Saturday, October 30, 2004

50 days: Irate Savant

He calls his blog the Bitter Reflections of an Undiscovered Genius. I think that kinda puts everything into perspective, doesn't it? (Yes it's a he. Who said women were more capable of whining?)

Anyone in the mood for a lot of angst and griping and verbal diarrhoea will want to take a trip to his blog:

Not too sure i'm publicising his blog. It's an interesting read, of course, and he knows that. I suppose such unabashed displays of self-indulgent anger are hard to come by these days, in a society that preaches understanding along to the tune of "its a small world after all".

He's likely to take pride in his elitist ways, but I may be too quick to judge. He's awfully good at that though - judging. But I suppose people read it for the tragic element. It's a singapore thing - we can't stand seeing resources go to waste.

Sure you're smart, but are you happy? But he says happiness belongs to the ignorant, which he isn't. I think he has to redefine his definition of ignorance. Intellectual knowledge is not quite enough in most cases. But I guess his goal in life is the former, happiness was told to take a hike somewhere along the way and Bitterness slid onto the seat next to him.

Go on and read it!

50 days: Kissing a Fool

I'm blown away by George Michael. It's amazing. Never really listened through a collection of his songs, but... oh man.. woah.

How much more romantic can you get?

But remember this,
Every other kiss,
That you ever give
Long as we both live
When you need the hand of another man,
One you really can surrender with,
I will wait for you,
Like I always do,
There's something there,
That can't compare with any other,

Guess what. I'm in the Chron room again. Although I think this is likely to be the last time I have to stay here overnight, I have realised by now that there is a mysterious power of the Chron room that always makes me end up there again against my own will.

Talking about the topic of having crushes with two friends just now made me think about my own "crush history".

I have a terrible history. I have a reputation amongst my close friends, and i suppose now anyone reading this, for developing crushes as easy as breathing.

Ok, maybe I exaggerate, but I certainly seem to have very low standards for having crushes. Obviously, this is what my friends say. I don't think I've low standards, just different tastes that's all, and the fact that i'm not too demanding.

My emotions are fragile, I change my mind quickly. But the thing that i think attracted me most was this unexplainable internal quality of character. Of course, I had my frivolous crushes on the so called "cute" guys, those crushes were entertainment at best. Everyone knew it was a joke. And then, there were those which made me fall into some semblance of depression.

I don't think I'm capable of doing the same thing again. It was just emotional immaturity on my part. The only reason why I can talk about it is because I know it'll never happen again.

This is why i'm so sceptical of infatuations. It's easy to spot. The person having the infatuation does not know the object of his infatuation. Knowing doesn't mean being acquainted, a few verbal exchanges are not enough to know a person, and we all know that. Most of the time though, you can tell when you ask the person "why do you like him/her" and they say "i don't know, i just do".

I'm sceptical because i've had so many, and they all end terribly. Terrible not because they found out, or because my friends made a fool of me. Because I find out I've been wasting my energy and time on someone who wasn't what i thought he was. They always end up less than what I thought they were, substandard, an inferior duplicate of the person I thought I'd like.

People can be so deceiving. Guiqing and I came to the conclusion, that it's only a matter of time that the "promising guy" reveals his terrible flaw. And it's true. Not a single male that we have thought as having "potential" have ever lived up to that. Well, Cenite did, unless you count his sexuality. But it doesn't matter to us, as I think everyone knows haha.

Why am I typing this at 5 am in the morning? I don't know.

It's all George's fault. Listening to his song made me weepy whiny wishy washy emotionally vulnerable etc.

Sigh, but who can blame me? Just to reemphased my point

But remember this,
Every other kiss,
That you ever give
Long as we both live
When you need the hand of another man,
One you really can surrender with,
I will wait for you,
Like I always do,
There's something there,
That can't compare with any other.

I think it's the concept of surrendering entirely that cuts me. The lyrics could not be more perfect, seriously. Surrending only happens when you have complete trust, complete love, you cast aside your female pride and ego (which i have too much of), you fall into the typecasted role of a woman because you have given up yourself completely. It is because I know how difficult it is to do this, how rare it is to ever find someone you will want to surrender to. And the word "man". It's so common, simple, and yet it has so many connotations. You know they say, a good man is hard to come by? It's not true, it should be "a man is hard to come by". There are jerks, idiots, boys, dudes, guys and then, men. Its a person who's everything rolled into one, someone who knows what he wants in life, knows who he is, knows his flaws and strengths, someone not afraid to apologise, someone understanding, loving and kind, respects you, someone with ego and pride, someone who is not afraid to stand up for what he believes in.

I can't believe the number of cliches I just typed out. Doesn't matter, it's all true, that's how they became cliches.

And on we go with the random train of thoughts.

Thursday, October 28, 2004

52 days: The Beautiful People wants to be Close To You

A curtain of blue threatens to break across the sky just as the last strands of starlight whimpers away....


According to Mr Mac, it is 6.47am. I just spent a night's worth of 311, Marilyn Manson and the Carpenters (hence the hybrid title) with Guiqing in the room which has seen too much of us at our worst - the Chron room.

Ah well. Guiqing looks like she's going to collaspe at any moment. But i feel fine. Perky even.

Which brings me to my next point - Shark Extra is WAY better than Red Bull. Serious! Taste better too.

Which makes me wonder, who would win in a fight? The Shark or the Bull? Hmmmmmmmm. Its a bit difficult to reconcile the two animals, I know.

RecommendedConsumption of the Shark Extra drink is 2 CANS A DAY. Wow. Its as if it knew.

And i'm wondering, in a fight, who would win? Marilyn Manson or the Carpenters? Hmmmmmmm the anorexic woman won't be of much help, unless she has nails. But then again Manson don't exactly look like Mr. Fitness either.... plus he's missing that rib. Ah whatever. But I think a Manson-Carpenter act would be just ROCKIN' man.

Wow. Shark Extra is really damn good! Look at how irritatingly incoherant and perky I am! I am inclined to use even more exclaimation marks!!!!!!!! Plus drank it like four hours ago. I wonder if its the "nicotinamide". Means if I smoke now... i'll just jump all over the place?

Tuesday, October 26, 2004


I am not joking, exaggerating or whining when I say I have never been so exhausted in my life.


Somebody help me.

54 days: Revelation is Revolution

Haven't managed to finish Jack Kerouac's On the Road.. sorry Zoe... maybe i shld get the hard-cover version with like a font size twice as big as the one i've got now... but at any rate, the quote still makes sense, with or without a distinguishable plot.

But in response to someone else's musings on the ego-fying of society and its individuals today, I felt like reverting back to this phrase that, time and time again, makes itself relevant in countless of different situations:

"We have come to think of taking offence as a fundamental right.
We value very little more highly than our rage, which gives us,
in our opinion, the moral high ground. From this high ground
we can shoot down at our enemies and inflict heavy fatalities." - Rushdie

Yes, yes that quote AGAIN. Every day, the forum pages of the ST reminds me of this damn quote. The last letters I read were on Sunday, with pple actually taking time to sit down, start the computer, log on/register to the ST webpage, type out what seems to be roughly 15 mins worth of thought, volunteer their private information, just t provide a twocentsworth (and yes, it doesn't get any more valuable than that) on what?


Or, more specifically, choosy beggars. Or, to include their point, what is the WORLD coming to when beggars are rude and vulgar to you and don't want your 5 cent coins? I don't know who to be more ashamed of, the writer or the ST for publishing this sorry excuse of a letter. What an UTTER waste of print space. Why can't they print Darren's letters which in my humble unbiased opinion, raises more pressing and controversial issues?

Hello? If you spend your life having to put yourself down and humiliate yourself by asking complete strangers for whatever coins they happen to feel like throwing down at you, if you have no where decent to sleep (some pple don't understand that bed and bedsheets are a luxury), if a food court $3 price tag is considered to steep.... i'd be one cranky motherfucker too man.

But that's not the point, the point is, Singaporeans expect way too much from each other. I can't believe my fellow singaporeans spit/allow their kids to pee in sink/talk loudly in cinema/have irritating ringtones on MRT !!!! This is a disgrace to my society!

You see how the perfectionist syndrome of the Lees have been transferred to us????

I mean, it's fine to gripe and complain. These are, after all, rather ugly sides of singapore which we could do without. But the manner of complaining infers a assumption that we have an innate right NOT to have to put up with these sides of Singapore. That they are the deviant, the abnormal, the sores that have been mysteriously imposed on our society by some alien force... they are NOT supposed to be here! What are they doing here?

Eh salah lah. We will have our freaks, our Quasimodos, our MJs of society... please stop talking about them as if you have a right to order them to disappear. They are PART of society. I can't help but think sometimes that these people would be very pleased with a Stepford-ish town. I propose Bukit Panjang. It already seems damn sterile to me, during my last visit there.

I am exhausted. But I am trying not to sleep. Because when I do, i won't awake till like 2pm tomorrow. Tonight, i shall:

1. look through 301
2. decide on 311


Sunday, October 24, 2004

56 days: Flights of Fancy

Birds are regaining my interest. Sparrows, mynahs, crows.... I'm increasingly amused by their countless antics.

I do have a certain sense of wariness about pigeons though. Maybe it's because they seem stupid. You know how they say stupid people are the most dangerous kind of people? Something along those lines.... its the seagulls in Finding Nemo... that same sense of doom when little brains are gathered together... This is quite an interesting concept... hmm....

Haha a quick google search on "stupid" + "dangerous" + "people" turns up this website:

The Basic Laws of Human Stupidity

Always and inevitably everyone underestimates the number of stupid individuals in circulation.

The probability that a certain person be stupid is independent of any other characteristic of that person.

A stupid person is a person who causes losses to another person or to a group of persons while himself deriving no gain and even possibly incurring losses.

Non-stupid people always underestimate the damaging power of stupid individuals. In particular non-stupid people constantly forget that at all times and places and under any circumstances to deal and/or associate with stupid people always turns out to be a costly mistake.

<>A stupid person is the most dangerous type of person.
The corollary of the Law is that:
A stupid person is more dangerous than a bandit.

My god. It's actually a freakin' THESIS on the topic... with diagrams and all. Apparently done by a professor at UC Berkelely...

316 is getting to be very demoralising. I love the readings, I love the course, but goddamit this is the toughest module i've EVER taken. it does NOT help that I cannot differentiate between GEs and PEs.

Saturday, October 23, 2004

57 days: You Let Me Desecrate You

Till today, I still don't quite get this song.

You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you
you let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you
help me I broke apart my insides, help me I’ve got no soul to sell
help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself
I want to fuck you like an animal
I want to feel you from the inside
I want to fuck you like an animal
my whole existence is flawed
you get me closer to god
you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings
you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything
help me tear down my reason, help me its' your sex I can smell
help me you make me perfect, help me become somebody else
through every forest, above the trees
within my stomach, scraped off my knees
I drink the honey inside your hive
you are the reason I stay alive

Just because Trent Reznor did doesn't make it great OK? Er ok I do think that it's a great song, but if you don't hear it and only read the lyrics... it's damn whiny lah. And hey! Almost passes off as lyrics from Linkin Puck.

Had a very unproductive day. I tried, but it's not working out. 316 is sapping too much of my brain matter, it takes way too much effort to understand the notes. And it's only my GE. Wah lau. What's the economics term for it.... something about marginal utility. watever. I don't know how the hell I got my A for econs. I think I'm good a temporary retention only. Meaning in 20 years, i'll be right back where I started. Hahah that's a hilarious thought.


December is my favourite month. Yes, I'm biased cos that's my birthmonth, but it has so many nice connotations. Christmas, holidays, sales, relaxation, holidays, holidays, holidays. It even sounds the nicest out of all the months. Dee-sem-ber. Mmmmmmmmmm


Being very random. Trying to talk so much till I'm tired so i'll get back to work.

It was not nice being stuck in school today because of the rain. Maybe Pong is still there. If so, poor Pong.

It's also not very nice to see your account balance hit single digit. Nope. Not nice at all. That stupid number was MOCKING ME.

It's also not very nice to have someone finish two project outlines in front of me while I struggle with my essay. Sorry Joo, honesty is the best policy right? It's not your fault, (DUH). And i'm not directing the "not nice-ness" to you.


Ok. I don't know if i've said this before.. but what do u treasure most in a hostel room? Some say privacy, some say the right to play music, some say the sanctity of keeping food you bought for yourself.

For me, it's AIR.

Ya that's what i need the most. fuck the bugs and the cold, i wanna open the door and raise the blinds and slide open the grilles. I need my FLOWING fresh air.

Which is why i'm duly puzzled by my roommate's who seems to lack a need of air. I'm puzzled, but hiyah, to each her own. Guess she gets cold easily.

But it's strange to want your room so stuffy.... Came back today and the door closed (and locked) and fan off and blinds down... and outside the air was so nice and fresh... and inside.. well an entirely different story.

I don't mind it lah, i'm accomodating because i know i have my idiosyncrasies as well... like sleeping late....

But i DON'T GET IT at all!

Fan speed now is 3. I feel the stuffiness. She just fell asleep, hope she doesn't mind if i open the windows and door now

ok enough inane thoughts

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

60 days: There's nothing left to be desired

No that's not true. I don't know whether my list of desires will end, but it certainly still exists now. Anyway, that's just a line from the song currently haunting me... actually it's just the voice of K D Lang.... yes... not the Hollies version.

I just realised this is the freakin' third blog I've had "today". My day doesn't end still I sleep, so don't get technical with me.

But I was just thinking of xiaxue's blog, and I think if anyone wants to talk about the freedom of speech... they should visit her site. I started out thinking she was quite repulsive, but her blog persona at least, is honest. For all her rantings about her beauty, she does unabashedly show before and after photoshop photos... i don't know why she does that, but it's interesting to me.

I overheard something in a conversation in the room next door, which made me think of stuff.

I know it's not good to hate. You don't hate things unless you'd kill it if given a choice, so I can safely say that, ya, this one is on my list of "HATE" alongside pedophiles (at least, those that don't seek treatment).

The thing i hate isn't so much a thing, but a sentence. A sentence articulated with impatience and accompanied by a face etched with scorn.

"What's wrong with you?"

What the FUCK. Typing it makes my blood boil. I hate it because it's been used on me once too often by various people. The automatic response in my head now whenever I hear it is:

"Nothing. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. Me."

Maybe I'm over-reacting. But few other things make me react this way. If you really think about it, it has a lot of implications. It's not as straight-forward as it seems. But then again, I'm sensitive, so you might just want to label me psycho and move on.

Maybe it's the articulation of my worst fears. That there is indeed something very wrong with me. Maybe it's denial. I don't know. Maybe it's because whenever somebody uses that line on me, it's in the midst of an argument, and I guess I don't like it when you're pushing all the blame to me by saying that this is happening because i'm a defective piece of equipment. It's dismissive and demeaning.

And I just realised that I use that on people too. Well, to all the people I've used the line on, i'm truely very sorry. I wasn't thinking.


Something in Kundera's The Book of Laughter and Forgetting, if i remember correctly anyway, said something about an old man having an affair with his young student.

It said something about how she couldn't understand him, because the music of his life has already been composed. He is playing his own tune, and she is listening in, but not comprehending because she doesn't know how the music was written.

Then Kundera talks about the person who "grew up" with this man. He had composed the music of his life with her, and their notes blended together because they co-wrote it.

And it just makes me think, that when do we become complete? A neatly packaged box that can never be changed, that it's a case of either you get it, or you don't. No compromise, no change. And I feel sorry for his young student, because she's listening so earnestly, but he is not explaning the music to her.

And I wonder, if we attach symbols, or musical notes, to each person we have a relationship with. And that symbol becomes forever attached to that person. It can no longer be used for anyone else, even if you wish it weren't that way.

And I wonder, what happens when you run out of symbols? When the last page of your life has been written, and there is no space for anything else? What happens then? It all has to end sometime.

61 days: Got meh?

No thanks to GUIQING who reminded me about it today by raising it in a conversation, I revisited Xiaxue's website.... And wah lau eh it's damn ADDICITIVE. Managed to refrain from clicking the "next" button to read the stuff which I missed out on...

Don't know what is it about her website that keeps me there. It's not particularly intellectual... she's not that interesting if you think about it... but I guess her self indulgence makes for excellent entertainment.

Today's Straits Times bothered me.

No, not the layout. Not Theresa Tan staring at me from the front page... it was the article she wrote.... on a guy finding a bride in four hours.

Wonder if I'm in their shoes... would I sell myself in four hours? And for how much? With what terms and conditions? How much will I be worth? Would I even sell myself that way?

"Hallo Sir! I cook you good food Sir! I rub foot for you everyday after you work. Sir, I make good wife!"

With women like that, and bitches like me, it's no wonder men are fleeing to find "good wife".

I should flee too to find good husband. But that means I've to land a good job to support both of us.

"Hello Ma'am! I cook you good food Ma'am! I rub foot for you everyday after you work! MA'am I make good husband."

Cannot make it lah (although it sounds appealing for a short-term thing), I have already realised by now that the number one thing about men that I cannot do without is (not looks, not culinary skills, not ambition) but good conversation. He'll drive me crazy with all his "ma'ams".

Think I was quite unpleasant to someone in school today. Felt bad, as usual, after that, because I know the person didn't mean it. But rudeness begets rudeness, so for once, I'm not going to apologise.

Yet I know some people who really won't get mad at anyone for any reason. They either give them the benefit of the doubt, forgive them, or just become gandhi-like. I mean, even the dalai lama say he'll cane his kids. Which is a worrying thing. But I digress. I really don't know how these people are so blessed with such a peaceful heart and mind... I can't control my sense of irritation or anger very well if I'm in a bad mood.. if i'm in a good mood nothing will bother me at all.. but it seemslike some people don't get bothered eitherways...

I have this vision of these people attending theraphy for all the pent up anger they store inside them. Maybe gandhi was so peaceful only because he wasn't eating and thus have no energy to get mad at anyone.

Hiyah i'm so nonsensical.

61 days: Butterfly Wings on Crackers

Read in a magazine that Salvador Dali served Mia Farrow a meal of butterfly wings on biscuits. There's just something very poignant about that example that makes me remember it.

Been feeling very emotionally stretched recently, even though pressure from work has died down a little bit. But I guess pms is catching up with me, and that I've read some things which were better left un-read.

Something that my ex used to challenge me with "Why the hell must you always be different from other people?"

I don't know.

Monday, October 18, 2004

62 days: The Fine Operation of Procrastinationat 0435 hrs

Because I want to prove to everybody what a fantastic procrastinator I am, and how I have so totally no discipline in the wee hours of the morning, I recounted my count down to Drik.

It's not 77 days, it's now 62 days, assuming I leave two weeks before the New Year.

Anywa, what the hell is "wee hours" anyway, who's the sad lame ass who came up with that sad lame line and HOW did he even come up with it? Yes, yes, I'm being anti female equality I'm assuming a guy coined the term because which gender is more likely to use the word "wee"??? The same gender that came up with like 56,738 variations of the word "vagina".

Wah lau what's wrong with me man.

Anyway, I keep hearing this weird noise in my room. Except that I'm quite deaf, so I don't know if it's even in my room or which part of the room.

Eh, stopped already. It better not be an insect. Cos it's probably a DAMN big insect and I don't want to have the cockroachcrawlingovermyforehead encounter repeated. That happened a long time ago anyway, but I STILL REMEMBER IT. Wouldn't you?

Question, question. Would you rather:
1. Eat 10 live slugs.
2. Transfer bigass cockroaches (live) with your mouth? Like about 5 or 6 at a time, and have them try running down your throat, and biting your tongue.

Tough, tough. Fear factor was a topic of discussion at dinner. Erm ya I know, weird timing.

Sunday, October 17, 2004

77 days: Offsprung

Just had a nice dinner with my family. They borrowed my uncle's car and drove all the way down to have "Tze Char" dinner with me. It was the most food we'd EVER ordered... think it's cos we're all hungry.

1. fish-head curry
2. hotplate tofu
3. venison
4. cereal prawns
5. sambal kangkong

Mmmmmmmmm. Its nice, it's what we always order, sans number 1, 3 and 4. Those were extravagant.

And my mom's birthday is in three days, October 20th. In tribute of that:

Mom looking very please with herself after her second marathon I think 2 years back. I only arrived in time to take photos of her at the finishing line.... I think I posted this up at Xanga before.. but what the heck. It's my favourite photo of her, because she looks young and invincible. She was 47 then.

And because the two of them have been married for 24 years, and together for 32 years, I thought I'd include my Dad's photo as well.

Otherwise also known as "Pa", my dad is 50 this year. He's retiring soon. That's my cousin Reuben, much smaller than what he is now. My dad adores him, as I think is evident from the photo.

Ok, back to work.

77 days: Pachelbel, Pachelbel, Pachelbel

Every once in a while comes along a song that you want to describe as soul-lifting. Except that in this case, to call it a song would actually be degrading it.

It's the world's favourite wedding song I think, and I first heard it when my brother was practicing it on his violin.

Johann Pachelbel (1653-1706), German Baroque composer and organist, wrote Canon in D - what I will safely and confidently call the most beautiful song I have ever, and probably forever, heard.

It's kinda cheesy if you keep thinking about how its so popular, but this is one case whereby popularity and common-ness doesn't ruin it for me.

Three violins and one cello, building you to a blending crescendo of emotion, teasing you, drawing you in, it makes you want to drown, close your eyes, hold and suspend yourself above it all, all those things I don't even know how else to describe it.

Just go download it lah.

Friday, October 15, 2004

78 days: In one of those moods

Just thinking about stuff today, as usual I think I think too much....

But was just feeling very scared about next year... about being so far away and all. This isn't the first time I thought about it this way, but it hit me a bit harder than usual for some reason.

I almost wept openly today when I was talking to my cousin who visited me in school today. He just happened to be around, so dropped by for a little chat. I was asking him about our little cousins, Reuben, who's 4, and Reagan, who's 2.

He was just filling me in about how much naughtier they are now, and he was telling me how Reuben can actually log on to the internet, go to and look for his favourite website.

"I'm not kidding! He can type in, then search for Bob the Builder, and click and then play the games!"

For some reason or other, I just really felt like crying.

It's not because I'm sad, it's because I just miss them so much.

This is just like the other time two sems ago when I cried at Clementi bus interchange because I saw a bus that would take me straight home.

I must admit it doesn't really take a lot for me to cry, but I guess I'm worried that I'll really be so homesick that I'll cry too much in Bangladesh.

Of course, right now actually I do think that i can take it. But there's a little nagging doubt that I won't be able to.

HIYAH. I can lah!

So I called my mom, who was telling me a story about how my dad attended the wrong class for three days in a row without anyone realising.

It's funny actually. He's a policeman, and they have these upgrading course for them. 3 days ago, my dad smsed me to tell me "eh ur pa is in a class for CREATIVE THINKING"

And I was just wondering why the hell they'd send a guy about to retire in 2 months to that kind of class.

And today I found out that my dad's boss had called him sounding pissed "hock lay! you attended the wrong class!"

My mom was telling me how my dad, as part of the course, had to draw a Batman kinda mask on his face and go out to the CBD area for lunch with his fellow coursemates, Spiderman and Weirdo.

I just feel so happy listening to all this. Sometimes, I question family. I would think that I dislike the notion of being obliged and "tied" to something which I had not chosen to be "tied" to. It's an element of burden and unvolunteered obligation that I had issues with.

But my head cannot deceive my heart.

79 days: If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad.

Chronicle offstone/production night is something which people either speak about with the fear that you get when you're unfamiliar with a subject, or with tragically resigned resignition.

This will probably be my very last one, I haven't had many I suppose, compared to some others in the team.

But this is something you never get used to. Every production night is different. Some are better than others, some makes you wish you never joined chron. Some have you and your friends dancing to music streaming in one of the many Apple computers. Others have you slouched over the table, head throbbing, while you wished they would just stop playing those damn chinese love songs.

Tonight is a different night. My head is throbbing, it hurts like hell, but I don't feel it. There's no Swee to dance with me, no Ah Teo to do the Chinaman song, no rendition of Eminem's rap, no ice-cold Ribena sitting in the fridge. No Gillian crouched in front of the screen, plugged into her own world, Sampronas by her side. No promise of a McDonald's breakfast when dawn breaks.

When I think about it like this, I look around the room and I realise that this is an entirely new room from what I first saw when I had my first all-nighter in this room that blows hot and cold, that can break even the most happy of moods.

This is a different team, we are so different from the previous one, and I believe the one after this will do no different.

I don't quite know where I'm heading with this, but as it is when a phase of your life comes to a close, you sit back and take a good long look.

Remember Dot's face when she comes in Fridays, smelling and looking all clean and fresh and we stare at her with our grubby faces and look for some guidance. Remember the stories that got spiked, and the ones that didn't.

Remember watching American Idol, and then the Singaporean version, irritating the whole room (maybe just alvin haha) but still glued to it anyway.

Remember PH's volatility, who made all of us learn a lesson in protocol: Yes, even in school you cannot escape bureacracy. Remember the stand-offs, the cold wars, the spiteful words, the hurtful comments, the unintended sarcasm, the pats-on-the-backs, the many many packets of duck rice and cans of Carlsberg Special Brew.

Remember all the mornings when I felt the morning air hit my face with such a spiritual force that I could literally feel a new day dawning upon me. Remember the feeling of crawling into bed just as my roommate gathers her toothbrush and toothpaste. Remember the many mental battles I had in my head on whether going to class tired and sleepy was equivalent to not going at all. Remember showing up on Friday afternoon in the room only to feel irritated that dammit it's all still not over. Remember the feelings of symphathy, and of course guilt, when i call Alvin or Lester on Friday night and find out they had just left the room.

But most of all, I will remember the mornings after. That slice of time between the room and my room, when I feel as if the whole world is still asleep, even the birds, and i have all the breeze in the world to enjoy by myself.

I don't think I will miss off-stone night, but something tells me I won't forget it for quite a while.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

80 days: Excuses, Secuses

The monster, which some will term as being evil, called PMS, have snuck up on me and now inhabits a corner of my brain, burying its long, tethering proboscis into my soft brain matter.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

81 days: Kitty Kats

It's 4 am and as of today I spotted FOUR cats! Yessiree that's more than enough to make my day.

I had a nice talk, well it was nice to me anyway, with someone I haven't spoken to in quite a while, and I really cannot describe how I feel... (but its positive lah). But it did make me think about myself a bit more... something I haven't done properly in quite a while.

Guiqing has pointed it out to me many times, maybe she doesn't realise it, but she has - how I constantly say one thing and do another. Or how I am too quick to judge people for mistakes which I make myself.

It's quite upsetting to me sometimes, being the pot is way worse than being the kettle, if you know what I mean.

What makes it worse is that I really don't like it when others contradict themselves also!

It's all a bit confusing, because I believe that I always mean what I say. But I realise that maybe it's because I say what I would like to believe. My ideal self speaks, but my flawed self carries out the action that contradicts it.

But then again, it's really wishful thinking for me to be able to be so consistant because that's not what humans are renown for.

Its tiring sometimes, trying to change yourself for the better when it seems almost as if that's the way I'm meant to be.

But where's the hope in life if you're resigned to what you are now? That's depressing.

As an additional note, to all those out there pissed/upset/irritated/put off at me, you will find your honesty towards me responded to with appreciation and thanks. (unless of course you're wrong and being a real bitch).

Because I'm so damn bloody sensitive, it is DAMN OBVIOUS to me when someone's attitude towards me has changed.

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

82 days: Out of Sorts

Weird things have been happening recently. I'm not too sure if my pms is starting, or my sensitivity mode is going into overdrive or what, but I just get the sense that a lot of people are pissed at me.

It's the looks I get sometimes when I go to school, some people who I used to think I got along with fine have somehow put on a veneer of steel between me and them. It's transparent, it's thin, but it's there, and I feel it. Smiles are forced, conversations seem scripted, and I'm just standing there wondering what on earth did I do to make them unhappy or upset with me.

I have a very bad feeling that I'm never going to find out unless I ask. Maybe the truth is they misunderstood me, maybe they didn't. Maybe I really did something wrong which I wasn't aware off, and that's the worst. Because right now I feel my conscience is clear, but that's only because I think I know everything... I might've done something I forgot about.

It's quite sad really, and I feel like asking them what's wrong. I try to be friendly and all, but nothing has changed.

What on earth did I do? Why can't they tell me?

I appreciated it when someone came to tell me off after I did something to piss her off. Don't pretend to be ok with me when it's not. Just tell me, let me explain, perhaps forgive me, so we can move on.

Because I never mean to do a lot of the things I do which hurt people, and as you all know, it's only during the aftermath that you regret, not before.

And I just get this sense of immense misunderstanding and prejudice and stereotyping flying all around the school. I think the whole PI situation aggravated it greatly.

While I'm not about to detail what I think is going on, I do think that some people have very rashly jumped to certain false conclusions.

Somebody mentioned to me before that she felt a whole lot of competitiveness flying around the school, especially in the journ division. While I do agree that the journ division seem to have by far the most ambitious people, I disagree with that definition of "competitivenss"

When people use that word, they imply some sense that others are trying to up one on you, trying to gain the upper hand over you - in other words it's taken to be a very personal threat.

But it's not like that at all, everyone's just doing their own thing. Some are better than others, but is that their fault? I seriously don't believe anybody is trying deliberately hard just so as to be BETTER than other people.

So to me, there is competition, but competition in the sense of may the best man win, not dammit that man is trying to be better than me and I better not let him.

But some people differ, it's their loss.

82 days: Where are the Birds?

In an attempt to get friendly with the members of the class Aves, maybe they can protect me from anymore slithery lizards, I thought i'd scatter crumbs outside my window.

Hahaahaha "The sapiens of the homo class would like to get acquainted with the aves"

Ok that's my own joke.

Anyway, they're not eating, and that makes me sad. I do kinda want sparrows on my window sill, so I can be like The Little Princess.

"She mounted her table and stood looking out. It was a wonderful moment. There were floods of molten gold covering the west, as if a glorious tide was sweeping over the world. A deep, rich yellow light filled the air; the birds flying across the tops of the houses showed quite black against it.

"It's a Splendid one," said Sara, softly, to herself. "It makes me feel almost afraid--as if something strange was just going to happen. The Splendid ones always make me feel like that."

I officially have 5 hrs and 20 mins to finish my lit essay.

Monday, October 11, 2004

83 days: Reptilian Repulsivness

I could've also titled this as:

1. Hall-living horror stories
2. What NOT to do over the weekend
3. Surprising Slithering
4. Jess's Top 10 Worst Shrieks

Went back to hall today, after not being there over the weekend. Everything was as per normal. I did laundry. I washed up. I changed my bed sheets. I washed my cup. Then, I had to go and refill my water jug.

My water "jug" is really a makeshift jug for Fosters beer, made of rather study blue plastic. It has a lid with a little nozzle of sorts for the water.

I went to the third floor's water cooler, and DAMMIT when I poured out the old weater (about half full) , TWO FUCKING LIZARDS SILD OUT AS WELL!!!!


Ok that was in caps cos i was kinda in that kind of "capital" mood.

But anyway, I was first quite freaked out, cos I was standing very near the cooler, and they could've just leapt onto me.

Then I was damn grossed out, and a girl passing by said, rather amuses, "I hope you haven't drunk any water today."

Wah damn fucking right I didn't man.

I don't know what they were doing inside. Anyway, they proceeded to just jump off the cooler and disappeared under the utility room door.

I washed my jug like 10,000 times.


I've no idea what they're doing inside. Maybe they got in but couldn't get out. But go inside FOR WHAT??????
STUPID lizards.

The lizard in my hall 9 room was much nicer and smarter. It just stayed under the fridge, helping us eat flies.


On a brighter and lighter note, I bought THIS:

For just $6.90 summore. haha

Director of Trainspotting plus author of the Beach. Killer.

Friday, October 08, 2004

88 days: Tribune Tribute

Have you all seen the NTU tribune yet? Looks like the demon child of Chronicle.

They're trying to look more newspaperish, using KHL summore but that doesn't really rescue them from the depths of journalism hell.

I really wasn't kidding when I said that the tribune was useful at the lunch with Guaning. I really meant it when I said its size did a good job of lining my floors and draweres.


Headline: Saturdays: Procreations...err, Recreation Day?

Yes, yes, it's painful to read. Cover page summore. Even Ngee Ann's publication is better. Sigh.

And also, the blurbs.... I can imagine Alvin poking his eyes out just not to see it.

Excerpt from coverpage article:

"A few students have been interviewed regarding this topic and their response?
5-day week rulz (it means 'rules' in hip hop lingo)!"

I rest my case.


Wednesday, October 06, 2004

89 days: Rumsfailed

Just when you develope this overwhelming sense of tragedy for the Americans, you come across something that makes you cheer for the blues and whites again.

The beauty of America on its highways:

It's just a website called FREEWAY BLOGGER that encourages people to exercise the First Amendment on the roads by putting up signboards.

"When you put a sign on the highway, people will read it until someone takes it down."

Also, head to for more

Some of the best includes:
"Nobody died when Clinton lied"
"If we went after Bin Laden like we did Bill Clinton he'd be dead by now"
"This is the only sign you will see today that was not made by a corporation"
"War is good for the economy. Like cannibalism is nutritious"
"Somewhere in Texas, a village is missing its idiot"
"Memo to Bush: You're fired"
"WMD: 0"
"Hooray! We got the wrong guy"

Shamelessly lifted from Mr Brown's website.


But the freeway blog thing is something which I've been fantasising about for a long time. Not limited to freeways of course...

Imagine signs hung across the bridge between Canteen A and NIE... how many students will see it at rush hour before someone catches on?

Or posters plastered everywhere in the dead of the night.

Or a huge banner unfurled as the morning rush crowd enters Shenton Way.

Of course, it's nearly impossible. We've 24 hr security guards almost everywhere.

What would you write if you could do the same here as in California?

NTU has no campus life
Uniquely PAP
Ah Loong's wife was murdered
Quit hanging people
Sit, Stay, Obey
Our founding father looks like our Zoo's mascot
The PAP wants you to get a life
Guaning is a lackey
Send JBJ to a decent nursing home
The Chronicle does NOT hate the NTUSU
Please don't hate us China
Please don't hate us Taiwan
It takes 39 years to rid a country of its happiness
Singapore: US's 51st state

Haha ok. I think I'm only amusing myself. Just joking hor.


The bad thing about this blogsite is that you can't protect your entries. I'm going to be a blogslut, and use Xanga and Blogspot at the same time.

90 days: Don't hold yourself like that

I'm still on a Damien Rice craze. Seriously, I'm driving myself a little crazy with his songs, but it's addictive.

Not too sure whether to wake Shireen up. She fell asleep, her light is on, and erm... I just want to know if she INTENDED to sleep because if she DIDN'T then I wanna play some music. No points for guessing what song.

The gorgeous girl is Lisa Hannigan. Who sounds even better than she looks. Sigh some people are born talented.

Just went to check out who the hell Richard Avedon is. I think that book I borrowed from the library on 20th Century Photography kinda gave me a skewed view on who's famous and who's not. They left out so many people!!

Anyway, this is my favourite pic from his collection at

Sheikh Saud Al-Thani of Qatar

I call it a "What the Fuck" photo, because when you first see it, you go "What the fuck!!?"

Seriously lah, what the fuck!!!??? I'm speechless.

Since we're on the topic of photos... I went to find a few more of my favourites...

Bert Hardy's Gorbals Boys

Helmut Newton for French Vogue
The original, without the text, is even more compelling. Couldn't find any other version online...

Nick Knight's Smoking Susie

Erm ok, I'm kinda drawn to all the commercial photos...

Eugene Smith's Country Doctor.
I think he's one of Shyam's favourites... and I think the guy looks like Jude Law, and that the pic looks like a movie still (but its not lah)

Back to work.

Friday, October 01, 2004

94 days: Blood Milk and Shy

It's a Friday night, and I'm determined to do so much work till I want to throw up.

Just watched a couple of episodes of WLIIA.... Man, that Chip is damn cute! It's quite strange, I've never particularly been attracted to that kinda physique haha not really into the broad shoulders sort... but man... Chip! Mmmmmmmmmmmm Plus he's funny too. And Married.

Now, I'll do work.

Don't know why I did it, to stress myself out maybe, but here are the stuff coming up for me.

Tonight: 311 article
Oct 11: Lit Essay
Oct 11: 316 presentation
Oct 15: 311 article
Oct 18: 316 report
Oct 25: 316 final
Oct 28: 311 final
Oct 30: 301 final
Nov 3: 301 exam
Nov 4: 316 exam
Nov 5: 312 exam
Nov 6: 311 exam (just to prove how fucked up the class is, they hold it on a Sat)
Nov 10: 313 exam
Nov 18: CAE347 exam

Oh plus one 312 assignment and a 312 final feature but I dunno the deadlines.

Take a deep breath Jess. It'll be over before you know it.

94 days: That poor dude.

Some people can be so mean. There's a posting online of pics of some guy apparently sleeping on the MRT train... except that his shorts pulled up a bit, the holes are to big, and erm... his privates were peeking out from between his legs.

But still! to post photos (with face) summore, condemming him and calling him shameless when it's obvious heh had no idea....

Sigh some people are mean.


I wonder if it were because of the heavy meal of six pieces of Marie biscuits that gave me a nightmare last night.

I remember i was on my way to perform... acting i think.. i remember wearing my black working pants and some shimmery gold top (erm yeah) and the time was abouth 10 minutes to 5pm.

I don't remember what happened in between, except that it included some sort of evil (demons and shit) masquerading as humans and trying to kill us.

Then, when we all thought it was fine and safe, one of my "friends" was next to me carrying her baby. I think that's the only member of her family that survived the attack.

And another "friend" of ours wanted to carry the baby, she she handed the baby to him.


This friend, who was actually a demon who took on the look of our friend, plucked off the baby's head.

The mother as screaming like fuck.

The whole head came off, with the spine attached to it, like it was stuck on top of a pole. Then the demon threw the body on the floor, blood everywhere, and knocked a hole at the top of the baby's head and proceeded to suck out whatever was inside.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY DREAMS????????????????????
No wonder i always so tired.

I don't remember