lonesome wanderings

2008-06-05T17:25:00.002+08:00

i believe i have made a post about this before, but a rude search of both blog archives suggests that its become a casualty of my periodic blog-wiping. (did a lot of that back in jc, oh well) Well basically i was talking, i believe, at the end of j1, about the revival of "vintage", the trend of which, as any girl who shops would know, is still very much alive.

back then i was talking about that elegant era, the roaring 20s-- since (if you remember) everyone was wearing low-waisted tent-like things and claiming they were flapper. my basic (and very fundamental) bone with that trend was not that it was being revived, which was brilliant (i bought many a classic dress then) but that its popular manifestations were so far off from its spirit as to render it grotesque. i didn't expect everyone to be donning a bob and wearing silk everywhere, but i did get very riled up at what was passing for "vintage style" on the streets. i mean, jersey dresses with pearls? ridiculous chiffon nonsense with the waistline of a paikia's pinafore? nAAAAAAAAAda.

i reiterate this frustration once again this season, with the further observance that this kind of thing is not restricted to our little island. case in point-NOW fashion, that professes to hark back to the 60s/ 70s (my fave music period- so all the more i'm sore!) allright, so tights are in. but tights with 3 layers of lace, ruching, and polka-dots? that's just BAD. where are those endearingly trashy bright colours, the charming trippy ease of big t-shirts? instead we have the trapeze dress, an abomination of tailoring, that looks like recycled umbrella fabric decorated with unidentifiable squiggles of embroidery.

also, the "festival dress"/ "maxi-dress, now, the so-called "must-have" of the season, i do like-- honestly, i think its extremely flattering. but i resent that it pretends to be part of the 60s- it might seem charming and rustic next to powersuits, but i don't think that's got anything to do with the folk festival associations they're trying to draw. sure, there will be lots of music festivals in the summer (in the uk at least) but trust me, it isnt quite the same to wear them to an indie music gig to mix around with spotty adolescent emos and screamos with scars on their wrists. commercialization is one thing- the mass-produced clothes of today using different fabrics but the same pattern (coughprimarkcough) really irk me sometimes, when they try to claim some kind of cultural heritage. just call it a "long dress", there's no fault in that-- i don't think the 60s singers would appreciate the bling-ed ostentation and factory farmed fashions that people pretend are "inspired" from them now. i think they were striving for a different inspiration altogether.

but "pretend"? do we even know we're pretending? how many people really know enough about the period to be able to rightfully claim a knowledge of its "bohemian spirit"? i don't think the great singer-activists who "inspired" these trends could have approved. all we're reviving is the shell of a movement, its mere raiments, appropriating the prettiest and most marketable elements and commercializing them. what not enough people understand is, this rings the death knell for the movement. now a whole generation of trend-chasers are going to think that to be "bohemian" all you need is a big gypsy skirt (without understanding why the gypsy skirt was adopted back then) and a wide waist belt. i have mentioned before a woodstock teeshirt in forever21, which people seem to browse through without even blinking.

being preoccupied with history, as i'm not ashamed of admitting, all this fosters an involuntary shudder in me that's beyond just a sartorial cringe. we're appropriating, aren't we? creating imagined traditions and caricaturing a past that is still within living memory. what else, then, are we going to feed our consumer god? seeing as how woodstock is now a commercially run festival, i cannot help but feel that we have entered a nihilistic new era, one devoid of all meaning save capital. nothing is sacred anymore; nothing else is safe from its hungry, oppressive arms.

2008-01-25T22:00:00.001+08:00

i refer you to this website.
i am not wont to knock such things, especially since they're good fun and for good causes, but it has some definite implications that are pretty disturbing, i guess.

the premise for this website is a vocab game: you match words to definitions, and for every correct definition you donate 20 grains (20 grains?! wtf)(and why is the bowl a scrappy wooden one? hello culturally weighted aesthetic) of rice to a poor starving soul somewhere in the world, at the same time expanding your knowledge of weird and wonderful language. (my current highscore is 43) and i would strongly encourage everyone to have a go at this... especially before a gp exam.

but thinking about it on a different level, it is perhaps disturbing that the english language is here a prerequisite for salvation: why should anyone's appetite be determined by the rest of the world's knowledge of a very particular language? to dismiss it as a necessary by-product of globalization and convenience would be missing the point: although a lot of these words incorporate elements of scientific jargon and terminology of other cultures, it is essentially a pigeonholing process that equates salvation with the dominant discourses of worldwide uniformity.

as any student of literature (or any subject, really) who is familiar with the modernists and postmodernists should be constantly conscious of, language is never objective, however wide its franchise in the world. it carries with it strong cultural and political associations-- the implications of which, of course, vary with time and geography-- but it is essentially a tool of power and a means of enforcing hegemony. our (singapore's) own adoption of english as informal lingua franca is evidential of our neocolonial political values; suppressing local dialects and imposing a uniform administrative language is a means of suppressing minorities: it was and continually is a tool of empire. if the british empire itself is not evidence enough, one need only look to contemporary china in which 'standard' chinese blankets regional dialects; and the original 'speak mandarin' movement in singapore. or even refer to eden, where man names the animals: using language to exert his superiority over voiceless Others, defining their qualities by his own standards.

so while donating rice, 20 grains by 20 grains (what a measly amount! why not 1kg by 1kg) we must remember not to get our heads too inflated: by this act we are, indeed, doing an undeniably good deed, but by so doing we are submitting to the precepts of the site, which among them assume the discourses and impetuses of globalization and uniformity to be true, and which, as we have seen in history, often fail when applied to the specifics of different countries' and cultures' situations. we ought not to plough blindly, then, cruising along with these easy narratives of 'doing good'- they are often as commercialised and trendy as the sugar and bananas we buy without inquiring into their exploitative origins. (this awareness in myself newly coming from studying the cultural history of food... awesomest module ever!) in the context of the uni's present one world week (which is extremely reductionist) it is perhaps a good point to pause and reflect on our simplifyings and trend-folllowings: the UN's solutions to hunger and poverty are far from untainted-- its very foundations here in language itself show their contamination.

what perhaps might be a better thought-exercise is to take a etymological approach to this website (and its really fun imo, especially to a nerd like me) and examine the words for their roots. its interesting to keep in mind that english is a mestizo language, and that the roots of words we take for granted really draw from a myriad of other languages and cultures, which, with our mangled appropriations we are now attempting to bulldoze.

2008-01-21T09:35:00.001+08:00

birds are singing at 1am; its a horrible trait of modernity that they, too, have to get up early to beat the morning traffic.

i am writing while waiting for nigel to come online; having given up trying to finish middlemarch tonight. i am struck and staggered by the sheer affirmative power of this book, which i think ought to be compulsory reading for all humanity-- instead of the trite sentimentality that pretends towards redemptive philosophies on life-- such as 'Tuesdays with Morrie,' which is really, i have no words for the pathethic-ness of that book. (which i have read, by the way, so i have full right to knock it.)

the sense of a grandeur within human nature that infuses every one of us, the affirmation that every action is understandable, every individual forgivable and pitiable-- it is a remarkable rallying-cry for kindness and warmth that is sorely needed, especially today. we don't need canned tripe or simplistic and childish 'love conquers all' nonsense-- here is a considered and realistic view of optimism, which does not simply affirm or tout pretty ideals but posits a thoroughly valid philosophy for making the world better; and which takes as its first assumption the fact that the world is far from perfect, that it is really imperfectible, and that human contact is frustratingly difficult to establish. it calls for a more thoroughly emphatic view to be held towards all people-- even the most perceptibly odious and contemptible have their private griefs, their personal tragedies, uneasy truces with conscience- that we all do share. and while in this humanistic world all people get their just desserts, they are not unmitigated by that forgiveness and human companionship which is the only quality by which redemption can come.

so then the most lowly peasant can grope his way to salvation: not through any egotistic 'self-improvement' or through any grand narratives or political ideals-- but rather through his most basic instinct for fellow-feeling, which although by nature approximate is the best approximation to action and the most exalted of all feelings.

and in this age of increasing isolation and loneliness it is perhaps apt that we look to these sages once again: if i would i could buy everyone i knew a copy of this book-- this, if any book may be rated as such, has the real, earthy, life-changing power that we perhaps have need of in this world.

2008-01-05T18:18:00.000+08:00

i'd almost forgotten how his handwriting looked like; that first initiation to character-- on my part, at least, for whom the work of hands has always been important. so to see it again-- torn paper; too tired to read- was a jolt of sorts.

-----

there once was a love and then it turned into something else. this is the story of many and any; the essence of which is detritus. to use a cheap metaphor: fire burns and leaves behind ashes: nothing can happen without leaving marks of impact; residue.

so some things turn mellow like wine; others veer into vinegar; and yet others are consumed by ever-present decay. it would be so much easier should the human race be infected with collective amnesia: no grudges, then; no lingering longing, no slow fizzle to the death- lifting the curse of histories.

but what, too can be argued for a life of instances?

-----

and looking down on my own distracted notes i acknowledge the fond fact surreptitiously, how mine has become as his- not the same, nor still questing inwardly for some sort of renaissance or reconstruction -- only a feeble yet persistent remembering. so these traces, then. these traces.

2007-12-29T02:51:00.000+08:00

quite a rant;

well i was walking around forever 21 the other day with ben chen and we saw this shirt that had woodstock (the snoopy character) perched on one end of a guitar, and a slogan saying 'peace, love and woodstock'. we both kind of sniggered at the irony and then bantered a bit about taking a poll to see how many people who picked up the shirt understood the reference, and how many understood the irony implicit in commercializing woodstock. (it's like having a tight trendy tee made in china by child labour, marked up by a large company with good branding, that says 'i support the hippies!' on large print. Goes well with skinny jeans.)

i think we're losing something here.
it seems to me that modern culture is referencing previous movements, whether philosophical, political, cultural, artistic or whatever-- without fully understanding their meanings, and passing them on mangled to the next um, time frame? The thing is that these concepts and works have all been fabricated with an intention; a sort of essence. there is a myriad of possible interpretations, all valid, but there are also wrong interpretations. Reading the Holocaust, for example, you can suggest millions of interpretations of the motivations of various actors and victims; you can draw morals or inspiration; you can condemn or forgive; but you can never say that it didn't happen-- as David Irving has tried.

to apply this to commercialism-- case in point: van gogh. while i think he deserves the posthumous recognition for his talent, and perhaps adopt an image as a badge of your misunderstood depth of emotion and personal pain/depression/ insert mental disease crutch here. because in van gogh there is always a sense of frustration-- he is the stereotypical starving artist, painting by compulsion to express something intense and internal in an impatient sweep on the canvas. Snap summary truncated here
well so imagine my horror when i find 'starry starry night' used in an ad for skin serums. Sure its a painting of a night sky, but its extremely dynamic, if not turbulent. there is an incredible sense of motion thorughout the painting, and the brush strokes are vigorous and far from peaceful or smooth. it's a picture of great immensity and profound beauty and power. But who would want skin like this??? it's like saying HEY COME BUY THIS ITS ACNE IN A BOTTLE! by using van gogh as such, the value of this painting is reduced to little more than just a pretty picture.

beyond the har-har-stupid-plebs value of slimming centres advertising their services with reubens, i think we are dealing with a monumental loss: made all the more so by the fact that we don't even know the value of what we are losing. i'm not arguing for taxi drivers to be able to name and date every single movement or historical event, but i'd certainly like a greater selfconsciousness and awareness. so think of me and my more-informed-than-than-thou condemnation the next time you shop 'vintage'.

2007-12-11T05:30:00.001+08:00

IM HOOOOMEEEEEEEEEE

2007-12-01T18:36:00.000+08:00

if anyone was wondering; yes! im still alive, and going for life drawing every week. :) im improving!

also, i am going to be home on 9 dec, and im absolutely DYING to go to the beach.. you know the drill, i'll have my old number back again; etc. so contact me and we'll go out to lazy around somewhere/shopping/thrifting/ bookhunting/ etc.

2007-11-02T07:00:00.001+08:00

the measure of a good uni is the scope of its education; i can safely inform you that mine is about the most brilliant around. apart from the diversity of courses which you can choose from, and the university's position on the forefront of scholarship; constantly blazing new academic trails-- you also learn from the experience of living on your own and managing your affairs; as well as living without adult supervision amongst your peers, with whom you are free to drink all you want. the result is a very wide scope of skills which you learn both from the course itself and from the very experience of being at uni. nothing you've known before can really prepare you for it.

i believe my uni education truly off-the-scale awesome: how many people, apart from learning about academic rigour and techniques, as well as cooking, cleaning, social relations, etc. get to make an andean freeze dried potato?
its actually a real assignment we'll have to bring to class upon completion; its making involved freezing a potato, thawing, squeezing it, freezing it again, thawing, squeezing, ad infinitum till there is no longer a difference between the frozen and the thawed versions of the potato.
this is a time-honoured potato preservation technique from the andean highlands: used to preserve the plenty in times of good harvests, and to stave off hunger in times of bad. (to use the potato again you have to rehydrate it)

so, to widen my historical understanding, i find myself in my kitchen squeezing a mushy potato into the sink, wondering why i had to be ambitious and but the hugest one from tesco. (organic grown, as well, for the *authentic* touch)
i'm really quite tickled by the whole affair, and am going to name my potato (chern suggests 'Spud'; this other girl in my seminar was going to name hers 'Andy') and bring it home. and hoping my housemates read the mote ive stuck on the fridge begging them not to mistake it for something rotten and throw it away. if you were wondering about what it feels like to be squeezing a potato on a cold winter's night... you'd be glad to know that, like all exercise, it warms you up. the potato juice squirts in small jets out of the potato's eyes first, then the skin sorta flakes off and it gets easier to squeeze. of course, i'd own i have an advantage here, having spent many a long afternoon squeezing cucumbers for achar. anyway th potato's really reduced in size, and i'm really quite pleased with myself! i only hope my extra efforts can serve to cover for the time i'm going to spend away during reading week; apparently you're supposed to have squeezed the potato about 12 times (omg) before it is finally and definitively freeze-dried.

perhaps our tutor was intending this exercise as a sort of surrogate stress-relief activity- a premodern stress-ball, if you may. or as a be- thankful- you're- not- a- poor- villager- squeezing- potatoes- all- day- and- FINISHYOURFOODUNGRATEFULWRETCH kinda thing. or as an exercise in historical reconstruction. at any rate, ive spent half an hour at the sink squeezing that darned thing!

all you who are taking the o's... be glad you're not squeezing potatoes.

2007-10-16T06:44:00.000+08:00

you have to listen to this on crappy speakers. im learning to like my "new" com by degrees: starting with the shitty speakers, which lend a lovely old-world charm to these my old songs, in accordance with my obsession with the past.

baez sings dylan- restless farewell.

Oh all the money that in my whole life I did spend,
Be it mine right or wrongfully,
I let it slip gladly past the hands of my friends
To tie up the time most forcefully.
But the bottles are done,
We've killed each one
And the table's full and overflowed.
And the corner sign
Says it's closing time,
So I'll bid farewell and be down the road.

Oh ev'ry boy that ever l've touched,
I did not do it harmfully.
And ev'ry boy that ever I've hurt,
I did not do it knowin'ly.
But to remain as friends and make amends
You need the time and stay behind.
And since my feet are now fast
And point away from the past,
I'll bid farewell and be down the line.

Oh ev'ry foe that ever I faced,
The cause was there before we came.
And ev'ry cause that ever I fought,
I fought it full without regret or shame.
But the dark does die
As the curtain is drawn and somebody's eyes
Must meet the dawn.
And if I see the day
I'd only have to stay,
So I'll bid farewell in the night and be gone.

Oh, ev'ry thought that's strung a knot in my mind,
I might go insane if it couldn't be sprung.
But it's not to stand naked under unknowin' eyes,
It's for myself and my friends my stories are sung.
But the time ain't tall,
Yet on time you depend and no word is possessed
By no special friend.
And though the line is cut,
It ain't quite the end,
I'll just bid farewell till we meet again.

Oh a false clock tries to tick out my time
To disgrace, distract, and bother me.
And the dirt of gossip blows into my face,
And the dust of rumors covers me.
But if the arrow is straight
And the point is slick,
It can pierce through dust no matter how thick.
So I'll make my stand
And remain as I am
And bid farewell and not give a damn.

2007-10-01T04:42:00.000+08:00

hey what happened to me? -- well, i'm back in uni now, having had a good three months of summer, basically stuffing myself at home and then coming over to continue stuffing myself in portugal. also had a lovely trip to Norfolk, where one of my housemates Jasmine lives, which is a beautiful countryside.
Term starts tomorrow and i have barely dented my readings. you cant really blame me though since im currently ploughing my way through middlemarch. its very good, though, so im not complaining.
The new house we're in is big and its very homey, we've all done our places up nicely. im quite happy.

this post though is a shout out to all the girls in cedar- good luck you all on the o's- you can all murder the exams, blindfolded and hung upside down over a blazing fire i bet it wont be hard to keep rattling off the reacitivity series, the structure and function fo the digestive system and shakespeare without stopping-- otherwise, what are you doing staring at my blog still! tchh tch tch

well, just kidding. id like to tell you all to be confident and to take it easy a bit for now- and to aim high because you -can- do it!! (and try to stick to the narrative essays in english) believe in yourselves a bit more, cos you're all doing well and dont give yourselves enough credit imo! hang in there, it'll be over soon.

if anyone should need any help about work/ questions about jc/life/that cue pair of shoes on ebay, etc please dont be shy to email me or to just leave a not. i cant promise to be the most unbiased or most wise advisor, but i'll get back to you with nay help i can. Missing you all and good luck! and of course dont forget you owe me a party in dec!

2007-07-18T22:18:00.000+08:00

have i yet gloated that i am the rummage bin queen? well, i am. and i managed to get slingback stockings, 2 lovely sets of bedsheets for next year, as well as a comfy pair of slippers at the metro sale-- all for under $50. you see, living in a dump has its advantages, keen eyesight being one of the better ones. i enjoy crowds and i enjoy the infernal mess and rush of rummage bin sales: its something about losing yourself in the molecules- what space is there for noticing, what space is there for piqued consciousness? so, like hiding in plain sight, the most crowded of places becomes the most private, in which i can with relief lose myself.

2007-06-14T21:55:00.000+08:00

well, what can i say.. my exams are over and ive settled my modules, and happily ordered a shitload of c ds from amazon, along with some books. richard burton, ftw. also one of my texts for next year which has just arrived and is MASSIVE. i dont mind too much though, seeing as its poetry, but its still a lot.
i like joan baez more and more-- she covered jackson browne! awesome.

havent been doing much; been out with nigel; also sewing. buying cloth scraps to sew with and also cool vintage SHOOZIES.

2007-06-04T22:25:00.001+08:00

I miss the pain
I miss the barstool and the smoke
I'd always liked the rain
And who are you to fix what isn't broke

sometimes when i think back about school-- this strange exam- induced nostalgia-- but yeah. i should and will not post a deliberately emo entry.

strangely enough i dont think i could stomach any much more of this art history; its as though everything ive always wanted to do was high pretence. of course its disillusioning, disappointing no doubt, as i suppose you could say is youth and perhaps life in general. nevertheless, its back to lit and history, my first loves. read into it what metaphor you like.

on another note though, [and hopefully undiscoverable to the people from assassins guild!] i'm on the module for the social history of food in lain america, as well as medicine and society in early modern britain.... juicy.

x- posted.

2007-04-11T22:46:00.000+08:00

one of those i first heard at your place. thank you for the music, and for the best year i've lived.

joan baez:
May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

2007-04-11T18:07:00.000+08:00

i'm eating and sleeping my way to the Nirvana of Dying Early and Suddenly of Heart Dsease. there isn't really much to say apart from that i've written an intro to one of three essays and realised that the hundred odd pages i photocopied off victor savage's book isn't much help in understanding wallace. and, of course, a complete waste of money.

also procrastinating on doing the maths re: the skirt from scratch which is my Project of the Holiday, however dubious sounding it is. i've hemmed it up and sewed the zip already, i just haven't done the pleats. It doesn't really mean much, save that i'm in incredibly lazy arse. i've not even added on the top to the pair of capris i'd started before i left. Wallace gives me a rather deprecaory explanation: it must be this Oriental climate which so induces sluggishness; which my Oriental heritage simply predisposes me to. So it's not really my fault, go ask the nineteenth century naturalists...

2007-04-04T21:52:00.000+08:00

i've got something to exorcise, which is why i'm writing here, i guess. there probably isn't much point in it, really, and i wonder who reads this still anyway, seeing as i update so rarely. [if you do read give me a shout! id apreciate it, even all you ghosts out there]

and try my best to avoid sounding angsty.

[edit]all this is a jumble of random nonsense, though, so my advice is for everyone to stop reading here.

i went to the south east asian collection in the national library yesterday, after spending a good day at cedar catching up with everyone. managed to get the requisite books for my long essay, and realised [VERY BELATEDLY and to my own embarrassment] that alfred russel wallace was the guy who co-came up with? discovered? the theory of evolution with darwin. and that his middle name is spelt with only one L. [took me so many permutations of his name to get the book up on the records-- which just goes to show how clevaaaaar i am] his travel account reads very much like most of the other nineteenth century writers we've done, though, so i guess i'll just ahve to read it more closely, or, at least, read further past the measly few pages ive done. i took one looka t the books and decided it was pointless. took notes on the intro to wallace, and photocopied millions of pages off this and also an auxillary text which would probably shed further light on the writing.

in light of my module i have bought millions of books, one fo which i have just finished reading and which i am practically frothing at the mouth with recommending to anything that can remotely breathe. its called white mughals, and is by william dalrymple. its history, but exceedingly well- written, and is the kind of popularly intended writing that the world needs. [i dont think its v popularly read though i may be wrong. i dont know.] it is books like this, and not soppy nonsense like 'tuesdays with morrie' from which we can derive real lessons: the exclusive and intense focus on the self and an imagined community leads surely to exculsivity, ignorance and misunderstanding. moreover, navel- gazing introspection never did anything for anyone. nowadays i prefer to lose myself in history than to reminisce; i dont see the point in recording angst, and committing such thoughts on paper never really helped me figure them out as it should, only wasted paper and caused personal embarrassment later on. wasted bandwidth. whatever. [to this extent i am a hypocrite, clearly this is what im doing again]

i find myself rather enamoured with the 'hero' [if there are any heroes in history] of the book james kirkpatrick, haha. that's not really the point.

im thinking of sometime going back to the safti library to have a squid around; as i was telling mingyong im unhealthily attached to places and things. going back to them now im home is somewhat like a pilgrimage, especially when ive got to mrt all the way across the lines to get to them, as going to ghim moh and etc are. these have to stop.

what i don't really understand is how i've never had it so good, and been in such great self doubt about it at the same time. its a kind of insecurity, but in a less lucid, less direct form.

changing the topic again, i haven't yet started on my essays!!!! yeek! i've been reading around in a sort of sloppy fashion [and most of my reading ive already finshed] but im just too much of a slob to start actually writing. i suppose its my fault, esp on the history essay, picking a boring topic so that i'd have less work. it's probably easier, but im not going to enjoy it as much as digesting wallace's rambles around the region.

nigel's been a sweetheart and has contacted me almost every day since i left for home [he busying himself with his solo european adventure] which does [as opposed to Other partings of such periods which ive been through before] make ti a lot easier. not easy still, but easier. and of course there is the food which i am stuffing myself silly with, and good company to share it with. though in the same vein id say that i dont want to see a lto of the people who want to see me hahaha.

and i ahve, quite suddenly run out of things to say!! back to sleep, or to wallace, or to EARLY NINETEENTH CENTURY IMPERIALISM boo hoo hoo i think that i shall be an arse and start sewing again [im sewing myself a skirt from scratch i have NO IDEA how it will go but i LOVES my SEWING MACHINEE sewing is teh hot

2007-03-14T06:43:00.000+08:00

hey all-- im back from23 mar to 2o apr-- though in paris from this sat till then :) I CANT WAIT
syafiqah: what shall i bring back for you?? my coursemates are unfortunately not hot so i cant dabao them heh. sorry about that... you are all welcome to fix a date and crash my house and i'll bake you something and you can have it with umm nice balsamic vinegar and olive oil...??? imo thats the nicest thing im bringing back [apart from my blooming culinary skillZ]-- i shvent seen much that much great in the uk really. heh. though the oil and vinegar are really good:i got them from a gourmet shop at leamington spa. John [my lovely housemate] says leam is chav city on weekends though :(

IM GOING SHOPPING TMR TO COV WHEE you know ive accumulated so much stuff its quite insane.. i came here with two suitcases and two boxes; now ive got so much stuff its not funny at all!! packing this term was bad enough; i wonder how im going to manage for summer!

2007-03-09T21:09:00.000+08:00

hellooo all you sexies reading my blog i will be homeeeee from 23 mar- 20 april feel free to fill out my schedule!
i wont have my old hp number though so ummmm i guess tag/ email/whatever. i'll prob get a pay as you go or something-- see how it goes

and my girls at cedar: im def going back :) also if anyones bored enough i'll prob be studying at the national library some days so you can come alon as well.. i'll be nerding it out in the south east asian collection cos ive got a cool essay to research for :)

2007-01-24T08:27:00.000+08:00

HELLO EVERYONE ITS SNOWING WHERE I AM IF IT ISNT WHERE YOU ARE, WELL, SUCKS TO BE YOU!!!!!

everyones got out of their rooms and is outside watching the snow and throwing snowballs and jumping aropund ITS SNOWING ITS SNOWING ITS SNOWING ive never seen snow before ZOMG ITS SNOWINGGGGGGGGG its getting all white outside, and [well, to qualify all that, some idiot thought it a good idea to tell everyone by setting off the fire alarm] bUT SNOW SNOW SNOW SNOW SNOW

2007-01-20T05:45:00.001+08:00

omg i need this on mt itunes NOW!

2007-01-16T11:30:00.000+08:00

WELCOME BACK TO TERM SAYS THE FIRE ALARM AT 1030PM
WELCOME BACK TO TERM SAYS THE FIRE ALARM AT 230AM
WELCOME BACK TO TERM SAYS THE FIRE ALARM AT 3AM

2007-01-10T00:28:00.000+08:00

why google is taking everything over, including blogger, is beyond me. i thought it was supposed ot be a nice antiestablishment indie thing. well, so long as it works, i guess.

stuff's gone missing from my cupboard over the holidays, which was upsetting but ive gotten over it. accoms has been rather anal so i dot think i'll get it back, but then again whats there i can do? shrug. i am hairbandless now, if you wanted to know. the person took a multi plug, washing powder, trinklet boxes with jewellery and something like 20 hairbands. they didnt even leave me one!!!!! but nevermind i shant think about it aymore for the sake of moving on and sanity

post christmas reductions arent making a good enough way into the U, basically i havwnt done enough shopping to be satiated yet. however, i have got an edward monkton travel journal for 2 quid hahaha. and also a datebook, so everyone, or whever reads this, hit me with your birthdays and such so i may at least send you greetings. i know im awful at remembering anyway, but this is an attempt to improve on that.

am still sick, but eating creatively i guess, since i am marginally better. chern gave me a vinaigrette shaker for christmas filled with chocolates and fisherman's friends and crysanthemum tea sachets, the chocolae being below the latter because i ahve to get past them before i can eat the choc. hahaha

skype has been jumpy which is a complaint! do ask for my username if you ahve skype too

i cont believ school has started already! am dreading all the readings, and think i shall start on my mmw essay early to avoid the congestion in week 6 so that i may explore Cambridge with impunity. or go to Paris. whichever. .....mmmshopping

2007-01-04T05:43:00.000+08:00

i have been SICK. which raises the question about what angmohs eat as sick food. there is a severe lack of edible things for sick people here. the only thing ive had in the last 5 days that didnt make me convulse is porridge. with varying vegetable ingredients, most notably sweet potato, the consumption of which makes me feel like a WW2 veteran. i HATE being sick-- the doctor actually prescribed me nothing and told me to rest and get better by myself--- i honestly dont feel like thats happening at all.

nigel has been really good, taking care of me and basically waiting on me hand and foot, though he tends to waltz around with chocolate biscuits and dried fruit and AGHHHH WHY CAN I NOT EAT

but anyway, school starts again next monday, which is going to be chiong sua all over again. uni life is pretty much summed up in those words if you're determined on doing well. its all personal effort basically, you can cut as many classes as you like but in the end you are the one to face the music. my attitude has been to be kiasu, which im not sure is the most viable option, but nevermind. school does tire me out, but its rewarding in its own right. may i get well before getting back into the fray!

2006-11-29T06:43:00.001+08:00

i went to the post box in the kitchen today and one of my hallmates was like.' youve got a letter.' the other one went 'Again.' and then they both went 'its NOT FAIR!'
but yes what i get in the post certainly does merit jealousy. today i got a christmas card from 2A!!! and its really sweet. thank you all so much i was like melting into a puddle there and then. AWWWW THANKS SO MUCH it really really did make my week. ive been absolutely miserable, what with essays and a the library avign next to nothing on prud'hon and only german texts on friedrich. :(

in other words chern and ihave a 6-year plan: to open the restaurant of everyone's dreams!

2006-11-16T08:25:00.000+08:00

all i know of you is in my memory
and all i ask is you remember me
do i?
i am distracted from writing my travel eurasia essay, which is annoying. this is the problem with typing straight into the computer [in russian you pronounce kompyoouter] especially when the kompyooter in question has internet and your brain has just been fried by dva hours of cyrillic. i had [unsurprisingly] chosen the wrong essay again. as usual being ambitious and picking something with an insane scope while i could settle for a wimpy analysis of ibn battutah's religious perspective or something. holdover from rj. yes, yes. [consider i did ts eliot where i could have done frost for lit. yes yes yes.]

i wonder how i am remembered, really. but then thats another cryptic statement.
speaking of cryptic there is a prob im sup to dl to type cyrillic on the com. i want it! russian so cool [ha ha i am so bad at it]

btw i hate footnoes and biblios and MLA format nonsense. i believe i have said this before but UGH I TAKE LIKE AN HOUR TO DO THEM! GROSSNESS.

im also learning a lot of interesting random facts in my modules. amused. marzipan. you knwo marzipan? is calles marzipan cos it was made in the city of st mark in italy. therefore st mark's bread. marzipan. COOLNESS. and also the assassins were a bunch of arab brigands who got high and killed people. cool. some later travellers went to the middle east to spread revolution in the hope that this tradition would form a like, basis of common motivation or something. poor misguided souls. omg im such a geek. but anyway thats where the word originates from! coolness

2006-11-15T00:36:00.000+08:00

random thought; and dont laugh at me okay! the current topic in my mmw module is ecology.
so, ive had the captain planet song stuck in my head for forever. it was just pretty bad!!!!! like throughout the lecture the guy is talking about arcadia! and romanticism! and [gasp] caspar david friedrich! and im trying to process all that and note it down to the tune of and he's fighting on the planet's side...
the truth is that when you look past the happy disneyfication, the reality of a lot of these trendy movements are rooted in much less ideal circumstances. if the scientific revolution objectified and reduced nature, rendering it a giant machine then as berger rightly states God becomes a distant, passive force that is no longer manifested in the everyday. perhaps thre is a certain loss of innocence; and we pine for an Eden in an essentially sentimentalised and escapist sense. doing modern world history and lit is enlightening in that, i can clearer understand a lot of the phenomena that we take for granted and dont think twice about today.

you could go all postmodern and talk about being disillusioned and dispossessed now, but nevermind.
back to random musing. when i was a kid i never understood why there was a wimpy boy whose power was 'heart'. it just didnt seem v efficacious- hello i'd prefer the coolness and destructive potential of like PWOAR FIRE WIND WATER etc anytime. but then when you think back on it, it -is- very poignant. you cannot do anything without the will.

2006-11-11T00:04:00.000+08:00

omg i hate essays and departmental divisions!!!!! i dont believe i have to write and cite differently for every single subject i am taking-- thats insane. i have therefore to learn three different formats for writing essays JUST BEcAUSE. that's just disgusting. i rushed my french rev essay so thats going to be crap. am now hesitating to start on my essay on ts eliot, which i have done good thorough research on but have a hugonomous mental block preventing me from starting. needless to say ia hve been distracted. ive spent the week at cambridge so far and no way do i want to go back to my small poky little room!!!! agh. in the spirit of spoiling myself rotten i bought six slabs of FUDGE ZOMG for twenty quid but hell, its so sinful! if you ever go to cambridge remember to suss out the fudge kitchen. mmmmmmmmmm

yes i do realise i am talking rubbish and that this is completely counterproductive. my essay is due monday so there is NO ESCAPE GARH and this -shou;d- be the best time to write it considering nigel is at italian class and thus its the best time to concentrate. oh man i am such a time waster :(

2006-11-03T05:10:00.000+08:00

how many times can a man turn his head and pretend that he just cannot see

hello everyone; apologies for the lack of updates! ive been very busy, which i know isnt an excuse :) im quite hapy; ive done my research for one and 3/4 of the essays that are due in week7, and have a clever dick idea for the one due in week 8. which i intend to do over reading week, hopefully. i've settled in nicely here- bumming around and cooking well [ZOMG chern and i amaze each other every day, didnt know that you could permute foods in so many ways! we've stocked her kitchen for a seige, and basically the larder is so full that when you open the door you ahve to be careful or things will fall on your head!! we go on crazy experimenting stretches; for eg a while back we were adding balsamic to everything; this week we've been adding thyme to everything... and we even ambitiously bought a PUMPKIN HOORAY! so far we've eaten like half. hur hur hur good luck us. i actually had no idea pumpkins and potatoes were so hard to chop! cherns parents are up this week- and they brought us a CLEAVER MWA HA HA HA HA. the knives we'd bough from argos are wimpy. theyre floppy. if you smash garlic with them you ahve to hit REALLY hard, and then he knife bends and the garlic is like, maybe marginally dented is all. haha. /gush]

daylight saving time kicked in last sunday; so now we're eight hours behind singapore. the sun sets earlier and its getting colder here. the trees are turning; though no su-ann, we dont have nice big piles of leaves to jump into.. the warwick maintenence crew blow them away with leaf blowers. hahaha. it was quite funny like yesterday we had a history lecture and some guy was blowing leaves VERY LOUDLY outside the accr; and then we couldnt hear the lecturer. so the lecturer went and opened the door and framed in the doorway was this poor hapless guy appily blowing leaves and the lecturer like, looked at him for a while, and then tapped his shoulder to like erm inform him that the leaf blower was too noisy. and then everyone like appluaded. weird student life. im finding crawling out of bed hard to get to 9am lect!!!! how we have fallen. to hink that i ahve six years of waking up at 6am ahead!!!!! nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!! hopefully [and i think he is] nigel is better at hauling me out of bed than i am.

am rather happily brain dead cos ive just had a good dinner, and actually ploughed through FIVE BOOKS TODAY WOOHOO! i mean if you think about it, i read maybe 3 chapters per book. so if you think about it, ive read liek 1.1 books in the span of a morning! chern and i then went to do exploring around the campus before i happily went late for my mmw sem, which i totally smoked through. heh. i did a pres on ezra pound a few days back and basically spent half of it explaining the ideograms [basically chinese words] he wrote into his poetry and happily wrote random chinese characters on the board and explained how they linked to the reality depicted by basically distorting the words into pictures. and explainign pian pang and stuff like that. which though was technically smoking and showing off after the standard pres on his philosophy and such, but also v interesting cos like the class asked v interesting questions and also it was fun to doodle in pink chalk! squee! pink chalk!

i know it probably sounds a bit hypocritical/ xenophobic to say this, but ive been thinking about the idea of our 'otherness' as asians quite a lot, residing in an european culture. at first it was amusing/insulting to have people go 'oh you speak such good english!' and 'Singapore.. thats in China right?" but yeah-- there is a v compelling interest. one of my modules is called 'travelling Eurasia' and talks about the interconnectedness of Asia and Europe from antiquity; one of the key concepts therein being Orientalism as described by Edward Said. The idea of monolithic 'Us' and 'Them' cultural or political entities does indeed build a barrier towards thought, and facilitates the development of cliche and stereotype and of course, novelty. [if you remember the new imperialism quite about the french empire and the belly dance] its quite interesting to stand back for a moment and watch how others percieve me and how i impose "oriental values" onto myself, consciously or unconsciously [the latter which is detectable in retrospect] in my daily life. its not something i judge people on, just an interesting intellectualization. and no i am not a hermit with no friends. haha

im looking forward to tomorrow! which is a free day! Organising my timetable was hell but yes!! i have FRIDAYS OFF! chern's parents are coming on friday evening and we're all going to have dinner :) and on sat im gonna take myself, my readings and formal wear off to cambridge where i get to spend the entire week with Nigel-- sightseeing and attending everybody's formals and er i was gonna say shopping but im broke so errrr. cooking. AND AND AND AND SITTING IN THE FITZWILLIAM ALL DAY AAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAA dyou know my senior mok lent me the gallery guides for THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND THE UFFIZI ZOMG ZOMG ZOMG SWOONS AND DIES. i wan to go camp out in london soon. so exciting!!!!!! i prob wont be saying the same thing tomorrow when im off the moratorium and back up to my neck in books. hahaha

2006-10-31T04:50:00.000+08:00

You Are Expressionism

Moody, emotional, and even a bit angsty... you certainly know how to express your emotions.

At times, you tend to lack perspective on your life, probably as a result of looking inward too much.

This introspection does give you a flair for the dramatic. And it's even maybe made you cultivate some artistic talents!

You have a true artist's temperament... which is a blessing and a curse.

What Art Movement Are You?

i am very amused
on the same note; my history of art lect and sem has been cancelled this week! more free time to clear readings!!! good show.

is it just me btw or has a mysterious prompt come up on my website for some password?

2006-10-01T04:28:00.000+08:00

getting used to my little poky room and movin around; so far we've visited coventry and oxford. tomorrow we're thinking fo doing leamington. I NEED SHOPPING AAGH

2006-09-28T05:14:00.000+08:00

greetings form the uk! and my tiny little room. ive been here a coupla days, and the weather has in general ben kind. its getting colder though, so i hope its neough time for me to get used to eating jacket potatoes in order that i put on enough fat for winter.

settling in, not feeling so happy for a variety of reasons, but i'll be okay in a while. no major problems; we went to coventry today; and also tesco's. you won't believe the amount of instant food there is. ITS GROSS! i resolve never to eat it unless i have a MAJORPMGIMPORTANTEXAM tmr or something; otherwise i swear i will get cancer before im 20.

anyway my address for term time is
Rre55
Rootes
University of Warwick
Coventry CV4 7AL

2006-09-01T10:58:00.000+08:00

i DID go back to cedar yesterday, but i didnt manage to see everyone amidst the confusion. not ideal, but hell, ive missed everybody. im going to go back in the first week of school okay? everybody, mark midweek down. if youre free afternoons, we can do lunch or something. :)

2006-08-21T22:56:00.001+08:00

christabel! its PEDophile and not peedophile!
i found out, unfortunately, by watching hard candy today. which was VERY TRAUMATISING HOMG. it was so painful to sit through!!!! not because it was a bad movie-- rather, it manipulated the audience's feelings very well. i was like squirming in my seat, and i think nigel was like going to faint or something [if you think about it, engaging castration scenes would traumatise guys more than girls. hurhur.]

have more nice beads!! proper turquoise, for one, and adorable little pliers things!!!!

2006-08-17T12:32:00.000+08:00

"Walter Pater suggests an explanation of this persistent malancholy. He thinks that Botticelli had adopted a theory, held by one of the philosophers fo the day, that the human race had descended from those angels who, when war arose in heaven, had remained neutral, fighting neither for God nor his enemies. This (to quote from Pater) 'interprets much of the peculiar sentiment with which he infuses his profane and sacred persons,-- comely, and in a certain sense like angels, but with a sense of displacement or loss about them, .... always attractive, clothed sometimes by passion with a character of loveliness and energy, but saddened perpetually by the shadow upon them of the great things from which they shrink. It is this which gives to his Madonnas their unique expression and charm.... for with Botticelli she too, though she hold in her hands 'the Desire of all nations', is one of those who are 'neither for God nor his enemies': and her choice is on her face. Her trouble is the very caress of the mysterious Child, whose gaze is always far from her, and who had already that sweet look of devotion which men have never been able altogether to love, and which still makes the born saint an object almost of suspicion to his earthly brethren.'"

from 'schools of painitng', mary innes.
fecking brilliant.

2006-08-12T13:54:00.000+08:00

was at the library sale this morning, and i am proud of my 1337 bargain bin searching skillXORZ. ended up with six books-- a shakespeare, a book of clip art, a sourcebook of advertisements [a la ladies! this vacuum cleaner will make your life perfect!], a book on kandinsky, art nouveau and chinese art. actually the shakespeare is nigel's i just filched it off him [i spotted it anyway. :)

i think that if i get to design my own house next time i will do it in the nouveaux style. nothing could be more elegant.

2006-08-10T19:29:00.000+08:00

this is what i did to the rest of shel's shirt and my somethingood tee! its not done and the seam on top is terrible, plus ive got to buy buttons for my ambitious adjustable strap. but otherwise, like some cool rock band thing. yay

2006-08-01T22:01:00.000+08:00

this is what i bought today! not all the earrings but the stand. if the lady's estimates are right i ave about 90 pairs. yay. make your own stuff, start a collection.

i am so bored with my own blog i think i want to shut it down.

2006-07-30T10:57:00.000+08:00

and you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone, for the times they are a- changin'

i spent yesterday at the airport sending my kindred off to the usa, from where she will not emerge till 2008 [she has a weird visa] and i think i am missing her already. i can't believe im not going to be on the same continent as her for YEARS ARGH NOOOO!!!!
i am such a sucker you know, i want allll my fwiends along with me, and yesterday i was being UBER CLINGY like messaging everyone and going AAAA I WANT TO STICK TO YOU IM GONNA MISS YOU SO BAD and you know what, even in the deromanticising light of day i know i will. have terrible misery that is. i know there are lots of lovely people coming along as well, but the place each person has in my life is very particular, and cannot be substituted. gah. mich and i are upset that sg doesnt have 4 seasons and good arts unis and hawt boys so we can all stay in the country and be happy tog hahahah oh dear all this late night ranting and raving. and yes im not v awake so i shall shut up now

btw add me on skype- monsterpiece

2006-07-28T23:15:00.000+08:00

hellooooo howdy yowza you know what i believe i am startig to live the high life! or at least, more life than i was doing so... er in the previous time frame. TOODAYYY i went to the TIGER BEER brewery with chern and her sis and her sis's bf and her sis' bf's bro and all their friends, which was really interesting, but not in the grandmother story kinda way. there's something inherently fascinating about factories-- its one of those modern fetishes i guess that may or may not fade with time, i guess depending on the rate fo acceptance of robots and their social roles. on the other hand though the sheer scale of automations and the awesome steel constructions, while not architectural wonders, never fails to strike a note of. i don't know what exactly, but it floors me. kinda, anyway

whilst the tour was interesting it wasnt as substantial as the post tour drinking session-- basically you get an hour? two hours? of free flow whatever locally brewed poison you like,[which includes coke] along with token tasteless munchies. we ended up playing table soccer which was surreal-- like some drunken man's fantasy-- because the "people" weren't people but rather corona bottles and lime slices. so after a while it becomes a bit weirdly beery-- like you start seeing the bottles and lime as people, or people as bottles and limes... whichever. either way it was highly amusing, chern and i were screaming a lot and being wholly inept in the psychomotor department. we didnt drink much, though, so i can assure you that this is a true muse and not the product of inebriated raving.

on another note i believe i am becoming addicted to swimming, and it is all albert's fault. basically the suisen people who live in the east are determined to make regular swimming a good healthy habit till we leave- which translates into joining albert at the pool whenever we can. and believe me evening swimming is great. you're probably incredulous at that statement coming from me-- so OKAY FINE GO ON LIVING YOUR DEPRIVED LITTLE LIVES hahaha.

okay yes maybe i did drink a beeeeet too much there...

2006-07-26T18:59:00.000+08:00

after getting hopelessly lost metting shel this morning i went to run a series of errands which killed my ezlink card, but also set me thinking about a coupla things. im really happy with my punjabi suit tops too-- had no idea you could get so much out of two sarees- i still ahve some cloth left over, ut i decided i shouldnt tailor anymore stuff or all my clothes would look uncannily similar heh.

walking thorugh the outram park underpass to the nel, you always see the clay murals on the walls which show fragments of people and things. i'd dismissed it before as useless and pretentious postmodernism, but now i am struck by its resonance. the murals, in fact, capture the essence of commuting perfectly-- we are all heading towards a certain destination, and our passage through the station is merely a form of transit. nobody is there for the station itself, and thus we make our fleeting passage through its halls towards wherever we may be headed.

an observer on the wings- himself a commuter, would only notice little eye-catching features of his fellow passengers-in-transit, and perhaps toy with the image: whether a motif on a shirt, a bunch of balloons, a poignant nose or the shape of a bum-- for a moment of breif consciousness before tossing it back into the ocean of subconsciousness. thus, these fleeting and incomplete impressions emerging in almost- tangibility out of the clay. some clearer than others, some odder than others. all pedestrian, yet invested with a sense of fantastical absurdity and dreamlike elusiveness.

its a very well distilled caricature of subway life, and perhaps ironic in its status-- in the very tunnel as an observer, equally overlooked and dismissed by people in the way it itself describes. very intelligent, intentional or not. it took me long enough to get it too.

2006-07-25T11:48:00.000+08:00

let me say it- i love my mac. its so idiot proof and intuitive and ! sleek! especially that when you install programs its simply drag-and-drop, with no funny little sub applications spilling out untidily into your hard drive like unclean-upable innards of some clumsy animal carcass. okay that was probably a nasty analogy, but yeah. clean things are good for messy people like me. there's even vid conferencing which is just simply totally -fwoar- even if it took ages and lots of fiddling for it to be set up haha. thankfully nigel is imensely patient, otherwise i'd never be able to set anything up. aaron is alos happily going to get a stack of programs like mac sabre from ben koh, so hooray! i know im still a noob at this but wth, its damn cool.

coupla days back i watched cabaret, which was brilliant, if i may say so. the middle of the musical was a bit of a lull but the rest really blew me away. emma yong and fei xiang are a lethal combination. the male lead was kinda sallow inc omparison to them-- and thankfully he wasnt also the focal point fo the show. grins. the songs are all stuck in my head now! thong and i were very upset that they didnt cut a cd. hopefully they will do so after the run. i liked that spirit of desperate escapism-- of delving into more and more hysterical debauchery in order to prolong having to acknowledge reality, or even a whiff of reality. the tragedy fo the end isnt dramatically demonstrated, but rather hinted at through a reflection in the cabaret, which i guess keeps it coherent. and there was the supreme moment of delicious irony, as ian noted, at the end of act one where you have to applaud a nazi song, and have no choice but to because its the end of act one. hurhur. on the other hand, i will never look at circular cushions and bolsters the same way again. it was, without a doubt, worth every cent. :))

i actually dont have anything substantial to say, whichc explains the inane-ness of this post. heh. actaully just wanted to have an excuse to play with my mac. oo hoo i am in lurrrve. i can even name whatever thingums i put in, like the thumb drive. so my thumb drive is called chip until i can think of a more appropriate name haha

2006-07-20T19:55:00.000+08:00

LOOKIE WHAT HAPPENED TO SHELDON'S SHIRT
OOOO SEXY I THINK I AM TEH PRONESS

2006-07-20T00:03:00.000+08:00

i woke up in the morning with a sudden impulse to sew, and shel! i am turning your shirt into a skirt. fell asleep soon after again and woke at 3 to meet vaish to collect my gagara, WHICH IS PRINCESSLY and syafiqah, it is purple. and VAISH HOMG is one of my bestest girl freinds and i really dont know how i am going to live without her on the same continent as me.

the torpor i'm in is the result of obs, from which i ahve just returned. moe happily sent us for an incredibly intense programme over 4 daysm, which resulted in a very sleep deprived and hyperactive me jumping around and being cheesy half the time. that being said, sui sen rocks. the overall experience this time was a lot more mature, and a lot more philosophical than the last time i went. i suppose that's where their use of metaphor in training appeals to me-- we all do our personal reflections which allow us, when sharing , to see a variety of perspectives and learning points. on another level it allows for a lot of personal interpretation and self- examination. i dont know if it was the same for everyone, but it certainly was so for me. the watch was really great-- i dont think i've ever met another group of poeple ive gotten along s well with, even despite being sick and grouchy and generally in a non cushy environment. despite the drowsiness i am feelign the withdrawal symptoms: i dont want to spam you with a huge detailled account of ewhat happened, so i'll save that for my incoherent scribbling in a real notebook. the key thing was that i felt alive for once, living in the present, a la graham swift's waterland; as opposed to living in the past or living for the future, as i ahve been doing these last few painfully stagnant months.

there's always this tendency for me to want to record every single event in the greatest possible detail-- on the one hand, to remember, and on the other, to forget. to remember, so that i will always have an archive to revisit when i am feeling nostalgic or such, and being a creature obsessed with memory, that occurs very often. thing is though, that after a bit of flipping [especially with forays into my lower sec life when i still wrote singlish.. eww] i usually start to skim, and at some points feel the hairs of my back prickling in gasp! consternation! and disgust! at what i used to be like. in part i hate myself for this, imagining another me further downt he road laughing and dismissing my present self and my current meditations. at the same time though i still feel the urge, as intensely as before to record the present in minutae, to preserve my self, as well as my interactions, from complete [wilful or not] erasure by the passage of the years, and the haughty and essentially hypocritical dismissal from the perspective of percieved maturity. on the other handm, though, the insurance of the record means that i can safely leave the experience behind without technically losing it-- in the sense that i can revisit it by reading, and thus leave it out of my consciousness for the moment. thus is forgetting and moving on, because essentially the experience is relegated into archive, and labelled as past, only to be revisited in a different frame of mind [often reductionist or patronising as nostalgia goes] which never again can register the same emotion quite so exactly or intensely, and ergo never does justice to the memory. its a rather smelly dilemma, and so here i go again recording, recording, recording. i am preoccupied with memory. [any surprise im a historian?]

2006-06-28T00:43:00.000+08:00

bootleg turquoise, butterfly crystals and other such pretty beads and findings are the yield of the day-- after counting money for the BMDP though i feel depressed at being broke after spending my 50 bucks. blah! [int he face of 25k] ive also never seen so many coins in my life, or attempted to carry them either. clearly i am going to ahve well defined biceps by tmr--- either that or horrible muscleache! hurhur.

the main problem is, as usual, that i cant think of anything to make with my new beads and such right now.. erk! flea market coming up and i want to ahve some stuff to sell! sweatshop! sweatshop!!!

walked down to the optician's to collect my specs but they were closed. i made a spare pair to bring to the uk in case mine break [calculate the probability.] and theyre YELLOW!!!! yellow is cool. you will be seeing me in them around... pretty soon. now i can do the rich kid with too much money thing and wear my specs to match my clothes! even though i only have two pairs-- hur. fortunately most of my clothes are in warm colours, so that's ok.

if you havent already realised, i am talking rubbish. and if you are intuitive enough-- yes youre right i had a teh ping :)) yippee caffeine! i think chern had free entertainment at the bead shop cos i was doing the junkie ting and cooing over all the pretty beads and findings, which, as usual, i overspent on. ive got like, five boxes of beads, not counting ym box of miscellaney, and the other of tools and findings. good luck to bringing them to the uk. go me!

youre still hung up, arent you.

2006-06-26T13:40:00.000+08:00

warwick DHL-ed me my acceptance letter, as well as a few booklets on safety and what to do and such. they also sent my reading list, which is a total of like, 5 or 6 books long, which is great [considering that kelly was complaining about her two- page long one] and not so great [considering that 5 out of the 6 books are by eric hobsbawm.]

its not too bad i guess cos i pirated two of them already from the library, and mr kwok probably pirated most of the others for us. hobsbawm bores me to death, though. i havent got chunlong's patience to look up all the references. ah well. give me eh gombrich any time. in true spirit of procrastination, i will finish my keith jenkins first. hrmpf. i think i know enough about modern world history from a's to smoke my way through satisfactorily....... i think.

2006-06-22T22:09:00.000+08:00

back home, back to reality: i realise that i totally forgot to think of those "words of appreciation" for the scholarship thing. i can't think of anything that's not cheesy and doesnt start with "i warnna thank my marmee, my daddee, my korkor jiejie didi meimei and dog.." because like everybody is gonna say thie same thing, and also because i can just see mr purvis sitting there counting the cliches.

on the other hand though i just got back from a wonderful trip to kl with my family and mich-- it was really good to get away from everything for a while, and simply shut down and be brainless and SHOP! and EAT! and SLEEEP! and mich has shown me the beauty of football.... the beauty of the players that is hur hur hur. ive been so tired of everything back home, it was really good to just GO! on crazy brainless holiday mode with a great friend and family and lots of ringgit. hahaha. im still kinda high after it, though am starting to feel the former dourness setting in again-- esp when i saw my inbox FLOODED with emails. agh

but anyways it was a GOOD HAPPY TRIP. there were lots of interesting little things arnd, like laughing at people on lousypok buses [we had a SUPER LUXURIOUS bus complete with personal TVs] and useless switches in the hotel room [there were like bazillions, and they switched nothing on or off] and typoes like "its a headache" and delayed reaction about the free shuttle buses and commenting on the conditionally cute italian guy at the restaurant hahahaha. the shopping was fantastic: it wasnt like super cheap but being on holiday mode really smoothed everything over-- we both managed to find hell a lot of nice stuff and felt reaaaallly retail therapyfied. the entire trip consisted of shopping and pigging out and sleeping- need i say more?

ahh im so happy even if brain atrophied due to long bus ride with movies. unpacking the spoils now. ah happy happy

2006-06-19T23:38:00.000+08:00

hello all. im in msia from tmr to thu, so dont try contacting me then. i will ahve my phone with me, so you can msg and such but i prob wont reply till i get back. :) when i get back, i think i will be seven pairs of shoes richer.

thinking about leaving: i am goign to apply to redfern now. the thought just occured to me that there are people i know im going to drift from, but whom i care particularly about now. in the i- really- like- you- though- we're- not- so- close- now- i- can- see- that- given- time- we'd- be great- friends kinda way. its sad, but its a realistic perspective. i guess it gives me a sense of urgency- that i must hug these people extra hard before i go, because it will probably slip, and because they mean a lot, im starting to realise the pain already. i dont mean this in a sentimental way; rather it is the pain of this fatalism ive resigned myself to, or am trying to. before its time i can see the gradual unlamented fade, and from a period of different relations i feel its loss, not acutely, but in a quiet but persistent way.

but probably i am overdramatizing my life, as usual :)

2006-06-14T18:50:00.000+08:00

Name 20 people you can think of right now. Don't read the questions until you have named the 20 people. At the end of it all, STAB 5 people to do this. Ready? Start!
1. x [a known unknown for me and an unknown unknown for you. too bad you.]
2. weiling [whose blog i got this from :)]
3. chern
4. michael
5. augustine
6. ben c
7. charis
8. my brother
9. chunlong
10. shel
11. mich
12. kindred!
13. mandy
14. er. louis armstrong
15. the guy michael was talking about
16. shermin
17. claud
18. the scholarship guy
19. why so many! jiass
20. matt

How did you meet #14?
on cd.

What would you do if you never met #1?
same as i do now, i dont meet x much

What would you do if #20 and #9 dated?
LOLOLOLOL i think i'd die of laughter

Would #6 and #17 make a good couple?
okay i am going to keel over and die right now. NOOOOOO

Describe #3.
is pretty :) and a perfectionist with a talent for song. she's one of the people i dont believe i didnt know since forever, cause she's great. we're also gg to warwick tog look out uk!

Tell me something about #7.
is my student from 3c, and i rmbed her name first cause she was sitting in front and talked to me a lot :) im horrid at names hurhur.

Do you know any of #12's family?
kinda... been to her house. she wants to introduce me to her grandma in a skirt, because she says her grandma brings india to sg hurhur

What's #8's favourites?
nonsense crap, his bow, his dog, his camera and the computer.

What would you do if #18 confesses that he/she likes you?
ask him for a bigger monthly allowance.

What language does #15 speak?
haha hell. armyglish.

Who is #9 going out with?
a display of amazing grace

How old is #16 now?
15(?) has her bday past yet?

When was the last time you spoke to #13?
YTD when she asked me to volunteer for somethingood with her hahahahaha forgetting i was on the comm.. and thus conscripted haha

Who is #2's favourite singer/band?
makes a face. no ideaaaaa

Would you ever date #4
i think he would puke blood

Would you ever date #7?
OHHHH SEXYYYYYY hahahahaha shit this thing is damn funny

Is #15 single
dunno

What is #10's last name?
liew

Would you ever be in a serious relationship with #11?
hell yes, if i were a guy thats is- i'd grab her and never let go

What school does #3 go to?
we're going to warwick, but atm nowhere.

Where does #6 live?
errrrrr sg.

What's your favourite thing about #5?
hahahaha oh dear.

Have you seen #1 naked?
NOOOOOOOOO

Stabbing:
bored people

2006-06-12T20:28:00.000+08:00

its very tempting to see it as a possibly Significant Event, in that overdramatized view that i always take of my life, and which warps it sometimes for the better; sometimes for the worse. i'm not afraid of thinking about it, but i'm afraid the fallout will cloud my mind for the longest time. i suppose it stems from something simple not easily articulated-- plainly that i miss even that presence, but dont want to admit it even to myself.

on another note, i am very annoyed. its not my hairdresser's fault but my hair is now more WAVY than CURLY!!!!!!!! my hair's v fine so she couldnt give me a strong perm, nonetheless i feel kinda cheated that my hair's lousy enough to unravel itself after such a short time. ah why am i being so vain all of a sudden [maybe im distracting myself from my real issues, whatever they are........ ISSUES? WHAT ISSUES?]

2006-06-09T22:44:00.000+08:00

random musing: napoleon was pretty remarkable, but only in retrospect. history is always kinder with the passage of time, because the impact of suffering is diminished or eclipsed by present conditions, and occurences in the immediate past. nobody says that hitler made a tactical error in opening the eastern front and that otherwise the future would have been german; without fearing some kind of censure. in Austria there is a law against holocaust deniers. on the other hand though we speak of napoleon as a great leader, though in reality he was pretty much a proto- tyrant who similarly overran europe, forced tough conditions onto the annexed territories and in general plundered and pillaged. [where do you think the louvre got its stuff from?] i'm not a nazi apologist, as much as someone wanting to impose perspective.

okay i just lost my train of thought it just went down the cliff of incoherenceeeeeeeeeeeeee

2006-06-05T22:13:00.000+08:00

into my third week fo being called mel more frequently than miss tan; am feeling rather optimistic though less simply happy. eating milk chocolate buttons from mraks and sparks- we watched love story today, and it was brilliant. went back to school to pick up my cert and yearbook; the batch directory is SO UGLY. well im not really complaining haha. i decidedly like my new skirt; its suitably mediterrean, and makes me happy. have i mentioned that i've worn my full wadrobe like ten times already this year? thus any new clothes are good.

BACK TO WHITE CHOCOLATE BUTTONS BYE BYE

2006-06-03T09:13:00.000+08:00

i finally realised what was wrong with my reply on ucas: apparently if you have an unconditional offer you can't have an insurance choice. so clearly the weird resteeing thing wasnt the webbie being faulty, but because i didnt read the instructions properly. haha

that said, it's confirmed. i'm going to warwick this september. chern'll be thee too, and we're very excited. the idea that im going voerseas hasnt properly hit home for me yet, but chern's been doing all this research and telling me about the wonderful things we can do at warwick-- which is great really [im still kindof sore about not going to edinburgh] hopefully i can smoke my way into a mixed thesis-- such are the constraints--- but who's complaining! i can go!

on another note, my room smells of lily. am pleased. lilies are my fave flowers

2006-05-30T15:18:00.000+08:00

I AM GOING OVERSEAS. HOMG. i am going to be a teacher. haha. the one who serves the tea. even despite my horrendous interview!!!!!

confusion over where i am going, though cos the subs they offered dont tally with my applications in the uk. nonetheless I AM GOING TO THE UKKKKKKK and they are going to throw money at me.. i hope i can squeeze art hist out of them though. but YAY YAY i am like going to explode anytime soon

2006-05-25T17:01:00.000+08:00

Memory demands so much
it wants every fiber
told and retold.
It gives and gives
but for a price, making you
risk drudgery, lapse
into document, treacheries
of glaring noon and a slow march.
Leaf never before
seen or envisioned, flying spider
of rose- red autumn, playing
a lone current of undecided wind,
lift me with you, take me
off this ground of memory that clings
to my feet like thick clay,
exacting gratitude for gifts and gifts.
Take me flying before
I have time to rememebr you,
intent instead on being
in the midst fo that flight,
of those unforseeable words.

Denise Levertov.

im not trying to write an expository essay, but rather grapple with this concept that has shadowed in a sense much of my bring- because, as in the film 2046 we are all trapped in the past in a way. the past, because it has happened, is a concrete reference point from which we derive our values- which we in turn impose upon the present to determine its significance. in so doing, however, we are trapped: we are endlessly trawling the future for traces of the past; understanding the particularities of the former in the generalities gleaned from the latter. can any moment be seized in purity, free from this judgmental prerspective? all too often we impose the standards of past experience onto novel situations, whether of personal or practical significance, and end up having made grave miscalculations. For these events must be seen on their own terms, the way last contury's perspectives cannot be used to evaluate a modern context. i also wish i had a larger vocabulary.

i am obsessed with the past, sometimes to the point that i transpose it onto the present, and then lament again this waste of time when the present has changed to past. i cannot pinpoint exactly why it is such a compelling thing to dwell upon-perhaps it is because this is the only realm in which we have a degree of power: the events themselves cannot be changed, but i can turn them over in my head on order to elucidate some truth, whether an approximation or not, about my particular human state. it is rather a helpless kind fo rationalization [or attempt at rationalization] because it essentially changes nothing. i suppose its power lies in how the objectification [as in making objective, not seeing as an object] and perspective can make even bad experiences seem more palatable- such that in retrospect the present as it were should not seem to have had such pervasive and inordinate arbitrary power over the progress in our lives and the shifts in our emotions. in short, it makes a feeble attempt at resdering the present past understandable- an unsatisfactory [at all points, if you ahve enough of a sense of perspective/ sense of absurdity, whichever you may]rebellion by the human ego against the external forces which too often prevail in our frail human struggle.

as yet incomplete

on another note: if i ever get a rich husband i am buying dresses from victoria's secret. damn it. i belatedly want to be a teen [not many years of that left] queen fashionista! wish i had more money, then i could have a library and a walk- in wadrobe, and most of all study overseas. sigh. pipe dreams.

2006-05-21T12:27:00.000+08:00

before anything: 3i girls, class party on 1 june ok? 3z girls on 5 june. do tell me if they are good dates, and an approx no of people who can make it. options- beach party? or you could just come over to my place and chill [youre welcome to raid my library as well. though it means i would have to major clear my room :S]

lit girls: please send an email to anthologize-subscribe@yahoogroups.com there are like, only 4 peopel apart from myself at the moment which is miserable haha.

friday was cedar's cross country, and i amazed myself firstly by deciding on the spur of the moment to run, and secondly by actually being able to complete the 3.2km. i was happily running with pamela, though we were kindof slacking for quite a significant portion of the course. runnign has never been my element anyway haha so im kind of pleased with myself-- even if the army boys [as of ysterday] were pooh poohing the acheivement [what's it compared to 32km route march? huh? huh? wimpy pansy]

dress code for the day was to wear an old college/ sec school teeshirt, and because of the absurdity of wearing RJ uni to the RJ stop and then going off with su san and ping aik to macritchie [in front of the rj people] i wore my rg house tee and culottes. everybody thought i looked like a little schoolgirl, which is good in the sense that i must carry with me a sense of eternal youth! heh even if it incited joshua to mush my head at greater frequency than usual.

because of the proximity to rj i was going to go crash hist s after x-ctry; especially since i msged jean and found out it was HER yummy paper they'd be discussing. the young [i dont mean to say everyone els eisnt young, there just isnt any other way of classifying us] teachers wanted to go bowling, though, and convinced me to go along despite my protestations for the value of intellectual exercise. anyway, we trooped down to marina's bowling alleys [1.50 a game apparently] only to find that both of them were booked for tournaments. which is pathetic. we ended up playing pool at the rotten tables [i was playing horribly. blechh shel where are you] and then playing daytona for a darned logn time. which was immensely entertaining, esp since ping aik and joshua kept ramming into everyone, and that i got an UGLY green car, and the fact that hist s would have been an immense improvement on the afternoon's activities. nonetheless, it was amusing enough. i think its the most number of games ive ever played at an arcade, apart from the tank wars one at the club. [but that one is actually FUN]

on saturday chern and i went to nadexdha [the russian restaurant at arab street: this is the name of lenin's wife] for lunch and a good long talk- am feeling rather less unsettled now- grins. the food was wonderful though: esp the BORSCH chern and i were mmmmm-ing like crazy. hints of chinese influence though in some of the dishes, esp the pickled cabbage entree-- we concluded that its because russia is on the border with china-- so its intuitive that they share some traits [like spring onions in the borsch... seemed a bit fishy at first but went really well. we want to bring more business there! because the place was rather empty when we went, despite the great food and the authentic russian-ness: we were giggling at the long vodka list and the huge array of liquor on the shelf, as well as the typical dour russian attitude of the waitress. the cute russian guy was a nice bonus too!

went home after because my legs were aching [legacy of the 3.2] instead of tagging along on the ipho route as i intended to do with chern; and basically conked out for the next two hours no thanks to the rank humidity. woke up on time to go out agian though-- menotti's this time for vaish's birthday dinner. how great is that! i mean, an indulgent lunch and an opulent dinner, with the best company you could ask for :)) life certainly cant get better than that.. i think.

i had the set dinner at menotti's which cleaned out my wallet but was completely worth the money. random thought: italian names sound like italian food. my entree was this beef carapaciosomethingorother and i kept thinking of CARAVAGGIO who john berger loves but im still quite hesitant about. im just not comfortable with the sexual energy that invests all his paintings. but ANYWAYY dinner was brill: apart from the mindblowing food the conversation was also first class- and then after ten da-baoed lots of lovely pastry at half price heh. after that we proceeded to chijmes to sit around and yak. chijmes has a great ambience for sittign around and ctaching up-- after a while i didnt want to move at all. dan sent me home afterwards as he used to when we were out late nights in jc; we had a nice talk as well. its been long-- i really miss these people. five months out of jc, and everything seems so far away already: i concede i wasnt the most social of creatures in my second year; but then with all the guys in the army, and all the girls all drifting off in their own directions it sees that we're all lost, in some grand new construct that you may like to call a foretaste of adulthood; though im not too sure about labelling it as such. what i mean is, to gather and talk like we used to is a really refreshing break: perhaps its a reorientation of dispersed youth-- aye im not sure how it can be expressed either.

anyway yes i do realise this entry has been a drag- after being out of a job for a grand total of two days, i am already starting to behave like a hog. you could say that this isnt really my fault, given my horrid interview yesterday [i dont want to talk about it; suffice to say im prob gonna have to study here. cf: egdon was her hades] ive been reduced to a lazy moping existence- spent the rest of yesterday sulking and today sleeping. i really miss teaching, not because it was a good way to occupy mt time and thoughts; but because i really enjoyed talking about things i love to the most fab girls around :)) and also having crazy fun with the other teachers. am feeling witdrawal symptoms now- admittedly, i'm feeling sort of lonely. im being emo right now because of the sharp differnece between the brightness of a school and the bleakness of my prospects [zomg, im stuck in sg.] but before i get angsty and bore everybody i shall be off. to post some poems. so everyone join my yahoogroup haha.

2006-05-18T21:15:00.000+08:00

this is an honest post. i want to cry at leaving; i want to break down over the ephemerality of things, over the insignificance of six months in a school and a file full of paper and writing. i want to feel enough; feel something beyond this selfconscious disorientation and this jaded sense of loss. perhaps wanting something to jolt me out of this limbo into the intensity of feeling again, or perhaps i am too tired for all this at the moment. maybe i need sleep, and then i can write. my words are too feeble to do justice to the time i had at cedar. not at the moment, if ever.

ignore me im just in an incoherently depressed spell haha.

2006-05-13T23:54:00.000+08:00

i am PRETTAY i just permed my hair and am incredibly pleased with the result YAY HAPPY i think i can charm the paint off walls. vaish says i can charm the anything off anything so YAY HOORAY for impulse and the fact that i do not look like a poodle haha

2006-05-10T11:17:00.000+08:00

it would be better if i had more time. time is such an awful barrier on many matters. time and circumstance. the future honestly looks so damn bleak from where im at now: with no leads for goign overseas im pretty much feeling lost here. the two local Us present very different incentives: right now i have to make up my mind where im going before 5pm. smu's given me their top scholarship, which guarantees three overseas trips and attachments to the arts scene and such; on the other hand nus [mr nano notwithstanding] has offered me usp. practically speaking, it is intuitive that i accept the former without even thinking: business is way more marketable than history and lit; and it also opens up a lot more gateways for contacts in the relevant areas. [and also crucial exposure, since i want to work in the arts scene] on the other hand though, the interviews dont give me a very favourable impression of the students, though they may have been projecting a certain image in line with the context-- that is, the interview. the way my mom paints nus does argue towards me accepting smu- but this is such a marginal decision: i ahvent got enough information about anything to be able to make an informed choice- the way i should have applied to the us last sept and regret it like hell now.

maybe i will just accept it, and see what comes my way. hopefully the moe [which is my last beacon of hope for going overseas] will bail me out of this.

2006-05-07T18:23:00.000+08:00

half way marking unseen poem papers. got sick of marking so am currently singing at the top of my voice along to joan baez who is fantastic. YAYYYY if your windows are bursting its probably the hyper frequency sound waves from my terrible singing-- bonus points to terribility if its microsoft windows that is dying. yay for multitasking and resultant bad engrish

2006-05-07T00:50:00.000+08:00

an unwanted piece of liver shouldnt have cost so much, though nonetheless the election results should send just the right message to the pap. am rather pleased, though cannot say much else in case i get charged for sedition hahaha

am happy because chiam see tong won by a good margin. hes my fave opposition candidate, and also because the potong pasir people know better than to cave in to the pap's insulting tactic of throwing money at them. there really is nothing much to speak of in singaporean politics: most of it is played by pap's everychanging rules and a combination of monetary persuasion and scaremongering coercion. the whole gomez issue was such a ridiculous distraction, i wonder if people were intelligent enough to see through that.

on the other hand though am disappointed with aljunied: i mean you have to concede that george yeo is indispensible [disclaimer: i have something against the mfa] and an extremely strong candidate, but the idea that we are too timid to vote an opposition group into power is rather ... disappointing? what other word is there. the margin they got there should intimidate the pap; nonetheless giving power to another party to voice in parliament other viewpoints is a different matter altogether. you can argue citing the impossibility theorem [correct me if i got that wrong] because in a election your vote counts for little, but really.

anyway i shall stop here in case i get arrested for actually having a political stand [gasp!!!!!!] do tag. wave your flag for chiam and low. they rock. i dont mind if i have to fall down and scrape my knee on nasty potong pasir sidewalks twenty times over as long as chiam's in power.

2006-05-03T23:06:00.000+08:00

weiling: did you read the book your template was inspired by? -- ian McEwan's Enduring Love? hes pretty good though i ahvent read that title- Atonement was enough to blow me away. wish i had more time to show yall more things.

i fell and scraped my knee terribly today whilst coming to school, and now have a horrid ugly red blotch on my left knee. i was trying not to look at it as i walked in because it wasnt bleeding at first, [because suspended disbelief conquers a horrendous aversion to blood] though when i got to the staff room and vicky and suann screamed at me i immediately went into shock and your period of obligatory pale faint feminine weakness. hahaha. luckily ping aik was there to GALLANTLY RESCUE ME! so i spent assembly with her in the sick bay, feeling painfully selfconscious because 1. as a teacher i want to appear as an INFALLIBLE SOURCE OR STADINESS AND AUTHORITY and as such fainting spells are a disgrace, and 2. because the whole incident was so absurd!!! i havent skinned a knee since primary school, and even then i never skinned anything this badly before. the funniest part was when everyone came in to ask how i was-- i felt so silly because its only a minor [if bloody] wound; and because i simply felt so silly taking everyone's concern over such a trivial matter hahaha. im terrible, really. its my fault for being so shy of blood. in both senses of the word.

lessons were allright. i love odd wednesdays because i can happily teach unseen. today's was an exercise in self indulgence, though: i KNOW im supposed to teach devices and analysis BUT i can't pass up beautiful writing!!! and of course its sudden salience in relation to AHEM recent events in my life. so i did jeanette winterson because *gasp* i couldnt help myself! i wish i were my purvis though: i can just imagine him going "the heath is not green but brown" and " we're talking GENIUS here" and so on. i wish i were a student again; i could spend forever in his class. in 1a, i guess, and with all the other teachers [hell i miss history. and all the teachers' idiosyncracies] and the whole humans environment: not because my current situation is any worse; or that i liked every bit of it; or that im attempting to be elitist-- simply because i couldnt imagine otherwise.

somehow though i am afraid i dont measure up to the ideal impact-- i was really happily talking away, and also concentrating on my aching knee [i hate aches. give me searing pain already. 'a BLAZE of love and then extinction, rather than a lantern glimmer of the same'] and i wasnt really sure if everyone kinda understood what i was saying haha. perhaps i could have done better by doing a technical lesson-- oh lets all dissect prose now: but language is not a cadaver. OKAY going off topic here.

after lessons i decided to air my wound because th gauze was soaked, so poor pingaik had to come and help me clean and redress the wound again. i take my hat off to her, because if i were to face someone with a wound like that, **i** would FAINT and prob need the patient to help me up instead hahaha. after that i was basically rather handicapped-- walkiing everywhere with my skirt pulled up one side. which was kindof gross cos it looked like i was flashing everybody [oh yes but theres no doubting it i have sexy legs. wink] and cos it was getting all bloody and blood was like dripping down my leg. its not painful as much as annoying in its nausea inducing tendencies. hahahaha oh dear i sound so masochistic. like cut.

after school though we [being me, pingaik qinning augustine joshua sean sharon and susan oh dear i feel so little girl in my obsession for recording] went down to settlers at clarke quay for a whole evening of playing stupid games and getting completely high and basically screaming the whole place down with laughter. for safety's sake nothing will be disclosed here. WARNING: dont you MEASLY LEETLE GURLS be gettin ta wrong idea. ve are FEEGURES of AUTHORITY and completely SERIOUS role model figures in EVERYTHEENG ve DU. i am disappointed though. NOBODY WANTED TO PLAY ZOMBIES! ive been dying to play zombies. please somebodyanybodyzits get a team and play ZOMBIES WITH MEEEEE zomg i love zombies. as you can tell im still high.

an update on my state: and the obligatory public self flaglellation/ popular martyrdom: my wound is being annoyingly throbbingly painful. the only shirt skirts i ahve in my cupboard are too short for school!!! GGXX expect more skirts mysteriously pinned up on the left hem... i dont know how im gonna present myself at smu on fri afternoon-- though if they allowed me in on the count of bob, they may be more forgiving of my inexcusable clumsiness. grins.

2006-05-02T23:35:00.000+08:00

what i need is a healthy dose of MUTUAL SKEPTICISM please please PLEASE i canNOT work or talk to let alone study with people who speak entirely in CLICHES. and who have no respect for culture.
honestly, who really wants to share their passion with little kids and old ladies to "give back to society"? no way man.. HELLO the world is complex, we have no space for clean little generalisations.

the danger of cliches is that we hide in gross oversimplifications and neglect the fundamental complexity of human life. cohering to a certain set of "ideals", or marketing yourself as a certain "type" of person [especially the feel good inspirational types] ultimately cheapens your particular individuality. SO WHAT if theyre going to pour money on you? something in me basically bebels to the instinct for conformity: i am not a loud person, but when it comes to originality i have an almost obsessive need to define myself as a separate, ideantifiable entity.

this is a very big long rant, because i DESPISE stereotypes, especially cultural ones. this is not meant to be offensive, but because i am an irredeemable pedant, THE LOUVRE WAS BUILT BY MARIE DE MEDICI [or catherine, either one] no doubt queen of France, but Italian in blood and breed. the mona lisa was also italian. AND the CULTURAL CENTRE OF ITALY IS FLORENCE NOT VENICE WTBH i could die its TRAVERSTY TRAVERSTY hellooooo thats where the bleeding RENAISSANCE started. what happened to the french revolution? why not ingres [personal bias. but ingres was authentically French] FYI milan is only "fashion capital" in italy because of the french influence during the Napoleonic occupation. japanese culture does not consist of disneyfied samurais and gothic lolita girls. [what kind of term is that anyway. it gives a bad name to gothic architecture and to nabokov.] thailand is not about transverstites [fyi, they are the most tolerant of them because of a religious belief: apparently some deity was a hermaphrodite or smth... i cant rmb but YES there are cultural roots. how can you profess to understand anything without seeking out its origins?] WHERE IS THE AUTHENTICITY where is the respect for culture, for LIFE even, sans the glamour, sans the spin, sans the gloss of stereotypes.

[my group was in charge of thailand. wish i could have done Rearngsak Boonyavanishkul insert expletive here he paints insert expletive herex2 beautiful pieces i nearly died over the ones a. eve and u. ed had.. its TO DIE FOR]

the whole problem with today's society is that everything has been cheapened. its been reduced to the lowest common denominator just because its easy to digest, and because it pushes the most money. its utterly disgusting and disillusioning because we run the danger of losing our particular characteristics: the intricacies of culture and even personal identity are slowly being eroded. how many peoprl define themselves as being "roxy girls" or "prada women"? its nothing but a manufactured image. we should at all costs resist the impetus to slot ourselves away into neat little boxes; because in so doing we lose our essence.

thus the disillusionment of the modern paradigm: the relentless search for identity. 'something is always missing" but there is no way that we can locate it within the oversimplified ideas that we are fed [and thus are the most available] because what we need is an affirmation of particularity-- that we are not, after all, mere cogs in the big machine.

my only takeaway from today was the brocade from arab street. that said, i would a million times over rather be in school, talking to my dear girls. [and bob.]

2006-04-30T22:28:00.000+08:00

because i got hell bored whilst marking lit essays, i submitted to my rbother's request to do the ipod oracle. i dont have an ipod, and my com doesnt have speakers, so i used the reserve of songs on my bro's com. the answers are insanely ridiculous which just goes to show how computers and me dont get along. i dont understand them, and they dont understand me. Hello!

revelation of the day is the sheer scale of junk that my brother has in his com. you'll see-

how does the world see me? marikita [as in, the national anthem. i have no idea why its on his playlist]
will i have a happy life? sister fatima [?!?! don mclean but makes no sense whatsoever]
what do my friends really think of me? he is your brother [abba. makes no sense either]
do people secretly lust after me? Yellow. [coldplay. again makes no sense]
i will be remebered as happy new year in thai.
my signature dance tune is rhapsody in blue [okay at least it concedes i have taste there]
the song playing at my funeral is lotr- gandalf [no idea what that is either]
what kind of man do i like- please mr postman [the carpenters. no comments. my brother asked me if i was that despo. hurhur but then again when we asked if he'd get attached it said "out of the blue (MLTR)]
what was ytd like? "when youre in love with a beautiful woman".... oh dear does that make me a closet lesbian?

amused. anyway after that we started asking random questions. like. what should i do with my life! and the thing played some weirdy track called Ivan605 whcih is from AOE-- my brother doesnt know how he got onto the playlist but anyway according to ivan "building fort posts is the best way to defend the empire" OOOkayyyyy. my bro was no better anyway hahaha the com told him "this is how you should do a double click. Now, double clicking..."
then i asked that pet i would have, and it said "gun". the sound was just a gunshot. Now, thats kindof freeky, but then considering im going to spend my life building fort posts i may as well defend them, right? bob got upset at this because the computer wasnt playing rock.

and so since my interview is on tue i asked if i would get the smu scholarship and the com thinks 'against all odds'. as for an overseas one it described my fate as the 'boulevard of broken dreams' in the words of my brother, this is MACHAMP

anyway since i am feeling crappy yay everybodee vote for chiam see tong. then tell him to institute a direct bus from outside cedar to outside my house.

2006-04-30T10:31:00.000+08:00

BOB ON BLOG.
if you guys didnt know before my class with 2a on friday bob tried to commit suicide by jumping off the worksheets i was carrying. then bob realised that his life was as meaningless as his death, and so he resolved himself back to rocklike stoicism.

bob is happy that he is so popular. bob thinks that he would give a big smoochie frenchie air kiss to everybody if he had a mouth. unfortunately he is a rock, and can only do all this in theory.

-----

if you havent met bob- well bob is my pet rock. and hes gay. which is unfortunate, the way a lot of gay guys are, because bob is cute. grins.

jazz concert on friday after a movie- reached home extremely exhausted but insanely invigorated. chern and i wanted to throw underwear at the PIANIST!!! and the GUITARIST!!!!! and basically went crazy making stupid comments and gushing over sexy musicians. hahahaha which is a bit paedophilic if you think about it, because the players are all our juniors. hurhurhur. on the other hand though, any guy who plays an instrument and is completely absorbed in the expression is immediately SEXY. i rmb us drooling over the jazz guys from our batch similarly, and sending a message to shane saying that they were incredibly sexy. shane was suitably amused. i think. hahahaha.

2006-04-26T22:25:00.000+08:00

Must blog this for posterity. Was at Shahi Maharani in Raffles City today for lunch, as Vaish couldn't find anything to eat at Nooch. So Mel, Thong, Vaish and I were catching up on each other's post-JC lives when we noticed a bunch of Mediacorp artistes across the room, including Adrian Pang and Fiona Xie. (What are the odds that someone will find this page by Googling for those names?) Turns out there was a shoot going on at Shahi Maharani, and they were waiting for our table! We were so mortified, despite the manager's assurances that as customers, we had priority in the restaurant's eyes.

off ian's blog-- THIS IS MY BELATED POST about saturday look im a starrr hurhur i really should write an entry of my own. makes a face honestly im so tired. i havent even had time to start on my new john berger.

2006-04-26T14:58:00.000+08:00

Do somethingood!
cedarians-- this is ZE KOMPREHENSIF website if you guys are interested. if you've got any questions you can email me too. grins.

am blogging at my desk at school, and if youre wondering how i found the space for the laptop: well, i didn't. i just plonked it on top of a pile of unmarked papers. unmarked papers are depressing, because they are unmarked. my brain has been blown. Grin.

the relief/ trainee teachers put up a performance today, which was highly successful and also rather embarrassing-- considering that i had to be the female lead [i should have kept quiet and agreed to dance-- thoguh that'd just be a can of worms: i cant dance for nuts and bananas and ice cream with a cherry on top. even if i WOULD dance for nuts and bananas and ice cream with a cherry on top. speaking of which, i'm hungry. my chocolate coated coffee beans are my only consolation-- and mot much of a consolation, considering the restrictions i have to impose on myself no thanks to my ridiculous caffeine intolerance. GRIN YEE HOO BUBBLE etc caffeine high babble

okay maybe i -should- go home hurhur its raining! and shite, i write so much nonsense in this journal i dont know why anyone bothers to read it at all. GRINS

2006-04-24T21:28:00.000+08:00

i am bleeding irritated with my brother, who is being a jerk again. whats new huh

looking for prose passages is incredibly hard- am scanning all my books for possibilities. thing about it is, there are memorable scenes, but its SO IMPOSSIBLE to find them in a sea of words.

2006-04-23T21:13:00.000+08:00

the apple of my life, the star on my christmas tree!

this post should be about memory, delicate as john berger's description of death. its a joan baez kind of day-- 'we all know what memories can bring, they bring diamonds and rust.

2006-04-22T11:05:00.000+08:00

had another great day yesterday-- am only blogging today cause i was too tired yesterday [i got back at about 11] and was busy scribbling away in my diary [i have to write things out physically for them to register rightly

i shall not report on the morning- its a surprise for wednesday. im braching myself for the fallout hurhur. suffice to say the few of us were in hysterics at the dance studio preparing :))

ran all the way from school to buona vista to submit my documents to moe; on a whim i went for a walk around the ghim moh area [its just like me i know. im weird] which was good. i reconnoitered the area we used to walk back when we were in j one, went to see the old ts; a dead tree branch has fallen over the walkway leading from th main building to the back gate. the diseased guava trees that shed white fluff on your head are still there. the area has been given a facelift-- the rundown charm has been reduced in a way, but i guess it enver really was about setting, but rather memory. the man who busks at the underpass is still there, playing the guitar with his son. yesterday he talked to me, and i wonder that in the whole year in which i passed him i never once had the chance to do that. his son came up to me spontaneously and gave me a hug, he's a lovely child-- he asked me lots of little boy questions as his father played me a tune. we took a photo, and i gave him a hug back. but because i was late, i had to go. the man called after me to thank me. 'god bless,' he said. the little boy grinned and waved, shouting Bye! Bye! after me. it was hard to leave without choking something back- i dont know exactly what it is.

i know i am not telling you the whole thing- and im aware that its obvious that such an account fo a wandering may seem completely pointless. the thing about it is that memory is an utterly personal affair-- and even if i were to explain it, it would be hard to recapture the emotion in universally understandable terms. the act of voicing out would be in its exhibitionism a traversty; yet there is still an inexplicable need to tack the feeling down with certainty--what exactly it is about the place, those days, and you, that connect to the overwhelming intensity of that moment. and this is where i run out of words.

afterwards i went for cedar sports day which was fab. its quite sifferent from the rg one i think, though perhaps the difference can be explained by the difference in my position-- as teacher, i mean, as opposed to student. nonetheless i went to bum around with my classes, which was fun. i was sorely tempted to go home after going to buona vista, because im totally lost around toa payoh [i only know the way back to rj, and the way to the mutton soup stall haha] but i totally didnt regret going! :) its way more fun to watch the progress of the events with everybody instead of sitting at the teachers' grandstand- that way you get to make comments about the action and laugh as loudly as you want without the other staff thinking youre a weirdo. Grin. and of course, because my classes are SUCH good company, HOW could i ever resist your CHARRRRM? i ended the day adorned with lots of coloured ribbons, which is the problem of teaching too many classes, and that i dont have an instinctive colour loyalty because in rg i was in hadley [e purple house- 3z would be proud of me] and i would write more but for the fact that im LATE FOR LUNCH hurhur. have to scoot.

2006-04-20T23:23:00.000+08:00

i was going to meditate on the implications of wearing a sari to school as a chinese for no particular reason on a random day-- but then i had to give tuition and then have dinner and then i watched WALK THE LINE AND IT TOTALLY BLEW MY MIND

for soem reason, i have a thing about guys in side profile. the way the movie was shot ZOMG apart from the a-MAYzing music [always liked johnny cash, though not in a crazy fangirl way] the way the movie was shot allowed for ALL THESE DROP DEAD SEXY SIDE PROFILES of joaquim phoenix and FWOAR and the music was like FWOAR and FWOARHHHH [can you imagine me swooning already] and my mom and i were sitting there drooling away hahaha. modern day music doesnt quite match up does it-- colourful lights and sexy dance scenes and all- cant match the effectiveness of absorbed playing as showmanship. AGH BUT DROOL DROOL DROOL.

well its just like me anyway hurhur. the twenties and the fifties are my fave [modern] eras. if i could go back in tiem i'd like to have lived there.

here's a shoutout to everybody from cedar-- hulloooooo :)) do tag lots it makes me feel as if i'm all rich and famous and popular

2006-04-16T18:27:00.000+08:00

had a fantabulous dinner out with chern yesterday; and i think i succeeded in making muingyong rue the day he met me. hur. am very happy though, i havent felt like this in a while; a while being over a year. i dont really remember the last time i went crazy giggly on anyone.

its interesting how, after 18.5 years of english education, and a passionate love for the language, i've come back to rely simple words like 'happy' and 'sad' in everyday speech. i suppose these are the most accurate for describing the emotions that don't really matter-- the less intense that pass and we dont question so much; that a gist is enough for expression.

2006-04-14T23:55:00.000+08:00

my favourite track on the joni mithcell album i have is carey. the one i remember most is the circle game. nobody will understand this post but me.

2006-04-14T00:58:00.000+08:00

honestly, its so hard to express myself now. just before the net set up i was all ready with the right string to unravel the knot of emotion-- but i've lost it.

if i dont get a scholarship, i am going to
1/ take night classes in fashion design and fashion redering
2/ belly dance with mandy and inflict permanent brain damage onto the people who didnt contribute their taxes as good citizens should have to providing us money for gainful employment [ie scholarship] we will also be taking up swedish to jar your mind so bewwareeeee the twin terrors
3/ learn to sulam-- embroider kebayas and baba shoes. and to cook. and become an honorary nonya lady. i swear, if i stay here i WILL do this, even if making belacan stinks up the whole house.

doing all this would probably eat up a lto of time i guess so i would be happily occupied enough. embroidery for one would help a lot-- doing thinsg with hands has always had a calming effect on me. which also suggests the idea of taking up pottery again, seriously and for good.

SIDETRACK: john berger mentions affandi. the sg arts scene suddenly becomes illuminated

i wonder if you remember the inching worm

2006-04-12T16:28:00.000+08:00

waiting for a threadless spree to buy moby was a consumer. im in love with threadless tees garh WHY oh WHY did the napoleon one go oos on me!!

anyway who needs boyfriends when there are shoes! after usp interview today [i think i did horribly.. they asked terrible questions like 'which modules would you take in engineering?' and 'do you know exactly how small a nano is?'--- who the hell would know! plus, im hyper allergic to maths] mom and i went down to town in lieu of lunch with chern, and bascally raided ricci no. honestly, your run of the mill charles and keith/ urs shoes are a far cry both in comfort and design from these. the detail and the class are unsurpassed, as far as im concerned. even if i become, by some fluke shot, a hawt fashionista, i will be wearing ricci no shoes over jimmy choos/ manolos any day. that being said, i bought three pairs and am extremely pleased with myself. [not to mention extremely broke] two of them were on discount though, and of course as regulars we get even more off. the lady recognised me from the last few times i'd gone, and so i, too, qualify as a walking discount card! i dont think i will have to buy any more shoes for the next x years-- consider the fact that the shoes ive been breaking recently are all at least four years old [yes i break shoes. ive broken 4 pairs recently so.] buying new ones is certainly justified!

on another note, i am crazy in love with john berger. started on a new book+ bought another, and they are all fantastic in their distillation of thought and emotion. i think i will bring his short essay on poetry to class- and am so going to force this current book [because it doesnt deal with incomprehensible art historical narratives] on chern.

2006-04-11T16:19:00.000+08:00

the art of choosing is very hard to master.
my wadrobe has such strange clothes that
my fashion sense is utter disaster.

choose something every day. accept the cluster
of earrings tangled clashing with the flats.
the art of choosing is very hard to master.

then practice choosing colour, choosing lustre:
okay i run out of rhyme here.
this is a terrible recreative.

i have all the clothes i need but they dont match.
i have all the colours i need but in copic.

2006-04-09T14:06:00.000+08:00

my candle burns at both ends
it will not last the night
but ah my foes and oh my friends
it makes a lovely light

edna st vincent millay

i am Annoyed that i am at the mercy of temperamental scholarship boards. had a particularly bad day yesterday, but i guess i can stave it off by painting. so here i go

2006-04-02T22:44:00.000+08:00

The Expatriate
Achtung! You are 30% brainwashworthy, 18% antitolerant, and 23% blindly patriotic

Congratulations! You are not susceptible to brainwashing, your values and cares extend beyond the borders of your own country, and your Blind Patriotism does not reach unhealthy levels. If you had been German in the 30s, you would've left the country.

One bad scenario -- as I hypothetically project you back in time -- is that you just wouldn't have cared one way or the other about Nazism. Maybe politics don't interest you enough. But the fact that you took this test means they probably do. I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt.

Did you know that many of the smartest Germans departed prior to the beginning of World War II, because they knew some evil shit was brewing? Brain Drain. Many of them were scientists. It is very possible you could have been one of them.

Conclusion: born and raised in Germany in the early 1930's, you would not have been a Nazi.

The Would You Have Been A Nazi? Test
- it rules -

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 27% on brainwashworthy

You scored higher than 13% on antitolerant

You scored higher than 21% on patriotic

Link: The Would You Have Been a Nazi Test written by jason_bateman on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

AWWWWWWW DAMN despite the fact that that my fave topic was nazi germany, i would not have been nazi!!!!!! that stinks!!!! no ubermenschen for me. and, furthermore, i may have migrated to america, where i would have transmorgrified into one of the [i censor myself here] people currently trying to take over the world

but then im just lefty. btw john berger= crazy new love. just bought another of his books. am reading an art hist book by mary acton, and wish i had applied to oxford because SHE WRITES SO WELL TOO its idiot proof art history.

2006-04-02T00:00:00.000+08:00

YOOOO HOO EVERYBODEEEE i have a BEEEEG IDEA

the same way i got to know arab street through an exploratory expedition of sorts, i want to get to know the art scene better!! so anybody keen on going for an art tour with me? we'll plot a route, ive got a guide i picked up at opera, i'll do all the research, and we can GO GO GO!

dont be intimidated by the idea of art-- its quite friendly really and very easy to love. :) please come i will want company so i can raaaave. please reply. call/sms/tag/email/msg so we can work out dates and a route and pitstops like for nice tea. exciting!

2006-03-31T22:07:00.000+08:00

NEW EXCITING PROJECTS
to experiment making nauseatingly cute things with quick bake clay and to SILKSCREEN! awright so who wants cool shirts tyou knwo where to go

2006-03-30T22:50:00.000+08:00

i am very proud of my usp essay- its suitably academic, yet delightfully neo- feminist. :) and it gave me a good excuse to put off my marking and read history of art like nobody's business. not that im gonna stop; only perhaps start on the piles of work drowning out my tabletop....

2006-03-24T21:40:00.000+08:00

travesty is selling your mr batchelor mr purvis mr kwok books on sgst. i dont know, but its a dismal thing. i realise that in saying so i am being needlessly sentimental, but nonetheless i will be clinging on to my lessons for life.

2006-03-22T18:21:00.000+08:00

would time say nothing but i told you so?
if i could tell you i would let you know

the caas round one was- as expected- nicht se gut. i dont think i will have a very good time with the 'corporate' ish scholarships [like sia, cpf] cause of art history. no idea why im makign life hard for myself either.

it struck me more, though, how private my life these two years has been. at the place today one of the other candidates asked to read my testimonial, and you could dismiss it as a natural guardness arising out of the competitive tension, but i do think its more than that.

this is my stumbling block, you see: my emotions. in part i can identify with G. Greene's Scobie-- money and power don't mean anything, but i could sell out for a soppy note. When faced with the request, i was instinctively affronted.. i mean, its not like theres anythign wrong with asking, but then the testimonial in question is intensely personal- and how can anyone even guess the experiences behind the words- how can anybody understand it with a flippant reading; how can anybody understand... okay here is where my words run dry.

meanwhile: OMG I MISSED OUT ON THE TEN BUCKS THREADLESS SPREE! all the ones on sgspree are closed!!!! am annoyed. AH WELL the napoleon tee is OOS anyway> HMPF

2006-03-22T00:15:00.000+08:00

sounds totally bombotic, but i am wearing my ricci- nos for interviews to feel Powerful and Sexy and Confident. they start tmr. wish me luck. i need a scholarship.

2006-03-20T16:38:00.000+08:00

the more i read this poem the better it gets.
meanwhile anyone have poems suitable for sec two? i am wraching my brains, the onyl one i could think o fwas prayer before birth. louis macneice, i think?

Love Songs in Age

She kept her songs, they took so little space,
The covers pleased her:
One bleached from lying in a sunny place,
One marked in circles by a vase of water,
One mended, when a tidy fit had seized her,
And coloured, by her daughter-
So they had waited, till in widowhood
She found them, looking for something else, and stood

Relearning how each frank submissive chord
Had ushered in
Word after sprawling hyphenated word,
And the unfailing sense of being young
Spread out like a spring- woken tree, wherein
That hidden freshness sung,
That certainty of time laid up in store
As when she played them first. But, even more,

The glare of that much- mentioned brilliance, love,
Broke out, to show
Its bright incipience sailing above,
Still promising to solve, and satisfy,
And set unchangeably in order. So
To pile them back, to cry
Was hard, without lamely admitting how
It had not done so then, and could not now.

Phillip Larkin

2006-03-14T15:21:00.000+08:00

i just watched eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, and its a fantastic film. it does remind me a lot of my own memories, which i an willing away a la phillip larkin. our class watched the show at the end of jay one, though i gave it a miss. what i had hoped would happen never materialised though, so i ave only belatedly watched the movie today.

i dont knwo about you but the movie reminded me very much of what kundera was describing in the unbearable lightness of being: the way your life has a certain kind of motif that keeps picking up. partly this motif is dreamed into being, the way i may walk past a sign on the street and feel its significance, and another person may not think it even worth his notice. it is a self- prepetuating thing, and often is shared with people with whom you have been close with. what would pick up then, in your consciousness, with the fragments of a long-forgotten song, stuffed frantically away in a frenzied attempt to run away, returning unespectedly from the furthest corner of your mind? have you ever had any overwhelming sense of deja vu?

its the sense of an opressing significance which has been greeting me often these days. instintively wanting to buy that turtle purse on sgst, the song if, the movies im watching. michael, who has known me long enough, might observe that my life has reached another refrain.

anyway this is off michael's blog. www.myheritage.com thinks i look like this whole bunch of korean actreses, gong li and lucy liu. most consistently lucy liu. am i supposed to feel flattered?

2006-03-13T17:53:00.000+08:00

YEE- HA! sinfest has started updating again!

i hate scholarship applications btw, my essays are even more fraudulent than my D for econs s. the poem 'conceit' by DH Lawrence is especially salient, and it really rang a bell when chern sent it to me. oh yeah, what's modern life but a swirl of spin anyway? chunlong is right in saying i have the wrong values and interests for this country and age: there is no viable scope for me to explore my passion, and thus i will have to make painful compromises to a world in which i find nothing interesting. ah well.

yesterday i was having an eustacia vye day: "The only way to lok queenly without realms or hearts to queen it over is to look as if you had lost them"
what other way is there of describing such days? 'ennui' doesnt quite cut it: its a feeling of intense desolation and hopelessness, an outlook upon vistas fo bleak from which there seems to be no reprieve.

Conceit

It is conceit that kills us
and makes us cowards instead of gods.

Under the great Command: Know thy self, and that thou art mortal!
we have become fatally self-conscious, fatally self-important, fatally entangled in the Laocoön coils of our conceit.

Now we have to admit we can't know ourselves, we can only know about ourselves.
And I am not interested to know about myself any more,
I only entangle myself in the knowing.

Now let me be myself,
now let me be myself, and flicker forth,
now let me be myself, in the being, one of the gods.

DH Lawrence

such a relevant poem, which just begs the question: how come i never noticed it in my anthology?

2006-03-12T20:58:00.000+08:00

"What are you?"
"Disappointed."

2006-03-05T22:16:00.000+08:00

captain futureslick

2006-03-04T19:41:00.000+08:00

you can only say that its runnign away, this propensity to lie down and close my eyes; hugging my pillow and wishing it were something else: a fuzzy animal, a byfriend, a wad of cash.... Etc.

2006-03-03T23:22:00.000+08:00

my reaction to my grades can probably best be described as a classic freudian complicated emotional entanglement. i will probably never say it as it is here.

on the other hand i went sticker shopping today, but there dont seem to be any decent stickers anywhere. 3i went beserk over the elephants, so in the end i went back to keane's tuition place to get erm. lions and leopards. everything else looked retarded. but i digress. i mean to say that i walked inot cardsnsuch and they have all these nici critters! and i heart the key rings! always wanted to own one but never thought they were worth the nine bucks. now that im earning my own money, i'll think about it. meanwhile this is a wide hint to everyone who is trying to win favour. gahahaha. i love the fox. i think i will buy him for me. and then decide where to put him. Grin. omg keep me away from cute fuzzy things!!!

2006-02-28T21:32:00.000+08:00

im too tired, but otherwise i would have gone on very long about why i hate tai tais and why i aspire to be one to redeem their bad taste in art.

main point: TELL ALL YOUR DEcENT RICH GUY FRIENDS! TROPHY WIFE AVAILABLE!

2006-02-26T13:01:00.000+08:00

frankly, im tired of everything. you could probably put all this down to stress, or pms, but the effect is the same.

i dont think i could feel any more apathetic about anything- im not even bothered about results on wed. hahaha honestly, im more excited about getting the day off school. am wondering the prudence of releasing this blog's add to my students- they have been asking, but i do realise that in so doing i am probably going to seriously corrode whatever regard/respect/shreds of kind feeling they have for me at the moment. haha.

here is my treatise against online application forms! they are distortingly disadvantaging towards less techno-friendly [i say that because technology is allergic to me, and not the other way round] scholar wannabes. i can't find my way around the psc gateway: can't find the place to add s papers, and their drop down list of courses doesn't even list history of art as a possible option! clearly this does not bode well. you alre all welcome to laugh at me now, because its very clear that im just lousy with the com. hahaha. so much for rushing my statement!

on another note, i have been fascinated by the renaissance. am now going to buy crazy books on the individual painters and read them! yeehoo! voluntary mugging! ive just ruled out a lot of scholarships, so at this rate it looks like im gonna be stuck doing self-study for the rest of my life.

2006-02-24T22:26:00.000+08:00

looking through my old diaries/sketchbooks is both immensely interesting and sad at the same time. in class the other day 3I asked me for the block off so that they could learn their campfire songs/cheers/etc for OAC, and they had this stand up hands tog chikachachikacha thing which smelled too much like the two orientations we went through as psls for me to dismiss. it strikes me rather painfully, though, what i have forgotten. i remember very distinctly that we had two special unofficial rg thingums, apart from the dum dum dee dee- does anyone remember the funky chicken thing?? the one where we all go silly, and theres one part where you have 'sthsthsth michael jackson [what did you say] sthsthsth michael jackson [2,3,4] ow ow ow ow ow etc' and theres the silly one where you do i dont rmb what but you end up going l lll llllll and in stitches from trying to laugh and sing the ditty at the same time, with your tongue stuck out and in a ridiculously silly contorted position.

the way i used to write strikes me also: not only has my handwriting changed, but i have stopped documenting events and gone into the contemplative. it probably comes with my philosophy that i apply to this blog too- it is a 'recently felt emotion', i suppose, that i would rather forget and let go so many things than hoard them up wholesale in my memory, and forever be ruminating upon the past. as such i delete this blog periodically,[when occassion provokes it], and record my thoughts mostly, and hardly if ever talk about events in the style of the girly yet heartfelt yet teenage angsty accounts that i used to give.

still, it was with dismay that i found i hadn't recorded these little game- things: though i distinctly remember feeling slightly silly as i recorded similarly silly things i wanted to remember forever, if not for their inherent worth then for the little trivial joys they provided me, at least in that point in time. looking back, it is hard to relocate that precise emotion- our more recent amusements have irrevocably been changed by the passage of time and experience.

its is with ambivalence that i regard memory- on one hand, i lament the disillusionment tarnishing the idealism that i used to have, but on the other hand i appreciate the sense of perspective that i believe i have now. but then again i am acutely aware of the fact that when i look back upon this, too, in the future- i may well be looking back with similarly mournful cynicism on the beliefs that i hold now. it is a historian's dilemma that accompanies this: on the one hand, to want to keep everything untainted by subsequent experience and from the rose-tint of nostalgia, yet painfully aware that he must succumb to the imperfections of human nature and the limitations of the human mind.

all the same, various as my experiences have been, i would probably say that i do not regret my course of life. whether this is because i am glad of my situation, or whether my memory has become selectively omissive, it is impossible to tell.

2006-02-19T00:35:00.000+08:00

do this! especially if you ahve done my johari window. very amused! its v interesting to compare how different people see you, and how you see yourself, and etc etc etc. haha just do it will ya

2006-02-16T22:27:00.000+08:00

I HAVE LOST ANOTHER 2KG OMG this is dusgusting. i now weigh in at 45 kilos, which is just TOO LIGHT. as such, it is imperative that i launch operation overeat with a venegance. henceforth, i regard all gifts of bens and jerries as objects of intense er, i dont know. yumminess. er, clearly that was a bad attempt at a pun. double entendre down the drain.

i amused myself today whilst giving my prcs extra lessons, by marvelling at how drastically my standard of spoken chinese has declined. for some strange reason i dont find it that hard to read chinese- which mirrors my progress in learning german- but take forever to understand when posed with auditory signals. it's quite interesting to observe the different ways we percieve the universe- chern's poetry, for example is full of sound, whereas i use a lot of imagery.

but anyway before i get pretentious here do me this!

2006-02-15T22:23:00.000+08:00

to all funkyfish!!!
class blog is at whathefish.blogspot.com
i have sent out invites to random people who i think still use their email addresses/ use blogger or well basically random people. if you havent got an email in the right acct- cause you need to have it in the one that matches your blogger acct- TAG. or, if i ahve missed you our for seom reason too, tag w your email as well. i will get down to inviting everybody

meanwhile post away!

2006-02-05T19:03:00.000+08:00

having a job- teaching, i mean, has brought me out of my ivory tower and shown me how completely sheltered my life as it was has been. i love studying, i love soaking up information, i love thinking, but working life does not involve anything remotely academic whatsoever. it makes me feel somewhat lost, becoming a somewhat silas marner situation where i turn increasingly introspective, leading to navel-gazing depression.

teaching isnt all that bad, i mean- i do love my classes, but the routine, and the understimulation of brain cells is very dulling. there's nothing new! and no time outside of teaching and marking and being exhausted to be able to think much, let alone read up on something new.

last night i rediscovered my sense of perspective, and an resolved to pull myself out of this rut. and omg i am so goign to sto here because my writing has totoally degenerated!!!!!!!!! ugh ugh

2006-02-02T21:26:00.000+08:00

oh gawd give me my brains back, i miss writing history essays and reading fantastic books and readings and thinking [or trying to anyway] like an economist, and omg i even miss maths.

every day i feel like i get more and more dumb, my vocabulary is shrinking and so is my depth of thought. nowadays its only 'omg more marking' or 'ok this poem is fantastic. isnt it?' or 'omg i need to sleep' im so tired out everyday, love my classes but really dont like to teach. i feel like im perpetually waiting for something that will never materialise- some kind of eternal purgatory, whcih makes everything seem so hollow and unpurposeful. last year it was waiting for the year to end. and then? now its waiting for results, and perhaps scholarships. and then?

what is supposed to come? after i study, it's back to work again, marking time till the day ends. counting money. what is the purpose in all that? when i had [], it was a kind of hope, and i felt like i'd really lived. but that was just a dream. What is the point of any after?

i am no cleopatra, i can only amble on and attempt to subsist.

2006-01-17T00:48:00.000+08:00

have been clearing the room as is traditional to do before chinese new year. in the process of which i have discovered the page on which i processed a past conversation- which quite upset me.

i am feeling sorry for my files now because in my frustration i was throwing them around, very violently. my room is a clutter of files and papers now, which si deeply perplexing. it strikes me how it is so hard to reach expression: we try and try but in the end the words ring false, and we feel betrayed by our very thoughts. thus, the expedience of hurling files and tossing papers- perhaps because of a primeval prompting imbued in our psyche, but it represented enough to me at least, of the chaos of mind.

i eventually got down to tearing the paper up, which i dont like at all. paper makes me happy, and i have no idea why. thus the destruction of paper is particularly distressing [i mean like, relatively. haha. you cant go all 1984 on me and force confessions by tearing paper in front of my face. you can, however, probably attempt that by placing me in an enclosure where manta rays cruise over the glass above my head all the time.] -especially if the paper has something written on it. tearing into little unintelligible pieces a densely written page, you get a sense of a forsaken intensity, present still in all its fragmentary pieces, each containing a hint of the earlier communication that glows. it is a yearning, perhaps, a reluctantly conceded feeling for something that i am willing myself to discard. something that i must force myself to forget.

2006-01-11T23:25:00.000+08:00

today was the annual chinese new year cookie baking day, where all the females my moms side of the family get together and have a monster baking session. Last year, i actually ponned school to do this. and this year, we got to make LOVE LETTERS! we havent made them for eight years already!!!! happily i got to roll them, though right now im feeling a bit cock-eyed, because squinting at hot love letters while sitting in a contorted position the whole day is just not good for the back. And legs. And eyes. wooooo
though we have seven tins [talk about opp cost man] of love letters to show for it! thing about having them home made, is that they arent made so thick. so you get really delicate crispy wafers, that are not half as sweet and cloying as commercial ones. Okay, so im biased. So shoot me.
my mom had a fun time answering all calls today with "hello, 40 guan soon bakery?"
we have mountains of cookies now, as every year, and yes we will have another day to make tarts! and flower cookies! and butter shortbread cookies. and those funny blueberry thingums.

chern!!!!! is back!!!!!!! and she popped by from the airport!!! [and commented that our baking was like a festival. my grandaunts were all very amused] and!!!!!!! she brought fabulous drool worthy things!!!!!! i mean, she brought a krispy creme! and a fantabulistic mega cookie! and chocolate from spain! and a lovely tin full of lovely biscuits!!!! i mean, DROOL DROOL DROOOOOL. and, to top it off, a WHOLE ENTIRE BOOK ON BOTTICELLI!!!!! in other words, or actions, if you will have it- DROOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLL i am now officially in love with the angel in profile on the painting madonna of the pomegranate. i ant a botticelli boyfriend!!!!! [and omg the adoration of the magi. botticelli!!!! drool drool drool okay chern you know youve made me one happy girl today GRIN