Boxing Day fury

The extended family has eased back into the routine of gathering on Christmas Day, thanks to Cuzzin's Christmas baby boy. As I shuffled through his house yesterday evening to avoid my aunts from capturing me in a vice grip and shoving turkey in my face, I also had the chore of keeping myself sane among all the yelling and screaming and hollering of the throngs of kids. Plus the sight of kids tottering around with iPhones has become a mundane sight; my 5-year-old niece could happily say no to ice cream cake when she cradled her Mum's iPhone on her lap.

And I wonder if anyone ate the following for their Christmas dinner, judging from the spread the extended family had put together last night. And I made it REALISTIC by popping the calorie count in, just to complete the Boxing Day post-binge nightmare:

1 serving of roast turkey (251g) 429 calories
1 serving chicken pie (234g) 500 calories
1 slice chocolate cream cake (28.35g) 104 calories
1 serving mashed potato (210g) 237.3 calories
1 serving pork ribs (224g) 571 calories
1 pork sausage (100g) 339 calories
1 can Budweiser beer (357g) 146 calories
1 serving table red (147g) 122 calories
1 serving dessert wine (103g) 164.8 calories

2613.1 calories

And that's one ONE serving of some Christmas-y chomps. Imagine if you had washed down 3 grilled pork sausages with a can of Bud, dug into that hearty Christmas pudding like a first-grader and hijacked that turkey thigh? *shudders* Whatever it is, it's Boxing Day today, so start throwing yourself onto the threadmill already. Christmas, fyi, doesn't afford binging in my case. It's more of enjoyment in proportion, and having good-quality food with the people you love. NOT bursting your belts.

1 serving penne in creamy vegetarian alfredo (260g) 286.4 calories
Dinner at cuzzin's (benefit of the doubt) 500 calories
1 serving veggie salad with chickpeas (263g) 175 calories
1 glass Brown Brothers rosa Moscato (250ml) 205 calories

1166.4 calories

See? No binging required.

Let the love march in

I was being serious when I told Jack that I'm too lazy to blog for the last few days because there're simply too many thoughts to re-organise and literate in coherent sentences. Okay I procrastinate.

I can fully empathize with those who have been forced by circumstances to live apart from their loved ones for long periods of time, because Dad has been shuttling between Singapore and his work overseas for the past few years. While I've grown, not by choice, accustomed to the absence, it's leaves an unfillable vacuum within the family fabric that has, on many occasions, challenged our bonds. And I wouldn't want to be in Mum's position; to have her husband torn from her by work, to lay on the cold of the bed linen at night and pray silently for that other warmth to cuddle into, and to sit on an indefinite schedule for the next time he comes home. I would go berserk within the week if I were in her shoes. So it's fully justified that they take this week off as a reward for their unwavered perseverance and the love I'm still learning to grasp fully. Looking forward to the family trip next week, even if it means missing out on tuition sessions and time with Jack.

And nothing's insurmountable after all, judging from this semester. I was awoken abruptly by the pull SMS that morning at 7am, deliberated for 30 minutes with my heart in my throat, and let out a hearty cheer that sounded suspiciously like the screeching of a banshee. My gamble has paid off, and I thank those who have stood by me, fed me your trust and empowered me with the will to keep breaking down walls. While I'm anticipating another 2 hectic semesters to hurdle over, the strength you all have given me will keep my engines chugging healthily until the very last moment. Hello there, Honours Year.

I know we're going to be labelled kan chiong spiders when I say this: we went to HDB to take a look at their latest BTO offering and, being the perfectionists we are, we simply couldn't bring ourselves to love 100% of the unit layout. For a start, it doesn't seem to make much sense to nest the shelter room within the kitchen and have its door open outwards, effectively blocking the way to the laundry area. Plus the kitchen simply isn't large enough for my liking, especially when I want to make cooking a great part of my domestic life. So the verdict's a no this time round. Oh well. We had fun anyway. We always do. :)

11 days to sun, sand and the sea. :)

Eat-loads drink-loads Gurlie outing

It's been about a month since we last met up! Popped by Cafe Iguana at Clarke Quay for dinner over the last Friday for some catching up and makan courtesy of HY's first paycheck. :) And I might have Mexican blood in me, considering how much I love guacamole, tortilla and all fare Mexican. That's definitely going on my To-Cook list. ;)

What's love, without more love? ;)

Oh, and I just have to mention this. HY bought us each a bottle of colorful sweet pops from this sweet shop called Sticky, which specialises in handmade rock candy. While sussing out the various flavours in my bottle of bonboniere, I was entertaining myself by deciphering the who-love-who names on the sweets.


What if, one day, you had bought a bottle of assorted Sticky bonbons, and found your partner's name on it, along with a name that's not yours? What if, his/her name wasn't the common kind of name you would find on the streets? Wouldn't you just die of cardiac arrest?

LOLz. Julie is random is the most annoying ways.

Geyao outing to ECP!

I actually forgot exactly when we last had a Geyao seniors outing, but it has definitely got to be more than six months ago. We decided to veer from our conventional activity, i.e. karaoke and makan, and went outdoors instead. We prolly damaged Jia Hui's car by squeezing 5 in the backseat from Parkway Parade all the way to ECP. :P



It's either that I've not been to ECP for yonks, or the prices for bike rental has dipped real drastically due the increase in competition in the business. We each got decent bikes at $6 for 3 hours! I sound like a country bumpkin. : Plus my cycling skills were really rusty.

Jetty! Plenty of people fishing despite the drizzle, and the spot's really scenic with the late afternoon sky's rosy hue. Raymond brought his kites, so we decided to have a shot at flying them. The parafoil kite was incredibly difficult to fly, especially with the drizzle. Then it started to shower so we were forced to retire to a pavilion nearby, where we spent an hour playing a full round of Saboteur and picnicing. And the rain turned out to be those long-drawn kind of heavy drizzle, so we were forced to cycle back to the shop, which was probably 1 km away, in the rain. I was secretly congratulating myself for foreseeing the probability of it raining and reminding Jack and myself to bring an extra shirt to change out of, as well as baby wipes to clean up. We wound up cycling harder than ever, and my arse and thighs hurt from the fervent peddling, my eyes stung from the relentless pelting of the rain and the back of my shirt and jeans was splotched with sand and grit kicked up by the rear tyres of the bike. I felt uber yucks by the time we all arrived back at the shop, all drenched to the bone and spotting the same brown patch on the back of our shirts. It was hilarious in a super sick manner. But we had fun, didn't we?

Trotted back to one of the hawker centres near Parkway Parade for dinner, and Jack told me that there was actually a KOI shop nearby. Strangely, it was like lighting a matchstick and then watching it burn out real fast. The craving started and stopped just there. There's a reason why I love my sense of self-control when it comes to craving sinful food.

Hopefully it won't all end after the outing yesterday, because I've had so much fun with this buncha, I want it all over again (minus the rain and sand in my hair). And I kinda miss the camaraderie, even though it may mean on different levels with different individuals.

(P.S.: Prior to meeting the rest of them at Parkway Parade, I was actually having a hissy fit about wearing long jeans to the park, when all of them had been decked out in shorts. Blessing in disguise after all. :) I've got Jack to thank for that.)

Despicable you

To gain via despicable means is like throwing a boomarang -
just wait for the day it returns to hit you in your right eye.

I wouldn't head over to People's Park Centre if I didn't need to accompany Mum on her round of errands; it's like getting caught in the middle of a crowd in a war ration centre. Man, do those aunties shove and push like nobody's business. Not to mention that I got shoved by an auntie owner of a small apparel shop into its changing room along with a Zara-inspired sundress and ended up buying it. Psshhh. Aunties can be such horrific manifestations. Please please please never let me become one when I grow old and wrinkly.

Trip to the tour agency reaped some useful information. I'm excitedly fiddling with my fingers thinking about what's to come within the next 6 months. ;) Time to load up the bank account and quit all decadence!

22 days to sun, sand and sea. :)

Knots and Tangles

Spent the last few days packing up stuff. First on my side, then on Jack's side. My to-throw list has doubled since the last packing, while Jack threw out 7 bags of whatnot from his room. It's comforting to see that his desk is no longer strewn with letters and gifts from a light year ago. Hopefully the Virgorians in us will continue to chug hard. :)

Rupunzel! Disney's 50th animated film, A Tangled Tale, features the fairytale character in an adaptation of the original film, but with a slight twist to the plot. It might have been unconventional, predictable, blah blah blah, but who cares? At least it made everyone laugh and the 'happily ever after" stuck. Isn't that what Disney is lauded for? If you love Shrek, you'll love A Tangled Tale. Just don't forget the Grimm Brothers' version, if you even remember it in the first place.

Ops Trash-Out

Massive Ops Trash-It.

Following my cranky CPU, I excavated years of dusty ten-year-series, JC and secondary school books for the garang guni man. Plus my JS module readings, purely out of angst. Thanks to my immaculate organisation over the years, I cleared out three whole stacks within the hour. The trashing process was strangely therapeutic, especially when it involved throwing out those unhappy memories along with my secondary school notes. Thankfully, it was also during then that I found the best gems of my life - my great clique and my Gurlies. As for the rotten eggs and the heartbreakers and the fantastically plastic laughter... let's not go there. I've thrown them out already.

Downtime

Another one of those fall-into-the-abyss moments; it dawned upon me that I could barely count the number of friends whom I could dial for in an emergency with both hands. Depressing passing thought, considering the number of people I actually wave ‘hi-byes’ to in school. Ironically, I’ve repeated this moronic routine of convincing myself that I don’t need to paw at people who don’t put me in their minds because it’s not worth the brain cells. And yet I’m fervently drilling at the painful spot again, tonight.

You must be cursing me for lamenting, given the fact that I’m blessed with a relatively normal family, a particular Mr. Jack whom I can’t tear myself away from, my bunch of three girlfriends and my secondary school clique who have stuck by me all these years. I’m blessed, I’d admit it. I love these people more than anything else in the world. They are the ones who would never say never. They are the ones who would never leave me in the lurch to die. They would never say ‘hi-bye’ and fade away.

Because I realized that, having said all that, many of those who have made grandeur promises and crossed their hearts on them, never made any of those dreams come true. It’s always the unsung heroes, my heroes, who have lit the correct paths for me in all altruistic fashion whenever I set foot in the wrong places.

Tonight, all I think about is the love and strength you all have given me, and it’s more than enough to tide me through this downtime.

Hols bore

We ditched our original plan to get free Starbucks, after all.


Jack had to get on with his preparation for his FYP presentation tomorrow, so I decided to stick by him, with a James Patterson novel as good company. I never understood how Patterson made it look like a no-sweat job as he churned out each of his masterpieces. I downed Double Cross and Lifeguard within 3 days, and I'm definitely going back for more.





We never learn to stop at one, do we?

Megamind, I'd reckon, is a kindergartener's definition of a blockbuster. I sat through the first 30 minutes wondering if we did justice to our wallets by choosing this movie over the others we wanted to catch, because the plot seemed so predictable and most of it had already been shown in the trailer. But I loved the great twist in the middle and the kind of message it brought to the little tykes sitting in the cinema. This movie actually reminds me fondly of UP, if anyone remembers. I like such clean-cut, profanity-free movies once in a while to cleanse our usually-heavy diet of violent and gory films.


Oh, and I made some cheese tarts yesterday afternoon purely out of boredom. I'm the go-getter, not the sit-here-and-wait-to-die kind. And I like how my December calendar is filling up with activities everyday. Concerts, boardgames, tuition, the Malaysia trip and, most importantly, having Dad back with us for 2 weeks. The gruelly study routine in school has, unfortunately, made a fervent workaholic out of me.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part I

I vaguely remember myself rambling over how bad the previous installation of Harry Potter was, and I actually told Jack that it was the director's fault for that. Apparently, they hadn't changed the director for the last three movies. Bimbo moment. While we've heard from a close friend that the movie was (still) a letdown, we needed a proper closure, and skipping the last parter was equivalent to tearing out the last few pages of a storybook and throwing them into the wind.


Few reasons why I think Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is probably the best of the 7-parter epic story about the boy wizard:

One. The cast. It's like Chinese New Year's Eve all over again, except it was as though everyone returned to the screen just to die. And Potterphiles would already have, at their fingertips, the names of those who'll be dying in the final movie. Besides, it's a movie both lovers and haters who have grown up with Harry Potter would want to watch, just to find out how our bespectacled protagonist fare against his blood seeker.

Two. 5 hours. That's how long I believe Movie 7 will be, including 2.5 hours for the first half. And if you've read the book and watched the movie, it would dawn upon you that alot of intricate details have been delicately removed from the original plot without harming the harmony of the entire movie. This was unlike the previous movies' plots, which have been lifted from the book so haphazardly that they hardly formed a coherent picture with non-readers.

Three. Those boys and that girl. Look what time has done to them. Do you even remember how our darling boy wizard and his sidekicks looked like in the first movie?

... not something I'd go gaga over. But 9 years changes alot of things. Alot. 9 years ago, I just stepped into secondary school. *Gags* 9 years ago, there was an order for one bespectacled ebony-haired boy, one gingerhead sleepyhead and one little girl with a bushy mane. They were nodescript kids of other people, until they got fished out of their big pond and into this huge Potter phenomenon. Lights, camera, action.

Rupert Grint (who plays Ron Weasley) put on so much bulk in the last movie, his biceps looked bigger than his head. While he didn't look anything like Taylor Lautner, he put on just enough to dwarf his co-stars. Daniel Radcliffe was... apologies, but he's not my type. But there's a common consensus as to how Emma Watson (who plays Hermione Granger) has metamorphosized into a beautiful young lady. While she was already developing beautiful curves and teasing male teenage minds since Goblet of Fire, she's got the men now. Even when she's chopped off her signature locks for a short crop, Watson's still every inch the man-eater, and with the Ivy League brains to boot. So can we safely say Harry Potter's finally a movie for everyone in the family now?

Greatness

I get it now. I'm actually a feminist. That I actually hate how the stereotypical male sounds like, because I hate it even more when none of those around me actually sounds close to conforming to that. And did I mention that I abhor inconsistency? Maybe that's what drew Private to me. I enjoyed how the women in Patterson's mind oozed manipulative power and brains.



While Alex Cross had been a brilliant creation of Patterson's, I loved the protagonist Jack Morgan in Private (no pun intended). He's the man-in-power every guy wants to be, has everything in life, and has everyone rich and famous at his beck and call. Yet Patterson etched a vulnerability list to Morgan as well; a problematic twin brother, a past he struggles to remember and then forget, as well as his own troubled love life. While the serial murders this time round were rather tame, it gave more time to the characters' development, something I gave Patterson the thumbs-up to; nothing spells a bad book than a whole load of smoke and a few empty characters. There's a whole good load of reasons why I devoured the book so quickly. ;)


Sundays never fail to pass so quickly; one week ago, I was crazily mugging for my Cybercrime paper and one week later, I went grocery shopping with Mum had a sumptuous dinner that went on for 3 hours with Jack's extended family.


Month 33 had not been easier than the previous months; we've had our fair share of tiffs and whatnot but, at the end of the day, I'm still back in your warm arms. Everytime we hit a brick wall, I tend to get easily intimidated by the myriad of possible conclusions. But you showed me, through and through, that there'll only be one solution, which is the one in which we'll kiss and make up and grow our relationship into a much stronger one than before. Another great month to bid farewell to, as we usher in another month of greatness.

I miss you.

Semester 7

I stepped into my 7th semester with the determination of a kamikaze pilot; it's either a do or die thing. Those close to me should be aware of the fact that I'm fighting for an honours, and this semester has been an extension in a bid to up my CAP. Some people told me, "Aiyah, Arts degree got honours or not also the same." It may be the case for these people, but not for me.

And I fought hard this semester.

Interestingly, after poring over it, I realised that I've learnt so much more this semester, I dare bet on it, than any of the past six. In fact, I was pretty self-condescending at the start of the semester, just before the recess week, openly jeering at myself. It's four level 3000 modules. What makes you think you're going to survive all of them? Are you letting the proverbial smoke get into your eyes?

And I kept telling myself you're gonna flop you're gonna flop you're gonna flop...

Until I met these good friends of mine.

They showed me that impossible was nothing, because when I first got to know that I had to handle these applications for NM3217, I was far from delirious. In fact, my inner technophobic almost jumped up and threw in the towel. But I knew a fight was eminent, because it was all I was there for. To put up a bloody great fight. And I conquered. And I was pretty proud of what eventually came out of it; 1 newsletter, 1 flier, 1 brochure and 1 website, or pretty much everything I told myself I wouldn't be skilled enough to accomplish.

I did my brochure within 4 days, and my website within 3. ;)

Definitely, there's got to be those potholes along the way.

Like those rowdy h o n s.ly students who declared themselves king of the castle.

Like uncooperative groupmates who have absolutely no idea that they're writing junk, even in Year 3, and never bothered to help in any other way. Does being the busiest person in your own world exempt you from GROUPwork? Are you even literate?

Like pushy groupmates.

And unfriendly ones.

And those who disappear... and appear as and when they deemed fit.

But I've got my own group of superheroes to thank for helping me through this semester. To my awesome 3226 group, who slogged through hours and hours in the lab just to get everything done. To the next awesome tutor Aaron for all his help in lab and answering all my uber last-minute emails.

Tempers flared ALOT this semester, I swear, and even more so when you put two positively sleep-deprieved, angsty and time-starved people together. I'm glad we pulled through with minimal injuries, and I thank whoever's up there every single day for bringing you into my life, no matter how pissed we were with each other sometimes. If couples don't quarrel, it simply means that they lack communication and concern for each other. What's most important at the end of the day is that blessed feeling of being able to love and be loved by that same person.

Thank you for tolerating my short tempers and PMS-sy moodswings.

Thank you for making that long trip to my home just to study with me.

Thank you for making a fool of yourself just to make me smile.

Thank you for loaning me to my project mates for hours for marthon project meetings.

Thank you for ... everything.

We may have not a penny to our names,

we may not have earned a reputation for ourselves,

we may not drive the biggest cars in the world or live in the most beautiful homes,

we may not be lucky enough to travel far and wide,

we may not have everything other couples have.

But we've got each other, and that's more than enough for a lifetime.

I fell asleep during my NM3210 exam today. Like, seriously, drooped off to sleep. And it happened more that just a couple of times during the whole duration of the exam.

Not the first time, though.

Mine

I know how much you hate Taylor Swift, but it's hard for me not to relate to this song because it's almost all about us. :)Because you're the best thing that's ever been mine.

You were in college working part time waiting tables
Left a small town, never looked back
I was the flight risk with the fear of fallin'
Wonderin' why we bothered with love if it never lasts

I say "Can you believe it?"
As we're lying on the couch
The moment I can see it
Yes, yes I can see it now

Do you remember we were sittin' there by the water?
You put your arm around me for the first time
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
You are the best thing that's ever been mine

Flash forward and we're taking on the world together
And there's a drawer of my things at your place
You learned my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded
You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

But we've got bills to pay
We got nothing figured out
When it was hard to take yes, yes
This is what I thought about

Do you remember we were sitting there by the water?
You put your arm around me for the first time
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
You are the best thing that's ever been mine

Do you remember all the city lights on the water
You saw me start to believe for the first time
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
You are the best thing that's ever been mine

And I remember that fight 2:30 AM
Cause everything was slippin' right out of our hands
I ran out crying and you followed me out into the street

Braced myself for the goodbye
Cause that's all I've ever known
And you took me by surprise
You said I'll never leave you alone
You said

"I remember how we felt sittin' by the water
And every time I look at you it's like the first time
I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter
She is the best thing that's ever been mine"

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
You are the best thing that's ever been mine

Would you...?

I have no idea how any woman can tolerate sharing her husband with another three women.

One of the groups in 3225 presented this and I thought, "Who the heck is that man with a huge house, a flashy Lexus, 4 wives and countless children?" I'm not against Mormon fundamentalism as a religion; the polygamy part of it simply freaks me out, especially after watching the videos related to the reality show Sister Wives.Did the first, and only legally married, wife expect her husband to be a Fundamentalist Mormon before she agreed to marry him? How did the other wives accept the fact that they were not legal wives to their husband? How could they tolerate knowing that their husband's away in another part of the house sleeping with another woman apart from themselves? And the epic question is, will he stop at 4? Or is he going to fall in love again and again and again?

While I'm against the idea of polygamy, their decision still has my respect, because it's amazing to see women work together like sisters for the family, with their own delineated roles in the household. As for the husband.... never mind.

Sayonara

Yes, our loyal feeder is going for good.

What a pity. Thank you for your lovely mushroom pasta, Aglio Olio and Primavera.

But Starbucks sounds way too good. :P

Inconsiderate

There're always times when that I'll wish for a miraculous server outage.

Especially when you've been downloading a hugeass file for the past 2 hours and you lose network connection because someone else (or rather, many people) is using the same connection to play Starcraft II.

DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND THE AGONY? Especially when this huge ass file is a matter of life and death for my project? How about I pull that pretty power plug from the arse of your laptop while you're completing the quest? Would you care about how many siege tanks you have then?

Julie is going to be an obedient girl/daughter/girlfriend and start taking great care of herself.

... which, unfortunately, includes everything except proper sleep. It's not some personal conviction thing, just damn schoolwork bogging me down. Alot of (older) people simply cannot understand why we youngsters are sleeping less and less. Is it too difficult to comprehend the fact that if we actually do sleep 8 satisfying hours a day, our grades will prolly hit rock-bottom faster than you can say 'NUS'? My mum nags every single night about us not sleeping early; she prolly haven't seen the scholars yet.

Good luck and good day to all undergrads. The night is still young.

Even heroes have the right to bleed

It was great while it lasted.

The Boardgame Clique held our boardgames-cum-trick-or-treat session yesterday at our Paya Lebar hideout. Boy, did we have a great time with the seemingly-dumb game of Balderdash, during which everyone was making up looney answers from acronyms, names, movies, dates and words we didn't know existed.

Like 3 June 1965.

Like Tuttles of Tahiti. (of which fyi, was not about a group of Tuttles lying around doing nothing.)

Like ICA. (Which could have meant anything from International Chiropractors Association to International Compliance Association.)

Like the bladderpipe.

And if you're even wondering what Balderbash means, here you go:

"Nonsense."

- Free Marriam-Webster Dictionary

And we played our usual share of Acquire, Money, Vegas Showdown and No Thanks, and had a calorie-laden dinner at Suki Sushi. Then the problem started when I was on the MRT home. Apart from feeling wozzy, I was getting a nagging migraine to the side of my head, like someone was rapping on it with a cane. Then the nausea. And the feverish sensation coursing through my veins down to my feet. And the tingling sensation in my fingers and toes. And I told myself I had to get off before I collapsed on the train (like a near-death experience I had couple of years back). Then on the bus home, red splotches started appearing my my forearms and palms. Crap, I heard myself curse silently. The worst part of it all? Arriving at home with a really bad stomachache, only to find out that both bathrooms have been occupied by women who take pride in bathing for the longest time. I wanted to just head out of the kitchen window and end my misery. The splotches had reached my calves, and I was seeing double by the end of my bath.

Goddammit.

And I fell asleep uncomfortably, praying that my immune system would goddammit kill every single horrid thing that's causing this within my body. What else?

Superman saves whoever's in need. But who will save Superman when he's in need?

Epic fail

This is absolutely hilarious.

And when I saw the following comment from someone in that loop which served to justify the above issue, I had the urge to just graduate this semester just to dissociate myself from THE tag.

If I'm not an honours student, does it mean my room bookings will always be subjected to the focus group schedules of the honours students?

Plus they were not chased out by their JUNIORS. They were reprimanded for using the room without booking it, and the admin lady told them that they had to vacate the room because someone else booked it.

Besides, who are you to grumble when you were obviously in the wrong? Plus the nice ladies actually offered you guys the STAFF LOUNGE. Wow. Now, convince me that final year students can use the staff lounge at their own free will. No?

I'm seriously impressed. You dared to present that point of view as a FACT. What an irony for a New Media student.

Hons.ly.

Kiss Me

Gosh I love this song, especially after hearing Olivia Ong's performance some time ago.

Kiss Me

Kiss me out of the bearded barley
Nightly, beside the green, green grass
Swing, swing, swing the spinning step
You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So kiss me

Kiss me down by the broken tree house
Swing me upon its hanging tire
Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat
We'll take the trail marked on your father's map

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So kiss me

Yesterday's presentation marked the end of coursework for NM3210, and I'm greatly relieved by that fact because I've got another 3 crazy modules jostling for my attention. If there's a instrumental phase, it's got to be these last 4 weeks. It doesn't help that the number of hours I sleep every day can be counted on one hand, and my emotional anchor is rarely by my side. Gosh I really need something to hold on to.

Yesterday's wedding is still freshly etched in my mind; every single frame of happiness overflowed with an abundance of joy and love, and I simply hate to think about the fact that this form of happiness will not be mine to enjoy until a few more years of toiling later. Oh well, the pains of living in a highly competitive environment.

I miss you, my 32-month-old love.

Love, and be loved forever more

The smell of fresh rose petals, the chatter of clusters of people, glitterazzi, the buzz of busy waiters at the cocktail reception, the boxful of red packets...

I've never felt so eager to attend a wedding before today's; I've always hated dressing up, finding the right clothes, hearing about how much I've changed, and all other forms of incessant blabber. Well I still hate the clothes-hunting part, but to be able to sit through a wedding and not zonk out is a big achievement for me. Plus I got to play reception. :)

And their love story was so close to heart; a love so pure and true, dating back to the days in NUS where they would study together. A courtship which stretched across the Arts and the Engineering faculty, and ended tonight on a lovely note - as a marriage everyone's been waiting for. And I know this love of ours that we've been growing, nurturing and showering with tender loving care will eventually bear fruit - just like theirs did.

And those pangs hit again. The urge to run into your arms and lay there thinking about nothing else but the life I'm looking forward to with you in it.

I miss you.

Stage play

I have to clarify; I'm not a KOI advocate, neither do I promote the extremely unhealthy obsession with the seemingly mundane drink.

Okay let me attempt to justify why some Singaporeans are so smitten with the milk+pearls+tea+sugar combo. People my age should know exactly when bubble tea was introduced to Singaporean tastebuds - we basically lived through the revolution which started with a monopolizing Quickly (or 快可粒) before several other names mushroomed. So naturally people would be flocking back to this familiar drink, despite the fact that it's adopted a Barbie-doll name called KOI. Just to give it some credit. KOI tastes slightly better than the regular $1.50 milk tea, and the smaller-than-others pearls fascinate my senses. But at $2.50 or more for other concoctions, it's a crazy deal, especially when I sit back and while slurping on a cup of KOI, decided that the extra dollar charged to me was absolutely for my queue slip, the plastic-sheathed straws and the choice to choose how much sugar I should be short-changed of in my drink. Perfect business model.

The catch? Gong Cha (貢茶), the lovely dome-covered cup of milk-topped Oolong Tea is still my kind of poison. The frothy milk cap which you can choose to either mix in or sip directly from the top prolly beats those odd-shaped KOI pearls hands-down.

And did I tell you about my harrowing experienceS with the telco with the S and the L? And everything went back to 2 years ago, after my parents was talked into subscribing to a 4-in-1 service at a much lower price than a competing telco was offering. Then the problems started. My WiFi would go dead all of a sudden, and I wound up needing to restart the system several times before getting the service back on. And I called in the telco technician probably half a dozen times to fix the problem, and everytime the problem would pop right back in after a week or so after the servicing.Things got worse when my Dad came back from overseas and had to tap onto the WiFi; my connection would snap instantly from all the traffic. AND I SERIOUSLY WANTED TO PUT AN END TO IT. Then my parents EFFING RECONTRACTED IT. My Mum said, "it has a bigger bandwidth you know". And I thought things would get better.

HELL NO.

I thought my nightmare would end when the technician came in about A MONTH AGO to fix up the new modem (apparently it was the SAME MODEM MODEL). After fixing up everything, he said, "Miss, I think your telephone line got problem. I think I go check for you, and I come back on Monday to fix it up."

HHHOOOKKKAAYY. *eyebrow twitches*

I received a call on the promised Monday from the guy, who called me using a private number. "Eh, Miss, I don't think I can come down today. Don't mind give me a few days?" That was the last I heard from him - I didn't even get his name or number down.

BECAUSE I SO WANTED TO CALL UP HIS MANAGER AND SCREAM AT HIM FOR HIRING SUCH AN INCOMPETENT AND LAZY ARSE.

So I called the telco 1 week later, from the Monday the technician last called. The system made me press commands for 5 minutes and hold for another 5 before I could talk to a technical support personnel. After telling her about my problem, all the sweet voice could say was, "Oh, sure, I'll email the technical support people to ask them to help you trace the technician on the job."

Are you thinking that I'm stupid? Don't I know how much red tape you guys have UP THERE?!

No replies, whatsoever for 1 week. My Mum was practically screaming at me, my Dad calls me on my phone during lecture to ask me about the phone line, and my relatives even thought our line got cut off because we couldn't foot the bill. And all this while I had shitload of projects on hand. The superb service of that telco just made it worse twice over. So I held back my anger one night and dialled their helpline again.

"Eh, sorry miss, if you don't have your Dad's IC number (the line is under his name), I cannot retrieve your account details. Sorry ah."

What a load of bovine excretement. The previous lady I called could trace my account details simply from my Dad's name and my home phone address. INCOMPETENT.

And I called again; it was the third phone call to a horrible service provider. I was pinching myself for not convincing my parents to switch to the other telco with similar services. The lady on the line apologised profusely and promised to send a technician down over the weekend. And so a technician was sent to my place yesterday to fix something that has gone wrong since the start of the month. Marvellous. Then I received a call from my sis amidst my tuition session - "Jie, they say they have to CHARGE US FOR THE REPAIR SERVICE." Dear horrible telco, are you telling me that you are CHARGING me for a job you didn't complete?! Their justification is because this job was apparently out of their scope of normal maintenance services.

GO DIE. SERIOUSLY.

The most horrifying thing came today; the customer service lady called me back to ask if everything was alright, and apologised again. But when I started to broach the subject of asking for a 1-month fee waiver (since we were deprieved of our telephone service for 1 month and therefore I see no point in paying for something I didn't use), she immediately started to speak in gibberish and started uttering whatnot, before going back to the question, "so is there anything else that I can help you with?"

These people should be commissioned to represent rogue countries in nuclear talks.

This is, by far, the worst kind of customer service ever.

Oh, and did I mention that I'll attempt to call back and ask for my 1-month waiver? We shall see what kind of wayang excuses these people can come up with.

Sometimes I just want to move out of this hell hole once and for all. There is no love here.

dream little dreams of PHI

My tuition kids do stuff that annoy and amuse me to no ends, and sometimes I marvel at how much tolerance I have of their nonsense.

Yesterday, one of them decided to 'digitalise' his handwriting, or so he deemed.

And even I myself am sick and tired of hearing my own ramblings about how school work and tutoring is killing my personal time. PLUS I wake up every morning feeling like a bad train wreck, with my eyes sticky and my brain still swirling from an unfulfilling rest (I could no longer qualify that as sleep. Do you THINK ABOUT HOMEWORK when you sleep? I do.). Things are getting so bad that I don't even have time to have a decent lunch with Jack in school; all our dating time is condensed into that 15-minute walk from the library to the bus stop where we take separate buses to tuition. It's going to be this painful, at least for the next 2 to 4 weeks, but we'll just have to get past it, by hook or by crook.

Unpretty

I have enough things to ruin my day, and to avoid incessant ranting I shall keep those nasty words to myself. What a way to end the day. Ironic.

By the way, while trawling through the Internet for my 3226 research, I came across TopShop's awesome make-up portal. For this, I think TopShop tops them all fashion brands when it comes to understanding what their customers really want out of a Web-2.0 style shopping experience. So itchy-handed me played around this girls' toy for a couple of minutes and it left me marveling at the technology employed.

The one of the left is the model's original look without make-up on, and the one on the right was done SOLELY with a single web application and nothing more. No Photoshop. No Illustrator. Now we know. And one more below just to make the point.

Ever wondered why your pretty little stick-thin girlfriend never leaves house without her smokey-eye 'do? Because it makes the world of a difference to YOU. And because you love her that way, she's so afraid that you might shrill like a banshee should you ever see her without any make-up on. I bet she sleeps with her smokey eyes on too.

Perpetually pissed tonight, and I think sleep will be the best medicine for this stinky feeling.

E-learning... what?

I'm expecting some flak as I say this: Second Life is the last thing I want incorporated into my curriculum. Even my SL character agreed as she watched the in-world webcast slouching in her seat.





You'll probably cuss me for complaining that I spent E-Learning Week in the virtual world as an avatar instead of listening to sleep-inducing droning over a boring webcast platform. But have you considered how this value-adds to the course content? Does spending an hour trying to maneuvere around the virtual NUS campus deem us more intelligent? NO. It'll be a good place to run away to and pretend to be someone you're not once in a while, but it's simply too agonising to use as a learning tool. And it wasn't any better off for the other modules; my workload doubled from the previous week, since everyone took the liberty to assign homework on the basis that we had more time to complete more stuff. Self-delusionaries.

Morning nights

Some of those at Temasek Review had to be such nasty gits, even in the wake of Mrs. Lee's demise. Seriously, is there anymore humanity left in those people? It's alright if you have differing political views, but don't you think that some of those comments reflect nothing but childishness? There's a thin line between freedom of speech and freedom of retarded expression.
I don't go by the Bible, but I believe this will mean something to the Lee family, and I hope they stand this test of courage. To MM Lee, PM Lee and the family for the loss of a loving wife and mother:

"Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial,
because when he has stood the test,
he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."
James 1:12 New International Version Bible

Attended my first church wedding yesterday, to see Jack's primary school classmate give her hand to her loved one. Sweet. I have a love-hate relationship with weddings; I like to witness the matrimony of madly-in-love people, but I hate the tear-jerking part but is always too embarrassed to cry openly. Hello, and it's not even my wedding. Wonder what will happen when that day comes. Invest in alot of tissue paper?

Anyway my toes are still throbbing from the horrid pumps (they're not even heels, for goodness' sake) and I'm expecting my nails to fall off some time next week.

Anyway, something courtesy of Phoebe to share here before I continue with my Cybercrime essay. Enjoy, ladies (and men, if you like to see a half-naked Lee Hom frolicking on the bed with a sticky-thin model with cakes and cakes of make-up on her. :P)

I'm a McFlurry

I burnt my recess week. Or ironically, school burnt my recess week. But then again, do we even differentiate? Every day is a work day, rain or shine, weekday or weekend, fit or sick.



And as a result, I missed out on a whole lot of wonderful events, which I'm going to cuss myself for.



Like being with Dad for the 6 days he could spend with us before returning back to Shanghai. I spent, what, less than half the days with him, including the hours he was in at home for. And it broke my heart to see him leave after a huge tiff - let's not go there - with my mum. I just wish I could have turned back time, but I realised that it wouldn't have made too much of a difference, since I would probably be still caught up in school work. And trust me, I hate myself for this.

Like missing out on Jane Zhang's (張靚穎) events when she was here for her album promotion. If you're scratching your head, I'd suggest a Youtube search of her performances, and be prepared to get blown away by her whistle register.

Like catching the F1. I am VERY VERY VERY sore about this. I miss the exhilarating feeling of having my hairs on the back of my neck stand on ends whenever those monsters fly by. I'll be saving up for the tickets next year, I promise.

And the root of all these was something called RECESS WEEK; All my lecturers probably decided that they would be the only ones who would be assigning homework to us, since it's recess week and no one has got any tutorials to attend.


Anyway, I had quitted whining and moved on with life. I decided to use up my GV birthday voucher by catching Legend of the Fist: the return of Chen Zhen with Mr. Jack.

Yes, there was alot of blood and people dying and crunching and snapping and stabbing sound effects, and the plot was ... old. Like typical kungfu films starring Donnie Yen, the protagonist was a people's hero during the World War, and he always wound up fighting the antagonist/s and winning during a last-gasp attempt. Bleah dry bleah. But I shall give the man some credit, since I must say I'm pretty impressed by those nifty moves he displays in his films, considering the fact that he's already 47 years old. Like, WOW.

And if you're still not convinced, I'm sure this will win your butt over:

Hell, yeah.

(P.S: Happy 31st month. :) )

How much is your love worth?

This tickled me to bits:

FYI, I DON'T weigh 500kg back then! I was just... humungous. LOL. And I never want to return to those days, never ever again. *Shivers* Anyway, thanks babe, and I'm looking forward to your return!

Did a little pondering over this thing called the future; is it as volatile as everything makes it out to be? Does everything has to connect like little nodes and make sense solely for the sake of the other nodes? Can't something ever be within my grasp?

Screw those philosophers.

I will decide my own fate.
I will work towards that life I want to live.
I will fight hard in the corporate world and earn a place.
I will marry the love of my life.
I will make the world a better place for those whom I can help.
I will save for that V10 engine, even if it takes me forever.
I will buy myself girly luxuries when I feel that I have worked enough to deserve them.

I will live the life I worked for.

Love

Love is real, real is love,
Love is feeling, feeling love,
Love is wanting to be loved.
Love is touch, touch is love,
Love is reaching, reaching love,
Love is asking to be loved.
Love is you,
You and me,
Love is knowing,
We can be.
Love is free, free is love,
Love is living, living love,
Love is needing to be loved.

- John Lennon, Love

DAMN DAMN DAMN

Goodness. I freaking hate school. It cast the rosy image of a well-deserved holiday going by the name of RECESS WEEK, and I end up doing MORE WORK THAN USUAL. And that means alot of give-and-take, quarrels within the family, a rocky relationship period, a perpetual bad mood, maximum stress and very, very little sleep.

F*** the holidays. Gimme back my school days.

Need you now

The Boyfriend is a brave young warrior, who had given himself up to wash and wax the car with me under the punishing afternoon sun and risked his life to sit in the car I drove out to get a birthday cake for my sister. It wouldn't mean a tad to anyone else, but it means more than the world to me. And all of a sudden, the realisation that I'm here without you, this very moment, is starting to drive me beyond the edge of sanity.

Lady Antebellum - Need You Now

Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor..
Reaching for the phone, cause i cant fight it anymore..

Ad i wonder if I ever cross your mind, for me it happens all the time

It's a quarter after one and I'm all alone and i need you now,
Said i wouldn't call but i lost all control and i need you now ,
And i don't know how, i can do without, i just need you now

Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door,

wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before,

and i wonder if I ever crossed your mind,
For me it happens all the time

It's a quarter after one and i'm a little drunk and i need you now,
Said i wouldn't call but I lost all control and i need you now,
And i don't know how i can do without, i just need you now,

Yes i would rather hurt then feel nothing at all,

it's a quarter after one, im alone and i need you now,
and i said i wouldn't call but I'm a little drunk and i need you now
And i don't know how i can do without, i just need you now,

I just need you now........

Age is just a dumb number

Before I start, thankies to Prof. Tim for throwing us (me) a lifeline! Deadline extension! *Prances around* That's the ONLY reason why I'm cutting slightly loose tonight - I thought I had to suffer the wretched fate of grappling with 4 deadlines every other Friday - I'm down to 2 at this point of time. So it's time to share how Julie turned the big fat 2-2.

I heart Four Leaves' cakes to eternity. Last year, they made me the most fantabulous 3kg Mango Tropicana for my 21st birthday celebration. This year, Mum got me Four Leaves' Yoghurt Frost - a.k.a guilt-free indulgence. Little wonder how Jack walloped 3 slices that night. The yoghurt cream was lightly scented with mango, and the apricot on the top was sweetened to the right degree. I'm craving for a slice right now.

Birthday with Jack is never the same.

By that I didn't mean he spent an insane amount of money bringing me to Universal Studios. In fact, we agreed upon the fact that it wasn't worth visiting it at this point of time, especially when the scariest rides are probably the spinning teacups and the burgers cost an arm and a leg in there. Instead, we revisited the Underwater World and spent our time at the Dolphin Lagoon watching the pink dolphins, laughing at the extremely grotesque-looking sea creatures, accompanying Jack while he did his 'field study', watching Gracie the Dugong babysit the fishes...

And I'm happy and thankful simply because you're with me - nothing else matters.

Ishiki may not be some high-end izakaya or ramen ten, but it's food decent enough to cure an itch for Japanese food. Oden was surprisingly good, although it could have been better if they had cabbage rolls, onsen eggs and konnyaku instead. Shall try and see if I can make some next week. :)

Many choose to celebrate their birthdays with a big bang - bouquets of flowers (cut from the bush and left to die a slow death in your hands while you oogle at how pretty they are), huge parties to get wasted at, hook up with a random stranger (and bring something extra home afterwards), bust the partner's wallet with an artery-clogging meal of pricey fat, buy yet another wallet/perfume for the birthday kid... I just want those whom I love with me on the very day, and nothing else matters anymore. Nothing else.

Toast to another year older, another year wiser.

Rant all you want, kids

It infuriates me when people speak like headless cockroaches. Like the author on Temasek Review who churned out a commentary based on the New York Times' interview with MM Lee, which was published in the Sunday Times today. What a fast writer, I thought, but full of BS. Apparently the TR article made references to the MM losing sleep over whatever reason, such that he has to meditate at night.

Seriously, do you think you know the MM enough to make such inferences?

The Temasek Review has been applauded for its dissent voices; its slogan "voicing dissent is not unpatriotic; it is our duty" says it all. But is there anyone there to draw a line between being objective and behaving like childish loud mouths? And worse, loud mouths with a habit of firing off on their keyboards, and yet keep mum and slog in their cubicles when their bosses yell at them? I read TR occasionally when it comes to issues that are worth the debate. But when I look at the comments trailing the articles, it's like arriving at an adult playground in cyberspace, complete with bullies and all. I won't boycott TR just as yet; I hope to see the day people wake up and realise that such verbal lambasting only adds to their thumb-sucking antics as self-gratifying kids that won't grow up.

Give anyone a computer, and they become kings in their own cyberworld. But in real life they're simply worms in their own holes.

Gurls and guys are lubs lubs

We drive each other crazy, laugh at really lame jokes, infect each other with the forgetful bug but, oh god, I love these people to death.

Thanks to my Gurlies for the early birthday meet-up this year! We had the hardest time coordinating, because 2 of us are still meeting insane deadlines in school while the other 2 are fighting for air in the workforce. The rarest phenomenon? Our 'lightbulbs', a.k.a boyfriends turned up in full force for the first time (well, Jane, you know we're still dying to fix you up, so there's no running away). Love you all. :)

How many primary school friendships get to meet their happily-ever-afters? Well, I think mine did.

Plus I love my Dream Team. Lubs lubs to Christine, Brandon and Jofid (even though you couldn't turn up) who, at the beep of my SMS, slogged through 3 hours with me. I used to convince myself that I'll never have any true friends in CNM. They proved me wrong.

You are the music in me

Did a series of crazy things all in a day; swam, watched High School Musical 2, went bowling, caught the worst movie in my life called Vampires Suck, bought sandals and hung out at Ya Kun chatting with my buddy-bestie-boyfriend. We seldom stuck to our plans so religiously, so today's worth a good pat on the back.

Boyfriend's been egging me to watch HSM 2 with him, after buying the entire collection at the Popular sale for $8. I had expressed my non-belief towards movie-musicals prior to HSM 3 (he was the one who brought me to the movie, and we liked it so much, we watched it twice), because taking musicals to the big screen just didn't seem to click with me. And it seems like he's right after all; HSM defines our generation, just like how Grease identifies with our parents' generation. And I've been loving HSM ever since then. :)

Just one of my favourites from HSM 2.

You are the Music in Me

Na na na na, na na na na, yeah
You are the music in me

You know the words Once Upon A Time
Make you listen, there's a reason
When you dream there's a chance you'll find
A little laughter or a happy ever after

Your harmony to the melody
It's echoing inside my head
A single voice (Single voice) above the noise
And like a common thread
Hmm, you're pulling me

When I hear my favorite song
I know that we belong
Oh, you are the music in me
Yeah it's living in all of us
And it's brought us here because
Because you are the music in me

Na na na na, na na na na na
Yeah yeah yeah (Na na na na)
You are the music in me

It's like I knew you before we met
Can't explain it
There's no name for it
I'm saying words I never said
And it was easy
Because you see the real me

As I am, you understand
And that's more than I've ever known
To hear your voice
Above the noise
And no, I'm not alone
Oh you're singing to me

When I hear my favorite song
I know that we belong
You are the music in me
It's living in all of us and it's brought us here because
You are the music in me

Together we're gonna sing
We got the power to sing what we feel
Connected and real
Can't keep it all inside

When I hear my favorite song
I know that we belong
You are the music in me
Yeah it's living in all of us
It's brought us here because

you are the music in me

Jack's 24

I love birthdays, especially when they 1. belong to the people I love and 2. I get to organize. :) Plus I love digging up secret foodie spots with comfort food and great ambience. It was Coffee Nations last year, so this year I brought Birthday Boy to The Garden Slug, a little diner tucked away in a small corner of Singapore. And because it was so tucked away, we had some trouble getting there. Haha. But all's well ends well.



For photographers, it's perfect hunting ground for food porn. For birthday boys, it's comfort food in boy-style portions.





The Garden Slug offers a good range of beers and ciders. Boyfriend Jack picked Hobgoblin to go with his half-slab of hickory babyback ribs, complete with mash and salad. Feels so good to watch him tuck into comfort food and smile that 'I'm conquered' smile. The poor boy's cough has been keeping him off sinful food.



The Garden Slug's food oozed generously of 'comfort', just like my pasta in cream sauce. Frankly speaking, I'm not a fan of cream sauce because of the queasy aftertaste I get everytime I force down a serving. But the people at the Slug didn't do it that way; the sauce was light, the sauteed veggies were ol' too good for a veggie lover and the springy fettucine, oh the fettucine, stole my gastronomical heart away.



Decided that, since we came all the way here, we should at least order their house specialty: Ugly Salmon Cakes. And I'm not kidding you; they're so ugly, my fork repelled them and they kept falling apart. BUT. But the salmon-and-mash combination was good, better than they look, although they were a tad salty. Were they supposed to be that salty?



Thanks to the Slug bunch, I got him the perfect birthday dessert: Apple Streusel with Vanilla Gelato, complete with candle and birthday tag. I remembered him returning from the washroom and commenting that he hoped the apple streusel the waitress was carrying wasn't his. Now was that supposed to be a good thing, or not? Oh well, good thing or not, he wolfed down every single bit. *happy*

Happy Birthday, today, tomorrow, forever and always. :)

Everything

《Everything》- 王力宏

故事里的起承转合有一些忘记 做了多少错误的选择
原来波折才暗示着该走的方向 指引你我来到这一刻

就算别人都说我们没什么出息 不可能会这样轻易放弃

Cause you're my everything

就一个原因让我勇敢面对这个世界
想给你everything
不管用多少个明天
永远从此刻开始算起
你的爱是我的everything

辽阔天际巧合相遇有多少机率 多少烟火坠落无痕迹
因为幸福没有捷径难免要绕道 不被看好越是要走到

就算别人都说我们没什么出息 不可能会这样轻易放弃

你就是everything
就这个原因让我勇敢面对这个世界

想給你everything
只要你说一声愿意
所有的未来才有意义

你的愛是我的everything

Cause you're my everything
就这个原因让我勇敢面对这个世界
想給你everything

不管用多少个明天
永远从此刻开始算起
你就是everything
就如这个原因我会永远记住这种感觉

想給你everything
只要你说一声愿意
所有的未来才有意义

你的愛是我的everything。

Bipolar

One of those bipolar days. (don't get me wrong I'm not.)


Days are good when you get paid - at least that works for me towards the end of the month. My mood peaks around the start and end of each month, and hits a low by the third week, just like the amount in my account. It's hard to get by when you're saving for so many things at once - it feels like I don't even have enough eggs to fill all the baskets I have. And this struggle with moolah will never cease, will it?

Lunch with Jack, however late it is, is never a bad thing. Who can resist a lunch date who would wait with a hungry stomach just to have lunch with you, even when it means just fishball noodles at 3pm? Plus I got some egg tarts for my granddads, Mum's favourite kaya cake and sis' favourite cheese tarts. Yes, I'm guilty for my sis' current, urm, state.

Oh yes, and if you have a heart strong enough to spare, feel free to watch a few episodes of Destination Truth on Youtube. Even the non-supernatural ones scared the crap out of me. Which means no more of that for me.

(Sidenote: I only reserve my time for people who are worth me spending time with. Some people, unfortunately, are at the bottom of my list. I'd rather work on my assignments or read James Patterson than to spend a single moment with them. Period.)

Less talk, more love

You do realise... that it's the 27th today?

*Big smile*

Happy 30th month, my huggy darling.

See you in 11 hours' time. I miss you already.

----

I had a really long talk with Aunt over dinner (3 hours, in fact) about everything that's going on in and out of the house, which made me realise how much I miss having a proper conversation with ANYONE in my extended family. Which is kind of sad. Everyone's basically missing family dinners, prayer sessions and drifting apart. I miss those boisterous Saturday dinners with loads of food, talk and wine. I miss those times we fought over the remote control. I miss watching Grandma shuffling around in the house and asking her dozen of grandchildren to tuck in. And I'm so afraid that such moments will continue to dwindle and disintergrate someday. The victim of a progressively successful country, I'm afraid, is the family.

Listen and roar

My sister baffles me to no end; doesn't she know a better troubleshooter than me? I find it hard to believe that she's can be so inept at solving even the smallest problems herself. If your computer crashes, kindly bring it to the technician. Do you have the slightest idea how much of a technical idiot I am? Do I look anything like a Dell technical services personnel to you? Or your printing solution? Or your NUS verbal map? Or someone you can conveniently take it out on when you're frustrated with technology? Do I look like Graham Bell? Or William Gibson? Wake up your idea.


We finally caught a YOG game after days of contemplation! By now, you should have heard about how people are complaining about sold-out games with empty seats. That explains why today's Men's diving preliminaries at Toa Payoh stadium could sell more tickets even after it has been declared that the tickets were sold out. SOLD OUT. Big fat words plastered outside the ticketing booth. 5 minutes after the first competitor hit the water, they opened more seats up for public sales. This is prolly one of the biggest sales disasters I've ever encountered.

And the students. Gosh, the students DO make alot of noise, don't they? But I wasn't prepared for the incessant din created by the running up and down of stairs and the yelling even though the commentator has issued the reminder repeatedly to "remain silent until the competitor has hit the water" in perfect Queen's English. I'm not questioning the decision to bring students in to hype up the atmosphere; wouldn't it be better if these seats could be taken up by people who can appreciate the sport and abide by the rules and display proper etiquette?

Anyway, it was an exhilarating experience to watch athletes from around the world put up a world-class performance of sportsmanship and professionalism despite their age. A pity I probably won't have the chance to catch another YOG event because of the clash with my timetable and tuition schedule; it's an experience of a lifetime.

Big RAH

... And I lapse into yet another night of deep melancholy.

I should be happy to live a warm and fulfilling life, and blessed to be swarmed by the love of those whom I treasure so much. I should thank my fate for allowing me a homestead so safe and secure, and free from calamities and major tragedies like that shoot-out drama in the Philippines yesterday. I should lay my blessings out on a huge table and count them in utter disbelief. I should chug my engines hard to fight for what I've always been materialising only in wisps of dreams.

... But I have no idea what the f**k I'm doing to myself.

Good night, you horrible nemesis.

Ultimate facepalms

I hate it when I get bombarded with questions people actually have answers to, or could have found the answers out themselves.

"Eh, what time are we supposed to go out tomorrow ah?"

"Eh, how much must we pay Big Aunt ah?"

"Eh, you know how to drive there meh?"
- How about you take your own transport there while I drive there. Saves your doubt in my ability.

"Eh, why you never wash the car?"
- In the first place, even our beloved domestic help doesn't wash the car. Plus I remember that I'm just the chauffeur, your chauffeur. Then you'll come and argue that I'm the one driving so I should also be the one who should upkeep the car. Then you know what?


I'd rather cut up my driving license, if that can shut you up.