. not that i've watched it, but the music that i have heard seems to be pretty dated and rather uninspiring overall. and the storyline seems melodramatic. maybe i will watch it in new york and be blown away and repent of this sacrilege. (puccini's la boheme, which i understand is referred to in RENT, is part of the NYC Opera's 2005/2006 season, by the way.) or maybe i will watch the NY philharmonic performing tchaikovsky and sibelius instead.

and before anyone accuses me of being a snotty poseur with her head stuck in the 17th century, i will confess that i love my jpop (with limits..) and anime (the gankutsuou ost has meyerbeer and donizetti and schumann on it!) as much as the next fat acne-ridden college nerd. (ok, maybe not as much. i don't write fanfic and cosplay and attend conventions and do scary things like that.) i also like wannabe and very mainstream artistes like garbage and placebo and the calling and our lady peace (the pride of the canadian music industry. apart from avril lavigne. and, uh, celine dion.) i am acquiring a taste for jazz, which at one point did nothing for me except make me hungry (cos i only ever heard it in restaurants..) i even find numa numa strangely addictive, and i appreciate usher and 50 cent in the appropriate settings (like when i'm clubbing and semi-drunk and the beat is just perfect for getting it on with that cutie at the bar..)

but the one thing i still absolutely cannot stomach is indie.

i am also not sure what i accomplished with this post except to demonstrate what an absolute prat i am.

the piano player

2005-12-08T20:30:00.000-05:00

i just had a THREE HOUR AND FORTY FIVE MINUTE exam for tax. people brought in food and the guy next to me was eating a peanut butter kit kat chunky. for some strange reason, every kind of chocolate bar here has a peanut butter version. peanut butter mars bars. peanut butter kit kat. peanut butter hersheys. why?

it occurs to me that tax is one of those subjects that could be completely mystifying to someone who hasn't done it. most hypos, you can spot the places where they have issues, even if you've never done the subject before (e.g. there is a transaction, or agreement, or change of position / status, or some sort of money involved). but .. this was part of one of my questions:

Helen is furious. She is an employee of Travel Tours Inc. and in June 2005 her employer sent her and her fellow employeees on a white-water rafting adventure trip for five days, all expenses paid. She was told that it was to reward the employees for all their hard work. A group that specialised in motivational sessions for promoting bonding and team work among employees organised the trip and claimed that efficiency in the work place would improve by at least 10% following one of the trips. Helen was terrified of water, having had a near drowning experience as a child, and when she first heard of the trip she sought out her employer and explained why she did not want to go. She was told that, of course, she would not be forced to go, but her non-attendance would be interpreted as a sign that she was not a team player. Helen screwed up her courage, went on the trip, had a miserable time, but survived....
Advise Helen on the Canadian federal income tax implications of all the above.

like.. what does that have to do with tax, right? where's the issue?

-

walking home was one of the most surreal experiences i have ever had. there is a field, and it is ringed by dim yellow lamps, and beyond are the lights of buildings and cars, but in the middle, there is no light. it is absolutely dark, and the wind is strong, and it forces tears from my eyes. there is dirt, and grass, and snow that has lain there for days and frozen into ice. the promise of light and heat is so strong i can almost feel the warmth, but i am still so cold.

it was almost... scary, the hostility in the air, of the air.

isn't autumn supposed to be rotting leaves and still stone benches and marble fountains without water, about quiet grey skies and victorian architecture and dripping eaves?

there is.. an anger rising inside of me, about you, and i am struggling to convey it to you. you look at me, once, a controlled and understated intensity, and i know you understand. but i blink, and look again, and i think i was only imagining it.

the taxation of benefits and allowances from an office or employment

2005-12-04T17:32:00.000-05:00

this is like a bryna entry. :D

1. the ghetto-ization of the raffles family:
apparently, rgs is moving to bishan as well. so, from having one school in holland village, one in orchard, and one in an ulu new town, all three have ended up in said ulu new town. and it IS ulu, i mean, orchard vs junction 8..?
hurray for the 'old-money' (as opposed to 'i am so smart and i am going to make it big... one day') schools like scgs, acs, and mgs. which are still in the central area. where, oh, i dunno, EVERYONE happens to live. [/end snob]
and the inner acsian* (i hate saying that word) in me is laughing at the rafflesians. i mean, BISHAN compared to holland / bukit timah? the old sky has eyes.
bukit timah rocks.
except the bukit timah campus.

(sorry. i am still proud to be a rafflesian. i am just glad i didn't end up studying in the bishan-ang mo kio area.)
(and when i say acsian, i am referring to the family of schools associated with the methodist church, not just acs / acjc. mgs girls do not think of themselves as "acsians", as it is normally used.)
(and if you still didn't know, i am from mgs and not rgs.)

2. the lion, the witch and the wardrobe poster:
why is the white witch driving three polar bears? wasn't it supposed to be reindeers? and doesn't her dwarf do the driving?

3. i smell of the body shop moonflower scent. which is not surprising, since i use the moonflower soap, moisturiser, and edt. i smell so nice :)

the terror

2005-12-01T00:17:00.000-05:00

you are far away, sitting on the equator with humidity and jungles and sunlight. home is like a fading memory, asphalt roads and grass-green hills baking in the sun, and the light grows so sharp it turns everything white, into static, into nothing.

i am far away, huddled up north in the cold and the growing dark. this land is a wilderness, with wide open fields of snow, and mountains thrown up by the earth, and pine trees stabbing into the sky. here there is the city but it is only an island, isolated by rivers of ice, and the winter is coming, coming with its wind and snow, surrounding the settlement with blankets of frozen air, killing the days and howling like a ghost through the empty streets.

here there is the city, but when the snow falls, everything dies. the snow covers everything, touches everything, makes everything its own. the buildings shiver and draw nearer, driving people inside, into their houses, into their rooms, into themselves. there are fireplaces and heaters but the smoke and ash turn to frost in the air, and nothing can warm us up. like dust, like hail, my mouth and nose and eyes begin to fill, my fingers turn to ice, and my heart begins to still.

nerd!

2005-11-28T20:42:00.000-05:00

of the two events that are currently going on in montreal, i am more annoyed at missing the kyoto protocol conference than the u2 concert.

i reckon this makes me a geek, does it not?

also, i have great cooking skills. today i had the cold soba thing for dinner. and i made the sauce from scratch.

comparative literature

2005-11-28T04:57:00.000-05:00

祇園精舎の鐘の聲、
諸行無常の響あり。
娑羅雙樹の花の色、
盛者必衰のことわりをあらはす。
おごれる人も久しからず、
唯春の夜の夢のごとし。
たけき者も遂にほろびぬ、
偏に風の前の塵に同じ。

The sound of the Gion shoja bells
echoes the impermanence of all things.
The color of the sala flowers reveals the truth
that the prosperous must decline.
The proud do not endure,
they are like a dream on a spring night.
The mighty fall at last,
they are as dust before the wind.

- opening lines, 平家物語

Man's fate is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; man has no advantage over the animal. Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust shall return.

- Ecclesiastes 3:19-20

strange how they sound so alike but come in such different contexts and mean such different things.

cultural relativity

2005-11-23T14:02:00.000-05:00

one thing about singapore.. nobody ever knows what the weather forecast for the day is. here, everyone knows what it will be down to the hour... the amount of precipitation, the wind speed, and of course how cold it will be.

just when i get used to temperatures that hover around 0, it drops by about 5-10 degrees. the snow is starting to stay around now.. and so is the ice. walking around is really, really dangerous.

winter is here.

2005-11-21T01:21:00.000-05:00

this is so funny!! they even put in bad porno music..
"trailer" for the new harry potter movie.. heh heh heh.

warning: spoilers, if you're absolutely anal.

(if the link doesn't work, click here.)

that's it.

2005-11-19T13:51:00.000-05:00

i have discovered the reason why i have been ending up with tons of popups, firefox notwithstanding.

TAGBOARD!!

it causes popups! how disgusting. it is T3H 3V1L.
(yah lah, i know i'm slow and i'm sure everyone already knew this a long time ago.)

if you have a tagboard that isn't being used, please, for the love of all things good and popup-free, remove it.

little stories

2005-11-17T16:35:00.000-05:00

what love is this, that is not built on commitment, or communication, or compassion? it is nothing so base, and nothing that survived the brutal truth of the Enlightenment. it is far older, and far more primitive, and far more beautiful. it is a love founded on darkness and not light. it is that love which is but a step away from hatred.

this is love that is cruel, and spare. it lives in silence, and withers in the burn of a careless look. it is about power, independence, about desire, and possession. it lives in the starless nights and frozen black winters.

it is not a love of sweet nothings, of soft kisses and long letters. it bears not roses, or gifts, or kind gestures. it is not a companionship, or partnership, or relatinoship. it is not a love that lives in holding hands, or smiles, or being there for one another. it is not about understanding, or fitting together, or happiness. it is not even about heroic sacrifices or stoic resignation.

this is love that belongs only to itself, and its lovers are selfish, elegant, and aloof. it is not found in "i love you", but in "you love me". it is pride and scorn. it is beauty distilled into purity; a love as kind as the kiss of a flame, and as forgiving as the edge of a sword.

we will meet again, when the war is over

2005-11-12T02:46:00.000-05:00

si je vous aimez, je vous vais donner tout.

-

'dawn yang' is the number 1 search term on technorati.

i really like that picture of her in the rj canteen. not because of her, but because it is so... innocent. we have all of us been there, in our white blouses and green skirts, studying with a cup of 40 cent ice lemon tea. probably it is afternoon, in between classes. (and later when we go for double lit with evans, hardy and jude, marriage and Father Time, there will be hersheys chocolates and i will sit in the back corner doodling in my book.)

those 2 years were like a blanket, warm and comforting and suffocating. it was so happy and so sad. wasn't that when we started to go out, with our borrowed ICs, when the parties were all free-flow before 12?

we worried about those big things like - what if i don't get to do my 2 Spapers? what scholarship will i get? which university should i go to?. we gossiped, and even then it was innocent - did dawn yeo do her eyelids? they look really strange! xxx is sleeping with yyy! are you serious? zzz got drunk at aaa's party on friday and flashed her boobs!

it seems, really, that nothing has changed. the same things happen. we suffer the same stresses. it is all the same, but it is so different somehow. like coming out of a mist, the colours are brighter and sharper and the air is colder. in the 4 years since we left, we have become different, while remaining the same.

maybe, perhaps, we have grown up, and we are never coming home.

remembrance day

2005-11-11T11:11:00.000-05:00

Larkin, MCMXIV

Those long uneven lines
Standing as patiently
As if they were stretched outside
The Oval or Villa Park,
The crowns of hats, the sun
On moustached archaic faces
Grinning as if it were all
An August Bank Holiday lark;

And the shut shops, the bleached
Established names on the sunblinds,
The farthings and sovereigns,
And dark-clothed children at play
Called after kings and queens,
The tin advertisements
For cocoa and twist, and the pubs
Wide open all day;

And the countryside not caring
The place-names all hazed over
With flowering grasses, and fields
Shadowing Domesday lines
Under wheat's restless silence;
The differently-dressed servants
With tiny rooms in huge houses,
The dust behind limousines;

Never such innocence,
Never before or since,
As changed itself to past
Without a word--the men
Leaving the gardens tidy,
The thousands of marriages
Lasting a little while longer:
Never such innocence again.

expensive pair of shoes

2005-11-10T22:18:00.000-05:00

so chio.

it snowed today.

famous last words

2005-11-09T20:23:00.000-05:00

i spent S$1k today in 1.5 hours. die lah.

jealousy

2005-11-05T19:23:00.000-05:00

i am doing my readings for tax!! go me.

don't you wish you were one of these "jet setters of yesteryear", leading a "peripatetic lifestyle"?

The Queen v K.F. Reeder, [1974] CTC 256, 75 DTC 5160 (FCTD)

The bulk of judicial prose generated on the subject of fiscal residence has related to the peripatetic lifestyle of the leisurely wealthy - the jet setters of yesteryear. In Levene v Commissioners of Inland Revenue, [1928] AC 217, per Viscount Sumner at 227, the taxpayer

... continued to go to and fro during the years in question, leaving at the beginning of winter and coming back in summer. His home thus remained as before. He changed his sky but not his home. On this I see no error of law in saying of each year, that his purpose in leaving the United Kingfom was occasional residence abroad only. The occasion was the approach of an English winter and when with the promise of summer here that occasion passed away, back came Mr. Levene to attend to the calls of interest, of friendship and of piety.

see also: (and i wish more judges were this snarky..)
Thomson v MNR, [1946] CTC 51, 2 DTC 812 (SCC)

As a result of a dispute over assessment by the village, he took up arms against what has been a sea of taxing troubles, sold his home, declared Bermuda to be his domicile, and proceeded to that island; and at the end of a week, armed with a British passport obtained there, returned to the mainland to set up residence in the United States. This continued until 1930 with his chief abode at Pinehurst, Nort Carolina. There in that year he built an expensive dwelling which ever since has been kept in readiness for occupancy. In 1932, marking his reeturn to Canada, he rented a house at St. Andrew's, New Brunswick, where he spent a summer season of 134 days. This was repeated during the next two years... In the latter year he built a house at East Riverside near Rothesay costing, with furniture, close to $90,000. The reason given for this was his wife's desire to be near her relatives and friends in New Brunswick, but he protests against harbouring any like sentiment. Since then and up to 1942, between May and October he has spent there an average of 150 days a year. After the season at Easst Riverside, his life has centered around Pinehurst, with a stay of a month or two at Belleair, Florida. During that time, the New Brunswick house is closed except the quarters of a housekeeper and wife which are open the year around; but it could at any time become a winter or all year home if desired. With him in these mass movements are his wife and only child, motor cars and servants, and at all three places he indulges himself as an addict to golf, to which he devotes most of his time and a substantial part of his money.

in which sandra blogs like a bimbo

2005-11-02T17:42:00.000-05:00

in this entry i shall attempt to write in the style of bimbotic, pretty, rich, spoilt brats studying overseas (you know the kind.)

disclaimer: if you (being someone i know personally) think this applies to you, or if i appear to be parodying you,... i'm not.
also, not everything is completely true.

-
halloween was sooo much fun. i had nothing to wear so i just bought a mask. the girl in green is from venezuela. i think she's so chio!

[step no. 1: insert picture of self with a bunch of ang mohs in a club. extra points if someone is holding a drink.]

after my presentation yesterday i deserved a break so i went shopping. it was really cool.. there was a fire on rue crescent, which i didn't see, but i saw the police close off the street and there were like 5 fire engines. and lots of hunky firemen. anyway i bought a couple of things.. like a white shirt. vintage oxford. i think it's important to always have a white shirt. simard et voyer is having a sale! there were these gorgeous bcbg slippers, but they didn't have my size :( tomorrow i'm going to look for another s&v store, and hopefully they have it. i know there's a store on ste. catherine.. but i couldn't find it today! how could it have disappeared??

[step no. 2: talk about going shopping. mention expensive things but not how much they cost (since cost is no object)]

i had lunch with derek on monday. he's really nice.. and he's not like other guys, who are just interested in being touchy-feely. he's so unaggressive and it's like a breath of fresh air. i think it's the simple things that make life meaningful, don't you?

[step no. 3: mention random guys by name as if everyone knew who they were.]
[step no. 4: insinuate how hot you are and how all the men love you.]
[step no. 5: attempt to sound deep and meaningful with platitudes about the nature of life/love/relationships/the world.]

i went for drinks on st. laurent the other night. it was so cool.. all the staff were dressed up, cos it was halloween. there was even a girl dressed as a cat with face paint and tail and all! after that we went to 737, where the queue was so long as usual. but we got in anyway (for free!), since alonso knows the bouncer.

[step no. 6: insert more photos with more ang mohs and more drinks.]
[step no. 7: talk about some cute/funny/silly thing happening at a bar.]
[step no. 8: mention getting VIP treatment at a club.]

today in school we learnt..

2005-11-01T17:01:00.000-05:00

readings that make you go WTH:

1. There are two arguments in "Language Strata" relevant to the concept of 'open texture'. First, material-object statements cannot be reduced to a collection of sense-datum statements: 'a statement about a cat is a statement about a cat: and not a truth-function of sense-datum statements, or an infinite class of perspectives, or an infinite group of sensibilia, or heaven knows what.'

HEAVEN KNOWS WHAT indeed.

2. We had to write outlines for our papers, and now have to critique other people's outlines. so i look for the one with my name on it (that is, written by someone else, but which i am supposed to critique). and it goes like this:
La majorité et la dissidence s'entendent sur le fait que les faits reprochés (recrutement d'enfants soldats) constituaient une infraction en DIH. Pour engager la responsabilité pénale individuelle de la personne qui a recruté un enfant ou qui l'a utilisé pour participer aux hostilités en droit international, il faut qu'il y ait des exemples de practique d'États en faveur de la criminalisation de l'infraction ainse qu'une opinio juris suffisante pour établir une norme coutumière à ce sujet...

and this, after the prof says "i tried to assign outlines in french to the people who can actually READ french."
don't think he tried very hard leh.

arghh. it reminds me of secondary school. when i had to read newspaper articles for 周记／读后感 and i would never have any idea what the bloody article was about.

bah

2005-10-30T16:11:00.000-05:00

to the fucker who stole my phone:

good luck trying to use it since there are no chargers in canada (with its shitty old fashioned two years ago cellphone models) you can use to charge this model. i'm sorry, my phone is too high tech for the likes of you.

FUCK YOU.

opening myself to the world bravely

2005-10-25T12:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Xiaxue,

you have influenced me as a (not quite) teen and female to learn to stand up for myself.
you have inspired me to start blogging and opening myself to the world bravely.
thank you for being the voice i never had...

more on my favourite feminist

2005-10-24T23:52:00.000-04:00

sometimes i think people who advocate a cause can end up shooting themselves in the foot:

Within days, Washington Post columnist Judy Mann reported a finding by prominent feminist law professor Catharine A. MacKinnon that 50,000 Muslim women had been raped in the Bosnian conflict and, for good measure, that another 100,000 Muslim women had been killed. (Actually, 100,000 was at the high end of estimates for the total number killed to that point in the war; as in most wars, it appeared that most of the dead were males, and not all were Muslims.)

Catharine MacKinnon was front and center at the 1993 Vienna conference, this time arguing that the rapes in Bosnia and Croatia were inextricably linked to what had long been the main target of her crusading - pornography. The connection was twofold, she claimed: The rapes were provoked by pornography and also served the purpose of producing pornography. As an example of provocation, she cited "Serbian tanks plastered with pornography." As for production, she told her listeners that Serb forces videotaped their rapes for future viewing.

MacKinnon developed her thesis in a 'Ms.' magazine cover story, "Turning Rape into Pornography: Postmodern Genocide." Her article was filled with so many images of violent sex that some might have mistaken MacKinnon's own writing for pornography.

(emphasis and typos mine).

- Aryeh Neier, "War Crimes: Brutality, Genocide, Terror, and the Struggle for Justice", 1998, Ch 11: Rape at 176 and 179

after the rain

2005-10-24T01:49:00.000-04:00

tonight the windows are cold, when i press my hands against them. my room is so warm, it is strange - though it should not be - to feel the cold.

i push open the window panels and look out; the air is fresh and clear, and the sky is cloudless, pure black. after the rain, everything is clean. the lights shine brighter, and wind is sharper, the streets glimmer; the city is renewed.

somehow it feels like i could fly. in a world so crystal bright, surely dreams come true. surely hope survives.

In open fields of wild flowers,
she breathes the air and flies away
She thanks her Jesus for the daises and the roses
in no simple language
Someday she'll understand the meaning of it all
He's more than the laughter or the stars in the heavens
As close a heartbeat or a song on her lips
Someday she'll trust Him and learn how to see Him
Someday He'll call her and she will come running
and fall in His arms and the tears will fall down and she'll pray,

"I want to fall in love with You"

- jars of clay, love song for a saviour

someday...?

internal security (prohibition of publications) (consolidation) order

2005-10-23T00:06:00.000-04:00

hidden away in the subsid legislation under the internal security act is a long list of publications which have been banned in singapore, probably on communism / socialism.

some of the titles are so evocative. what happened during those ten days in the chiang shan chun, by mah chiah? who is the prisoner of poule-condors, by yin hsaie? and we cannot sing songs for the youngsters (少年之歌）by suan hien. at the foot of the hill, by tung ping, there are people beating up gongs and drums, and sing (sic), author unknown. and when cheung cho purchases a cow, by wong ah ping, he does so from a family of landlords, by shehedrin - we must get rid of rich families, by kot cheung lun.

this one is pretty funky: commmunist party calls english for a fighting spirit of toiling millions against imperialists and their collaborators for freedom and democracy, 1948, author unknown.

some sound pretty academic, like logical proof of materialism and historical materialism, author unknown, and the modern history of interntional relations, by cheung tit sang. some teach you how to appreciate movies, by lo ngai fu， and how to be a new youth, by chen hsien. or learn lenin's method of working, author unknown.

and then there are the poetic sounding tites: all birds face the phoenix, by wang ah ping, the enigmatic no. forty-one, author unknown, on the seven oceans, by han meng, and the beautiful red flower must be adorned with green leaves, by the harbin railway worker's union.... railway worker's union? sounds of the drum, by w. whitman (not walt) stray dog cannot eat up the sun, author unknown. in the old house (在古屋里), by hon meng. autumn in grass village(草村的秋天), by liu chi.

there are some famous people in there: those who built stalingrad, by gorky. protest against liberalism, by mao tse tung. one step forwards, two steps back, by lenin. marxism and the national and colonial question, by stalin. stalin's policy of peace and democracy, by molotov. (was there one??)

a couple of publications deal with the life and thinking of a person named To Hang Chi. who is he? there's nothing on google, wikipedia, or even (grasping at straws here) lexis and lawnet. it's strange that someone the government once thought was so dangerous has been swallowed completely into history.

and there's the SL under the undesirable publications act, which bans all past and future issues of the periodicals wink, titter, flirt, whisper, hubba hubba, caprice, taboo, flicks, pussycat, trojan. all books whether published or to be published by the author hank janson. poor fellow, the government really doesn't like him. apparently, he's a writer of about 100 soft porn novels masquerading as gangster stories.
in chinese: diary of a virgin, and the secrets of sex life of emperors of various dynasties. night life of the world, collection of ancient techniques of obtaining sexual vitality. a panoramic view of world prostitutes sounds interesting.
it bans books with titles like crest inn rape, the, discontented wives, soft lips on black velvet and the hilarious sounding man hunger.
yet i'm sure it is (far too) easy to get similar porn stories online, for free, instantly.. why bother?

no. 226 on the list, lying between publications like GURU NANAK and his Japji, all issues and editions of the puisi dari penjara (poems from prison), and the periodicals swank, bounce, and girls of penthouse, is something we are all familiar with: all publications published or printed by Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society.

the last item, no. 257, is marked as being deleted by S556/2004, WEF 03/09/2004. strangely enough, i cannot find a copy of S556/2004, or even an older version of this piece of SL. i'm dying to know what no.257 was.

sugar daddy

2005-10-22T16:28:00.000-04:00

we watched les grands ballets canadiens de montreal dancing la bete et la belle last night. i didn't think the cheoreography was good. the principals had style, but their technique (especially belle) started to slip as the show progressed.

the ending was so beautiful and sad though. i woke up this morning thinking about it. it was just.. so.. empty and devoid of hope.

after that we were going to go for a management (biz fac) party. someone had a car, so three of us got there first (a local student, a danish exchange student, and me). after queueing for about 5 minutes, we decided we didn't want to hang out with 18/19 year old kids wearing glitter eyeshadow and went next door. the difference between the two places is like velvet as compared to phuture.

next door, however, was closed for a private party.. thrown by a big law firm! the a&g sort of big firm (but bigger).
so we crashed it.

it was so fun. the drinks were ALL free.. not just the shitty housepours you get in singapore.. everything was free. and really, really strong. like i had a vodka lime, and i was thinking how much vodka there was compared to lime.. and then i got to the bottom, where it was just vodka. no wonder all the lawyers were drunk. there were also raw oysters and sandwiches (but they were gone by the time we got there), and little pieces of fantastic brownies with meringue on top, which i was eating to keep myself from getting drunk (not very successfully. but if you want to know more, ask me in person. haha.)

the lawyers were really friendly too. well.. put together a roomful of mostly male, very drunk lawyers, and three pretty young things*, what you expect right. but they were not, you know, sleazy and disgusting about it. it was the kind of conversation you would make when you are an attachee and your partner / mentor / mentor's first year LA takes you out for lunch.

*to a drunk lawyer, everyone who is female is pretty, and everyone who is below the age of 30 is young.

i met the head of the corp dept.. it was really funny. he's a 15 year PQE.. he was dirty dancing with me and he kept telling me how drunk he was and kissed me on the cheek. so sweet.
i'm so amazed at how much fun these people have. i can't imagine a bigshot lawyer doing this, in singapore. no way.

you really do get to see a lot of things on exchange. heehee. this has made coming all the way here totally worth it. when i go home, and people ask me what i did in montreal, i can tell them i met lawyers!

-

this is my newest discovery / obsession:

post's honey bunches of oats with real peaches

er

2005-10-20T17:54:00.000-04:00

this is quite creepy, if i think about it (and i'm trying not to):

鱼好 | evil piece of shit. (MSN) 5:45:38 PM
a photo of your naked stomach is now my wallpaper*.

*note: this has been paraphrased for clarity.

ETA:
i am sitting in the lawfac atrium, in the process of writing my take-home midterm, in a state of advanced inebriation (but i'm not drunk! yet!).. let's see what happens to my paper. could be interesting. haha.

every thursday there is an event called coffeehouse. there is no coffee, but there is alot of beer, very cheap (like $2/3 a bottle). sometimes, like today, firms sponsor coffeehouse, and the beer is free. there is also wine. and food.

unfortunately, i have a very evil professor who set a 24 hour take-home over this thursday night, when there is sponsored coffeehouse.

there are like 3 jackets on the couch behind me. i don't know whose exactly they are, and i hope people come and get them back.

alright. i shall go get more beer now.

ETA2:

the vienna boys choir are coming! to singapore!!!!... damn.

my friends have taken their jackets.

and, i am still not drunk. (getting there...)

nothing about toilets

2005-10-20T15:20:00.000-04:00

about xiaxue:

caveat: this is a general comment about her blog, unrelated to any debate about toilets, cockroaches, or otherwise.

sometimes i feel like it's all a big joke. and it's so amazing, this xiaxue phenomenon. how did one girl, not particularly smart, or articulate, or funny, or talented, manage to be get so much publicity?
if you owned a business, would you choose her as the face of your product? why would someone do that? she is not tall, slim or pretty (at most, attractive in a very lian way). she does not represent any special / minority interest. she does not even have any subculture authority.

yet i am starting to believe there is more to her, and her popularity. for the average singaporean (rightly or wrongly, i do not count myself in that category), she is everyman. perhaps it is precisely because there is nothing special about her that she is popular. compare her to other bloggers: she is not academically successful, she has no unique hobbies (like travelling to india or kids or art or sex or macs or volunteering), she is not physically intimidating (neither very ugly nor very pretty), she is not rich, she is not cultured (she is in fact rather crass).
in short, she has nothing which will alienate her from her readers. unlike mrbrown, or popaghandi, or agagooga, or whatever, there is nothing about her that is very different from the people who read her, and so they read her, not because she is interesting, but because they ARE her.
and she is successful. so people want to BE her - because she is not better than them, yet she has attained some measure of success. who wouldn't want to be sponsored by a local brand? who wouldn't want to appear on tv?

so it's no surprise, then, that people read her. they identify with her, and they are inspired by her.

heeheehee

2005-10-15T23:17:00.000-04:00

i really really hope nothing happens and i don't have to take it out.. heehee.

independence

2005-10-13T19:32:00.000-04:00

je ne veux pas une colocataire, et j'ai beaucoup des ami(e)s, mais..

i wish there was someone to open the door for me when my arms are full of shopping.
i wish there was someone to surprise me with little things like doing the dishes i forgot to do after dinner.
i wish there was someone to make a fuss and bandage me when i cut myself with a pair of scissors, even though it doesn't hurt.
i wish there was someone to leave the toilet seat up and finish the toilet paper and not replace it.
i wish there was someone to help take care of things like blown lightbulbs and leaking faucets and to deal with the landlord.
i wish there was someone to finish the food in the fridge that i can't.
i wish there was someone to walk me to school even though he doesn't have a class.
i wish there was someone to enjoy the view from the window with.
i wish there was someone to keep me warm when i am cold.
i wish there was someone to bring me to all the silly places i want to go and do silly things with me.
i wish there was someone to cook for and share my bottle of clicquot with.
i wish there was someone to come home with at 3am, after going clubbing, with his arm around my waist.
i wish there was someone to drag me out of bed when i have to go to class at 8 am the next morning.
i wish there was someone for me to make hot chocolate for in the middle of winter.
i wish there was someone for me to do laundry for and try not to look when i'm folding his underwear.
i wish there was someone to tell me i look great when i'm all dressed up or when i've just got out of bed and my hair is a mess.
i wish there was someone to pick up after.
i wish there was someone around, so i need not be lonely.

winter is coming

2005-10-13T14:08:00.000-04:00

:(

signboard at harvard yard, harvard university, 9 october 2005.

what a difference a day makes

2005-10-12T21:29:00.000-04:00

the sunset light paints your cheeks as you sleep, and your hair curls down the pillow. your fingers with nails coloured clamshell pink clutch the sheets, your skirt sweeping across your knees. i sit beside you, beneath the window with embroidered and tasselled drapes, looking at our garden you have planted. we have fought when we are awake, we have laughed and teased and done so many things, but when you are asleep you are perfect and i can love you completely. i think, sometimes it is better that the dream remains a dream.

i wonder what our friends are doing right now; who is having tea with dutch china and silver spoons, who is alone in a cold empty office echoing in silence, who is holding and being held, who is standing by a pavement still wet from this afternoon's rain, with bags of shopping clutched close to their bodies.

what a difference a day makes - and in those quiet words is hidden an intensity and disappointment and a heartbreak. imagine a stark light in the dark cauterising my skin my heart my soul and pain red with blood that is screaming and soundless. but for now, you are sleeping.

this is a moment i have with you, a moment between us that is mine alone. the air is thick enough to drown in, to suffocate in. you will awake, and we will have dinner, and sit together into the night with the shadows and the fireplace for company, and then the night will be over and a day will begin. but for now time trickles to a stop, and our lives, with all our quiet furies and helpless fighting and cruel despair, all our lives, they do not matter. this is my dream, my fairy tale. this silence smooths out all our rough edges, draping silk over jagged glass. i take your hand, and as i do the world yawns and stretches, like a desert in the purple evening.

this is eternity, a brutal perfection, and it smells of roses and camomile.

le poison

2005-10-11T17:46:00.000-04:00

le vin sait revêtir le plus sordide bouge
d'un luxe miraculeux,
et fait surgir plus d'un portique fabuleux
dans l'or de sa vapeur rouge,
comme un soleil couchant dans un ciel nébuleux.

l'opium agrandit ce qui n'a pas de bornes,
allonge l'illimité,
approfondit le temps, creuse la volupté,
et de plaisirs noirs et mornes
remplit l'âme au delà de sa capacité.

tout cela ne vaut pas le poison qui découle
de tes yeux, de tes yeux verts,
lacs où mon âme tremble et se voit à l'envers...
mes songes viennent en foule
pour se désaltérer à ces gouffres amers.

tout cela ne vaut pas le terrible prodige
de ta salive qui mord,
qui plonge dans l'oubli mon âme sans remords,
et charriant le vertige,
la roule défaillante aux rives de la mort!

- charles baudelaire, les fleurs du mal

for vic

2005-10-07T00:58:00.000-04:00

You Are Rocky Road Ice Cream

Unpredictable and wild, you know how to have fun.
You're also a trendsetter who takes risks with new things.
You know about the latest and greatest - and may have invented it.
You are most compatible with vanilla ice cream.

What Flavor Ice Cream Are You?

oh my darling vanilla ice cream! fall into my creamy arms! this is confirmation of the truth we have always known, that we were meant for each other! let's head down the rocky road of life together..

(see unlike A i actually have proof that i am your rocky road.)

j'ai faim

2005-10-06T08:48:00.000-04:00

prata, carrot cake, porridge with the crispy stuff, apple aloe vera, kyros kebab cinnamon fries when it's raining, okonomiyaki, beijing fengwei, panna cotta, yong tau foo with fat beehoon and sweet sauce, fried lady's fingers, steamed egg from the pickpick stall, portugese egg tarts, char kway teow, soya bean milk, mee siam goreng, creme brulee, tom yam soup, egg toast, orange juice with sacs from the vending machine outside the law library, ice milo, kaminabe, laksa, hainanese chicken rice (without the chicken), the vegetarian stall at the pgp ac canteen, chawanmushi, plain fried dou miao, mooncakes, tiramisu, lychee martinis, double-boiled herbal soup, royce chocolates.

suppers at upper bukit timah, crystal jade at holland v (especially the mushrooms thing! tim you know which one right), fong seng, chomp chomp, olive tree lunch buffets, brunch at the SICC windows on bukit, delicate chinese food at man fu yuan, kaiseki at suntory (and the beautiful colonial intercontinental hotel), pregos and kopitiam and all the other restaurants in the swissotel and raffles hotel, au petit salut, original sin, sunday brunch at the cricket club, sakae sushi buffet, cheap food at muchie monkeys, spizza pizza with rocket leaf, candlelit dinner at senso, vegetarian dim sum in chinatown, rijstaffel at rice table, straits kitchen and high tea with the chocolate fountain at the hyatt, bakerzin.

所有的回忆都是潮湿的

2005-10-04T12:19:00.000-04:00

i am not who i was, or who i am, or who i will become.
far above the city, i sit in the skies and watch the night bleed, darkness spilling through the streets. it is cold and it is warm; i am here and i am not; lights reach up to my fingertips.

this is the language i speak, that is without words, without speech, and without definition. you speak to me but it is in a language you understand, and you misunderstand mine, and it is my fault.

and if i was still who i used to be, or who i am supposed to be, or who i was meant to become, there would have been no misunderstanding, and so it is my fault.

but i am not who i was, and i do not care. i know only of that which i dream of, and not this reality you seem to live in.

finally i have had a real night's sleep, and i wake up feeling clean, new, and exhausted.

i am who i want to be, and i am lost.

2005-09-30T02:25:00.000-04:00

today i accomplished something i have ever never done before in my entire life.

please observe: a cherry stem with a knot in it.

people on war

2005-09-28T21:44:00.000-04:00

last night, tonight, one week ago, two years from now,
we sat here and i spoke to you. i was honest, and i told you everything. remember? the brown bottles standing empty and full on the table. the television blinking in the corner. my dictionary lying closed on my french readings. your file stuck under your bag. our feet scuffing against the carpet. remember? there was a message on my cellphone, and the screen was blinking - it is so hard to ignore, isn't it? - and blinking. remember?

today, tomorrow, forever,
it was as if i told you nothing.
did you forget?
or was i only dreaming?

moonflower

2005-09-27T23:31:00.000-04:00

one month ago, the zara shop in place montreal trust was selling a funky jacket for the low low price of $39+tax. WHY DIDN'T I BUY IT!!!!!! it's not there anymore.

i had a brilliant birthday! the niagara falls are fantastic. photos when i get off my lazy ass.

next up: boston for thanksgiving.

i don't like the quebecois french accent. and i HATE it when people speak in french in class. this is what i understand: "do you think that frenchfrenchfrench the law is frenchfrench, but perhaps frenchfrenchfrench so uncertain that frenchfrench. maybe it will be possible to frenchfrenchfrench etc etc."

i am the only person i know who is not behind on readings. apparently it's because the nus workload is so much more that this is in comparison easy.. but i have no idea what the nus workload is supposed to be, since i never did any of the readings i was supposed to do anyway. but yah i think it's much less here. and maybe it's cos i'm actually reading *interesting* stuff.

there is so much more academic freedom: essays are real intellectual exercises; i write on what interests me. no such thing as set essay questions (at most, a specific topic), or hypos where there is only one right answer. in the courses that i am doing anyway.
(set questions are easier though)

did anybody (besides bryna and tim) care, or even realise, that i was gone for the last two weeks?

call upon the name of the lord

2005-09-13T09:56:00.000-04:00

from this window i can see the sun, and it is shining, but i do not feel warm. i wrap my hands around these things you have given me, and if i close my eyes i can remember. the world, so big and so complex, rushes from me, and here is reduced to this one place, on a chair over the mountain, where again it is hot and i am cold, and it is two years past, and there is newness of life. a car drives past. in remembrance do we each die a little more, with our memories of a past that can never be revived.

but i am here and not there. here the trees are slowly dying, the leaves fading from green to amber from the outside in, as if drawing the heat of summer in into themselves, until there is only one small spot of light in the center, until there is none.

believe in me, for i do not believe in myself.

do you know how i slip into your life? i watch you cry at night, i watch you call to your friends, i watch you stumble and fall, weak, helpless. i see in you all the things i despise, i see you try so hard and fail, i see your little happinesses and mundane joys and silly pleasures. i see in you everything i do not want to be. but deep in the heart of my hatred lies a secret envy. hunger crawls into my skin and i want to devour you.

i want to see you, face to face, and i want to tell you simply that i am here.

THIS IS JUST TO SAY

2005-09-12T18:48:00.000-04:00

that ("this is just to say") is the title of a poem that was quoted in one of my readings.

i have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

- William Carlos Williams

the guy goes on to about 4 pages of lit PC on the poem, discussing the diction and the sound of the words, suggesting various possiblities of the nature of the relationship between the guy eating the plums and the person to whom the poem is written, comparing it to Wallace Steven's "Thirteeen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" (and i don't see the connection) and the description of the Fall (as in the adam and eve one, not the spring summer and winter one) and life in a postlapsarian world (which is a really cheem word i learnt while doing bloody blake and have always wanted to use to make myself sound pretentious.)

as you can probably tell, this module (linguistic and literary approaches to law) is a huge load of waffle and shit. no actually it's very interesting. but i don't get it. partly because of the way the readings are written (alot of jargon and in a very very general manner), which is ironic because this sort of bad writing is exactly what the readings are complaining about. i hope it gets better.. and i hope i get it, since i have to write a paper for it.

i don't know what people mean when they say i'll learn alot from being overseas. the only things i've learnt are how to open a bank account and sign up for a telephone line, and how to cook rice and various other foodstuffs. i have also learnt that soemtimes i have to translate my readings from french and that i might as well not do them. and if you think nus admin / bureaucracy is bad... mcgill's is worse. it's like.. in nus if u ask them something, they tell u they can't do it / need approval / are not the right department. here, if u ask them something, they just don't respond.

i have a mcgill law sweater that says "sandra phung" on the sleeve. what a kitschy souvenir. but HAH i bet nobody else has a mcgill law sweater with their name on it. so there.

In a Dark Time - Theodore Roethke

2005-09-10T14:59:00.000-04:00

In a dark time, the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;
I hear my echo in the echoing wood--
A lord of nature weeping to a tree,
I live between the heron and the wren,
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.

What's madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall,
That place among the rocks--is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have.

A steady storm of correspondences!
A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,
And in broad day the midnight come again!
A man goes far to find out what he is--
Death of the self in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.

Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire.
My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly,
Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I?
A fallen man, I climb out of my fear.
The mind enters itself, and God the mind,
And one is One, free in the tearing wind.

isn't this gorgeous?

--

sunset from my room

BOOBS!

2005-09-09T13:42:00.000-04:00

Since i am being quoted on many blogs, i might as well do it here too.

the summer rain. says: (1:40:33 PM) anyway i always go guanzhens blog

the summer rain. says: (1:40:38 PM) and i see a picture of you and him and your ein a bikini

the summer rain. says: (1:40:44 PM) and your boobs are in my face

the summer rain. says: (1:40:45 PM) heehee

the summer rain. says: (1:40:46 PM) hahahahahaha

white queen says: (1:40:50 PM) you like it dont you

i never blog in class

2005-09-06T09:04:00.000-04:00

in the morning when i am half-asleep and the day is stretching behind my eyelids
i wish i could buy egg toast from the business canteen
the cheese is hot and melted and the bread is toasted and crispy
and the egg is seasoned just right with mayonnaise and pepper.

or a yam pau with the pau bit hideously purple but soft and warm and moist, and the yam sweet but not too sweet.

or ice milo that costs 80 cents. or dong nai cha.

the only thing i liked about those 9am lectures was that they somehow justified eating all that nonsense.

argh i am so hungry.

and there will be NO EGG TOAST in the btc!!!

out of point

2005-09-03T13:38:00.000-04:00

on the first of september, 2 (or 3) days ago,

i got to take out my p-plate.

i am having an absolute blast. exchange students rock.

i met someone who was on exchange in nus last year. he is cute!!!!! WHY DIDN'T I MEET HIM LAST YEAR!!!!!...................

ETA:
i miss sushi buffets at sakae.

hello grace

2005-09-01T10:29:00.000-04:00

this is a special entry dedicated to grace because i think she is very bored. her comments are all over everyone's blogs which i assume means she has nothing else to do.

so, hello grace!

ok the end.

----- (this is a separate entry) (why am i typing this?)

today was the first day of school. i had a @&*$^%&#^*$@*(@#)&! 8am class on taxation, which is the 4 credit module i have to take (i.e. the only 4 credit module that sounds remotely interesting and is not in french). there are 2 lectures a week and no tutorials (that i am aware of). yay!

people were saying hi to each other, asking what everyone did over the holidays, etc etc etc. i thought about how, if i were back home, i would be doing that too. it was not really sad or anything, just kinda weird.

it took me about 5 minutes to set up vpn. (as compared to 1.5 semesters on my ibm in year 1) but, for the record, i still hate this stupid mac. to add on to the list of things that don't work, my superdrive refuses to read anything i stick inside it. super my foot.

and i can't get my french course. so much for wanting to come back fluent. haha. everyone speaks english here.

bah

2005-08-31T22:20:00.000-04:00

i have a five day week

and 8am classes on four of those days

this is bloody screwed up

and half my modules are ones i don't want cos i can't sign up for the ones i DO want.

and i have to do one of those 8 am modules cos it's 4 credits. cos i want to do another course that is only 2 credits, and if i don't do a 4 credits course i won't have enough credits (12 credits, most courses are 3 credits). but i don't even want to do it. taxation. bleh.

2005-08-27T20:40:00.000-04:00

actually i have my singapore number with me now. you can sms me if you want but please don't leave any voicemail.

picture intensive

2005-08-20T20:17:00.000-04:00

this is my fridge. so full hor?

i bet everyone has seen this before on jigsaw puzzles. the notre-dame basilica in old montreal.

the organ at the other end.

cool looking building/graffiti in the latin quarter

the most disgustingly ornate bank ever. (p.s. this is my bank btw)

the entrance and the lifts of the disgusting bank.

and amsterdam is lovely. (the photos are under the link on the right) got windmill some more. hahah.

WELCOME TO MONTREAL

2005-08-19T08:00:00.000-04:00

L to R: (all prices in canadian dollars unless indicated otherwise)
brown and cream bag: UP $39.99, now $19.99 (it costs about S$80 in Singapore. i was going to buy it at 50% off. lucky never buy.)
sunglasses: UP $12.00, now $4.95
pink shoes (4/4.5 inch heels): UP $99.99, now $19.95
golden necklace (on the shoebox): UP $15.00, now $6.95
pink handbag: UP $19.99, now $9.95
pink and white strappy shoes (3 inch heels.. the heels are dark pink at the top and light pink at the base... really nice!): UP $79.99, now $19.95
total with taxes: < $100!!! (UP $307)

(and if you're interested.. that's a corner of my bed)

all from the ALDO liquidation store. on rue ste. catherine, between rue sanguinet and rue ste. elisabeth.

piracy

2005-08-14T02:47:00.000-04:00

nice right?

um

2005-08-13T05:30:00.000-04:00

inasmuch as the mac is so pretty, i don't like it that much.
1. sometimes when it's not plugged in, it turns off by itself. wth?!?
2. there is no really good btt client like bitcomet or bitlord for mac, which lets you choose which files in a particular torrent you want to download.
3. it is NOT INTUITIVE ok. windows can drag stuff around also can.. and i can't delete files by clicking delete, i have to throw it into the trash.
4. msn for mac.. pui.
5. i had to reformat my ipod!!!!!!!!!.........
6. my portable hd doesn't work with it.. (but nevermind i have another one)
7. cannot transfer bookmarks between browsers (or maybe i just haven't figured it out yet.. hehe)
8. i can't minimise all the open windows (minimise is not the same as hide)
9. when i delete files on my thumbdrive, then open the thumbdrive in a windows computer, the files are still there.
10. for some reason, btt transfers are very very slow.
11. i still don't like the dock. the fake one is better. hehe.

but there are tons of other cooler things! and the prettiness makes up for all of it (except item 1 above).

hao sexy

2005-08-10T12:57:00.000-04:00

switch!

public international law

2005-08-09T16:23:00.000-04:00

i am tired and i have had enough, and all this is not real to me.
this is christianity - lame cliches let go and let god, flowery and manufactured prayers father we are gathered here to glorify you and if it is your will may there be revivial in our nation/church/community/school/cellgroup (delete where necessary), an amorphous morality of justification in all these grey areas ultimately you are accountable to god and so long as you can answer to him that's all that matters, timetabled sundays close your eyes and lift your hands during worship, yawn and gossip and doodle during the sermon, cry and break your heart during altar calls, stupid song lyrics and ridiculous rock bands and corny cds hillsong delirious planetshakers, trite theology, emails signed off with in Him... how can all these be real?
isn't christianity supposed to be about a personal relationship with God? this is all stupid, stupid, the substance has been totally subsumed by the form, and at the end of the day it is nothing.

is this enough for you? these empty experiences, these emotional rollercoasters, these cycles of guilt and absolution, are these really the content of religion? are they the only thing? surely not?
but if so.. then what is?

-

you, do you think i really care about you?

-

this national day stuff is ridiculous. and the people performing should smile more. every time the camera pans in for a closeup, the flowers / archers / lions / lightstick-waving, sequin-wearing secondary school children look nothing but bored. it really makes the parade (even more) unwatchable.

2005-08-06T12:20:00.000-04:00

Here is a list of 110 most-banned books. Bold ones you've completely read. Italicize those you partially read.

#1 The Bible
#2 Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
#3 Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes
#4 The Koran
#5 Arabian Nights
#6 Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
#7 Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift
#8 Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
#9 Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
#10 Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
#11 The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli
#12 Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
#13 Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank
#14 Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
#15 Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens
#16 Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
#17 Dracula by Bram Stoker
#18 Autobiography by Benjamin Franklin
#19 Tom Jones by Henry Fielding
#20 Essays by Michel de Montaigne
#21 Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
#22 History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon
#23 Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy
#24 Origin of Species by Charles Darwin
#25 Ulysses by James Joyce
#26 Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio
#27 Animal Farm by George Orwell
#28 Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell
#29 Candide by Voltaire
#30 To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
#31 Analects by Confucius
#32 Dubliners by James Joyce
#33 Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
#34 Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway
#35 Red and the Black by Stendhal
#36 Das Kapital by Karl Marx
#37 Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire
#38 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
#39 Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence
#40 Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
#41 Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser
#42 Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
#43 Jungle by Upton Sinclair
#45 Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx
#46 Lord of the Flies by William Golding
#47 Diary by Samuel Pepys
#48 Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
#49 Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
#50 Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
#51 Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak
#52 Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant
#53 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey
#54 Praise of Folly by Desiderius Erasmus
#55 Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
#56 Autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X
#57 Color Purple by Alice Walker
#58 Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger
#59 Essay Concerning Human Understanding by John Locke
#60 Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
#61 Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe
#62 One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
#63 East of Eden by John Steinbeck
#64 Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
#65 I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
#66 Confessions by Jean Jacques Rousseau
#67 Gargantua and Pantagruel by Francois Rabelais
#68 Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes
#69 The Talmud
#70 Social Contract by Jean Jacques Rousseau
#71 Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
#72 Women in Love by D. H. Lawrence
#73 American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser
#74 Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler
#75 Separate Peace by John Knowles
#76 Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
#77 Red Pony by John Steinbeck
#78 Popol Vuh
#79 Affluent Society by John Kenneth Galbraith
#80 Satyricon by Petronius
#81 James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
#82 Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
#83 Black Boy by Richard Wright
#84 Spirit of the Laws by Charles de Secondat Baron de Montesquieu <- L'Esprit des Lois by Montesquieu!!!!!! .... remember? comparative legal traditions readings?
#85 Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
#86 Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
#87 Metaphysics by Aristotle
#88 Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder
#89 Institutes of the Christian Religion by Jean Calvin
#90 Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse
#91 Power and the Glory by Graham Greene
#92 Sanctuary by William Faulkner
#93 As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner
#94 Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin
#95 Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by William Steig
#96 Sorrows of Young Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
#97 General Introduction to Psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud
#98 Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
#99 Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Alexander Brown
#100 Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
#101 Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman by Ernest J. Gaines
#102 Emile Jean by Jacques Rousseau
#103 Nana by Emile Zola
#104 Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
#105 Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin
#106 Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
#107 Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein
#108 Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Peck
#109 Ox-Bow Incident by Walter Van Tilburg Clark
#110 Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes

half life is over now

2005-08-01T10:03:00.000-04:00

it is raining again, as it has been for days. the air smells of mildew, earth, and water. the walls are sweating, the puddles starting to form on the ceiling. it feels like the wet outside is seeping into the dry inside, and soon the roof will come down and the walls will fall and there will be only rain, and no longer a place where there is no rain.

an anger wells up in my chest, clogging my throat with frustration. i want it to stop raining, but how can i stop the rain from falling? i cannot close my eyes and pretend it is not raining, i cannot close my ears and not hear. i cannot force the skies to close and the clouds to clear. so i am silent, and it is the most and the least i can do, and nobody but me knows it is raining.

so exciting!

2005-07-21T03:23:00.000-04:00

the new edition of walter woon is out!! 3rd ed., tan cheng han ed. (singapore: sweet & maxwell, 2005)

2005-07-14T09:26:00.000-04:00

correct me if i am wrong, but i don't believe it is possible to purchase a first class ticket on any airline using sia business class fares.

i wonder, can the $1000 man can sue nkf? if i remember correctly, the money under charitable trust obligations can only be used for the object and for related/administrative purposes right? can the administrative purpose ever be so unreasonable as to not be solely administrative any longer? (e.g. the office of a charity may need toilets and taps, and installing these would be ok, but installing gold fittings would not?)
(the above was written without the assistance of any legal texts, off the top of my head, and possibly represents an erroneous legal position. no reliance may be made.)
haha! if i were setting the exam, that's what i would put in the hypo.

-

the t'ang quartet cd: very nice, but it sounds like they went for technical rather than pretty music. it's impressive playing but on the whole it's not something i would put on repeat. but then it's not the cd's fault that it's not really my kinda music.
although the music is good, i can't say the same for the cd jacket. it doesn't look well produced: arty/poseur/cmi photos of the quartet standing in an underpass with alot of light and shadow - how much more pretentious can you get? too many words, poor design, boring cover.. looks like a poly student did it on photoshop for a school project.

returning

2005-07-08T08:14:00.000-04:00

on the plane, i looked out of the window, staring at the dark out of the darkness. below, at 3 a.m., was a tiny patch of lights, dim and washing into itself from so high in the air. i don't know what city that was or what country we flew over. i want to know, but it is an idle want, in the same way that we all want to name the things we know, the things we see, because if we cannot name them we cannot know them.

in that moment, i am closer to the heavens, to the stars rising from and wrapping around the small body of the airplane, than to the humanity below.

the world passes beneath, and the city is gone, still unnamed. the plane comes in to land, and the sky thaws into day, into heat and humidity, into palm trees and hard shiny traffic, into televisions, handphones, and baggage handlers in neon yellow vests.

2005-06-30T01:35:00.000-04:00

i have a new toy
with a colour screen
:D :D :D :D :D :D

2005-06-29T12:58:00.000-04:00

tom* says: u should see my latest wood carving
sandra says: what is it of?
tom says: wood la

* name changed to protect the innocent.

2005-06-29T07:53:00.000-04:00

.... did my blog just rewrite my entry for me???? (see below)

those three to four days

2005-06-28T10:26:00.000-04:00

today when i was coming home from work i saw a raggedy bunch ors are hidden under the newspapers. Well at least it makes packing a bit more exciting.

My end of June resolution is to try a new eaterie in Yuda every week from now on. As I only have 3 weeks left, that only makes three more places. Maybe not quite as prolific as I would have liked, but still better than a month ago.

Tonight I went to Mahoro (or something like that) and it was dead good. The food was new-style Japanese and the restaurant wrapped around a foot onsen. All very chic; and kinda gross in a I-don't-wanna-see-people-washing-their-feet-whilst-I'm-eating kinda way.
eet-whilst-I'm-eating kinda way.

through the years and far away

2005-06-26T11:28:00.000-04:00

it is like the sound of the rain against the pavement, lonely and comforting, or a single piano in the cold.
it is the end of so many things, but there is a point where exhaustion takes over emptiness.
and the resignation, and the tireness, is the sweetest bitter feeling. life is bigger than all of humanity, and what is a single person against the world?

it is cold, and wet, and gray, but turn your face to the sky - the snow is falling and it is beautiful.

the great mysteries of life

2005-06-25T12:54:00.000-04:00

the day after i go chionging, my hair is always super nice/silky. i really wonder why.

the green fairy

2005-06-18T07:23:00.000-04:00

EARC

2005-06-08T10:14:00.000-04:00

i uploaded the photos from earc.

if i could do it again,.... i wouldn't. i had an absolutely horrid time, i was sick, it was hot, and when i think about the place my skin crawls. although it was cool meeting all those people and i love my roommates. and the doctor was so so so sweet.

but that doesn't make it worth it. maybe i'm spoilt, or whatever, but i was sick for more than a week and lost my baby. so i'm not just being difficult and complaining for the heck of it.

i am working now but i have no work to do. and i can't surf the net. i'm so bored, i've been reading parliamentary debates. i've also memorised practically the entire a&g intranet. and i can get into gov.sg sites... some of it is interesting. there's unclaimedmonies.gov.sg, where you can find names of people whom the government owes money to. NUS owes alot of people money.

i am a delicate flower

2005-06-02T08:19:00.000-04:00

i don't understand why

i don't understand how
easily you have broken my heart

i don't feel any pain
a little fall of rain
can hardly hurt me now
...
and rain... will make the flowers grow

vf201

2005-05-22T09:57:00.000-04:00

where are we going? i have only just returned
and it feels like something is missing

can i miss something that i never had?

someone in tomorrow's air waits for me, someone loving and familiar. my heart curls around this security, even if it is a lie.

can't i forget who i am sometimes?

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to good manners and elegance.

In love, you feel the most alive when your partner is patient and never willing to give up on you.

You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring.

You would be forced to break up with someone who was emotional, moody, and difficult to please.

Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything... no secrets.

Your risk of cheating is high. You can't resist desire and lust.

You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred.

In this moment, you think of love as something you don't need. You just feel like flirting around and playing right now.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

i love evan!

destiny is calling me

2005-05-06T05:45:00.000-04:00

in your eyes i can tell you are tired of these things we have already been through
haven't we come here before? this place is familiar to us.
you face me and we have nothing to say,
words dried up between our lips.
we are going round and round.

Once there is a secret between two hearts that love, once one of them has resolved to conceal a single idea from the other, the charm is broken, happiness is destroyed.

my walls are bare and the bed is empty now.
after all this while we are tired, of each other, and we have nothing to face the future with but the past.
how can this be enough?

the driver of a ox-carriage

2005-04-27T15:58:00.000-04:00

i've been reading the pillow book of sei shonagon (circa 950-1000). ("pillow book" is, i gather, another word for "diary", and not whatever your scandalised minds might think.)

i think it's like a 1000 year old japanese version of bryna's blog (which, according to evan, reads like a cross between beckett and edna mode).

E.g.

The driver of an ox-carriage should be a big man; his greying hair should have a slightly reddish tint, and his face should be ruddy. He should also look intelligent.

Attendants and escorts should be slim. I prefer gentlemen also to be on the slender side, at least when young. Stout men always strike me as sleepy-looking.

I like page-boys to be small. They should have beautiful hair that hangs loosely, lightly touching their necks. Their voices must be attractive and their speech respectful; for these are the marks of an adept page.

bryna version:

ok lucky the boyfriend doesn't read this so nevermind. anyway i like guys.

i think guys who drive ox-carriages must be hunky. like got grey hair. or abit red also can. face also must be healthy looking.

and then attendants and escorts should be slim because, i mean, solley la, fat is so not high class. except maybe if you're old la. want to work that kind of job better be good looking collect anot? fat guys always look damn sleepy la really. and this should be the ways things are SO THERE.

stop studying la kanasai.

hahahaha. ok sorry bryna. this is a joke ok. i love you! (although i still love evan the most)

pavane pour une infante defunte

2005-04-20T11:15:00.000-04:00

it feels like.. even as we come together, we are already parting. things end before then have even begun, and we are falling apart, splintering into so many pieces, saying our farewells and taking our leave.

and we are desperately clinging on to what we have, knowing it is transient, pretending it is not.

today is a day like any other. the weather was fine. it did not rain.

many years from now, we will no longer be young.
we will leave behind us a memory of life, grown rusty with time, and have instead a world that we no longer belong to. where we used to go to school, in the classrooms with the dusty windows and filtered sunlight, there will be an office building swimming complex shopping centre condominium. the restaurants we used to frequent, with the red dribbly candles on the tables and the blue water glasses, close down change move away and the prices food waiters decor are no longer the same. the houses where we grew up in will be renovated bulldozed rebuilt changed beyond all recognition.
and we are left standing on the road, the only familiar thing, staring at these spaces which we once knew. the lives engraved into our memory and the world as it has become dissociate, separate, and pull us in two directions.
and the ideals, and passions, and dreams of youth die into our flesh, falling into the lines that mark our eyes, fading with the colours of our hair.

of all the things we lose, what will we regret the most?

2005-04-18T09:29:00.000-04:00

i love you

and sometimes i wonder whether i ever meant anything to you at all.

2005-04-11T12:54:00.000-04:00

Exam Tip of the Day

(this is adrianloo's idea and no plaigarism or breach of intellectual property right is intended.)

Prima facie, examiners are impressed by the use, inter alia, of lots of latin phrases.

If you can't think of any latin words, french will do. Below is an example of how to use french words:

Re Tan Boon Liat [1976] 2 MLJ 83 (High Court, Malaysia)

Abdoolcader J: "Public order is what the French refer to as ordre publique."

As you can see, it is very easy to be profound and meaningful when using impressive-sounding french phrases.

2005-04-07T13:24:00.000-04:00

cannot

cannotcannot cannot cannot cannot cannot

cannot cannot cannot cannot cannot

do you really enjoy these things?

does it really matter? does enjoyment mean anything?

My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness

cannotcannotcannot.

2005-04-01T00:33:00.000-05:00

what's wrong with this picture?

2005-03-28T10:28:00.000-05:00

happiness

so tell me now, as we sit in this empty room,
with chairs stacked up, your face half-lit by the half-light from beyond the door,
how happy you are.

tell me how this is the way things should be. tell me about the friends who love you, about the things you do, about the games you play, about the books you read. tell me about the God you worship, whom you love and who loves you. tell me about the luxury that mantles you, about the richness of your life and about the simplicity of it.

everybody has gone home and only the two of us remain. we have all night, all day, nobody will disturb us. tell me how blessed you are and how you have everything anybody could ever wish for. is not everything perfect? what could be better? what more could you want?

surely there could be nothing better than this. your heart flowers, and flutters, as you speak, your fingers in the air.

surely there could be nothing better. surely there could be nothing more. you smile,
and you tell me you are happy.

2005-03-27T09:52:00.000-05:00

my comments link is finally back.
but the comments are gone.

i hate mosquitoes.