34 days: Things I like.

Continuation from previous post in attempt to think happy thoughts just for some sort of mental satisfaction commonly derived in Singapore by eating sinful foods.

Darren and I have been have been having a weird spell of telepathy for the last few days... probably due to too much routine in our interactions but why bother with such a mundane explanation eh??

But I just love it when things like this happen... it's... for the lack of a better word, fun? Yes it's fun.. and today was very much more fun because we just topped our record. Just as I was contemplating whether or not it would be overkill to send him a link to a Totoro webpage just to do the cliche girlfriend thing of "AWWWW look how damn cute it is" he msged me on MSN to tell me "oh guess what i bought a totorro dvd for u"

Sure he got the name wrong (whateverrrr). But it was a very nice thing to do considering that he thinks that it's "morbid" and the cat bus is "scary". (It's a cartoon for kids for chrissakes).

No flowers? Whateverrrr. Aw shucks, Totoro DVD anyday man. (big talk jess, big talk)

And all this snowballed from ph trying to spread a bit of the work around... don't think i dunno ok you discovery people tsktsktsk. I repeat = DON'T YOU DARE nominate Catherine Lim for that programme. I'm so sorry that i even brought up her name. But yes, I do wonder why they turned down Miyazaki. Why lik dat why why why.

Ah.. Studio Ghibli. I like.




I like it so much my mother bought me their entier VCD set for my birthday some time ago. Admittedly, she started the craze by bringing home a Totoro stuffed toy when she was still in that pasar-malam business (kept more stuff than she sold, if you ask me), but that's how it began.

Yup, the 1988 full-length anime movie with the catchiest theme song in the world, two little girls, one huge cat-like monster who lives in a magical tree... they don't make stuff like this anymore.



And don't you dare think that because it's Japanese and animated that it has anything to do with the bastard child H*llo K*tty.

The other one which I favour is 1988's Grave of the Fireflies, or as Monica says, "Sobfest 2002".



In other comic-related news, came across a wonderfully addictive site (no) thanks to a link on Tym's zone of distraction where she goes to escape 18-year-old versions of myself.

After reading Dylan Meconis' bio, I thought, hell, if I were lesbian, I would go for someone like that. Very very Amelie. (Would've like Amelie too, but Nino was much to cute and curbed any lurking lesbian tendancies).

I took the damn test and I'm 50% gay Alvin. I'm twice as gay as you!

And it also reinforced my undying wish to give any female kid of mine a name that raises questions. (Er. Positive questions. So I will not give a name like Doodie-ball, which will raise questions, but negative ones.) Firstly, it's a sure-cannot-miss way to start a conversation with her, and it kinda has more oomph than a name like... i dunno.. Daisy? No vegetarian names for my kids, that's for sure. No slut-associated names either, which means i have to keep my social circle small.

ANYHOW. She's a talented cartoonist with a wicked wicked sense of humour. And seems straight enough. I'm with her on the Johnny Depp part. So please have a look.

And after that, take a ride on Alvin's Gay-O-Meter. (Warning: May walk funny after).

35 days: My Achilles heel. Preferably in black/tan.

Bring her boots of leather
And she will dance for him
Shyly from a feather fan
She�'ll glance for him
Here he comes after midnight
To find her again
He will come a few times more
Till he finds a lady statue
Standing in a door
In her door - The Luverly Ms. Mitchell

Every so often I get hit by an obsession that's (surprise surprise) non-food related. As far as i'm concerned, the only money stuff worth splurging on is those stuff which will end up in my stomach. It's probably some subconscious cognitive programming picked up from my mother.. who always told me never to feel guilty over spending cash on food.

But well, I would eat these if i could.



Ok so these aren't exactly the nicest pair, but still. I don't know why, but i've been fantasising about slipping on a pair and zipping it up since the year before. I really hope I find a cheaper pair here before I go back, because I just know i will end up spending whatever it takes to get my hands on those. Being here, and wearing manly leather sandals and cheapo flipflops, althought comfortable and contributes to my hobo-istic tendancies, hasn't helped the obsession either.

Trying to recall when was the last time I had a non-food related obsession... erm.... well I can't.. does DVDs count? The most expensive piece of clothing I last purchased was Esprit pants I think - on sale lah. But I DO remember sinfully splurging on lunch just two days ago.. meet my friend Chicken Maryland, chicken breast stuffed with boiled eggs, served with side of pan fried banans, corn, fries and vegetables.

Mmmmmm. FUCK. Imagine eating THAT while wearing my boots. FUCK!

Anyhow, will stop thinking about food and boots. And Alvin, just so in case you get riled up/worked up it's not THAT KIND of fetish. I'll buy you your own pair, complete with whip, since you're 26% gay.

Why do people chatter about so? Trying my very best to feign interest in a colleague's explanation of the three types of inter-computer connection which is very strange because I never did quite ask him about it, nor had he even asked if I would like to know more about it. Nor are we close enough for him to do that "I don't care you must listen!!!" routine.

And I feel like an evil bitch for doing so because I know he's just trying to be friendly but I get more and more thrown off by the varying standards of what is culturally acceptable. i'm sorrieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Will be dashing off soon to go for class, yes me back in the classroom because I signed up for some photography thing just to get the theory to fill in the blanks. And I feel like a bit of a pai kia in class because I'm back to my sloppy ways of sitting cross legged, or slumped back in chair, or doodling and drawing and trying to see how many words I can get out of Abercrombie and Finch.

And oh dear oh dear oh dear he's started to play music on his Mac over my soft one and it's the feel-good song that reminds me of some duet but I can't recall the title... oh no no no no no no "i'm so lost without you, lonely in the night, when i'm not with you." *yelps in pain* Tried to increase my volumn slightly just so I won't have to hear it so clearly but radiohead's on the playlist and they're to softly depressing and he keeps increasing his volumn i give up i surrender you win!

this would be an excellent time to leave.

36 days

And so the work week begins.. I'm still not used to only have one off day per week. It's INSANE. Bad for workplace morals. It's such a depressing thing to hear on Thursday after work : "Ok, see you guys saturday!"

Anyway, my mom sent over the family tree list, kinda starting listing it out because my great-grandma's 92nd birthday's coming up.



So, for the record:

First Generation: 5 kids of her own
Second Generation: 27 grandchildren (23 of which are married, including my mom!)
Third Generation: 36 great-grandchildren (including me, the oldest)

Grandtotal of: SIXTY-EIGHT, 6-FUCKING-8, human beings with her blood running through our veins. Mine's horribly diluted, but still.

If you want to include all the husbands/wives, that would make her official-by-law family size a whopping: 96 people. (Including one who passed away).

And all from one woman. You REALLY gotta hand it to her. Chinese New Year is one helluva mess, i can tell you that. Why on earth is my family like some kinda baby-making factory?

She's a real gem. Vegetarian, pint-sized fighter who does her own laundry. Almost deaf, and used to be blind before my mom sent her for a cataract operation. Now her eyes are better than ever, and her memory is still astounding. "You see this photo? Ahh... i'm carrying your uncle here, he's six years old and your aunt just had her birthday the day before..". *cue* Jess's horrified face because photo was takein in 1960.

My relatives occupy three HDB flats in a row in a block in Hougang. It's quite nice, becuase once you get out of the lift and turn left, it's kinda like a private area... any strangers there will get weird stares. But it has occured to me that while we're technically close in terms of proximity, any other form of closeness is due to blood relations, and not any real sense of bonding.




The weather has been scorching lately. Whenever I used to tan, lying under direct sunlight gave my tummy a very strange queasy feeling, as if a ball of tension is coiling up inside and i just gotta get out of the sun for it to go away. Yeah well, now just walking along the street makes me feel that coiling tension.

But the little street children are still pitpattering around barefoot.. I observed one while he was walking alongside me on the pavement, lines with concrete just so you know, and he didn't seem to feel the heat at all. I know how frickin' hot that pavement is...




Am picking up on the Sufia project again as well. Just by sheer coincidence.

And now I know that the kids at the village by Buriganga weren't kidding when they told me one of their friends was going to be married. At that time, I couldn't be sure of what they were telling me about one of the girls who looked happy but shy and rather macabre in a way because of all the make up on her face. It sounded like she was getting married, but she was 6 or 7 and plus she looked really really happy.

But yesterday I realised that Sufia's daughter-in-law had been bethrothed at 7 and married at 12. So.. there. So now she's a widow at 18 with one son, no parents, no home and basically has every damn right to cry. And of course she hasn't been to school - she got married when she was 12! It's obviously illegal, but I really had not expected to find it happening near the city areas.

I really don't know what to do when people cry. i really don't. I feel like making myself invisible, because to try and comfort would be downright patronising. But I can't just stand there and do nothing. I feel like a complete idiot whenever it happens. And I should've been more prepared for it. I've had a ridiculously blessed life and I never had to deal with death in this way. But it sure as hell seems to me that everyone else here does, and they all do the same thing = ignore, and walk away, because really there's nothing you can do or say.

38 days: Just an update on thongs and pigs and things.

Yes, so Jo left, without much fan-fare. But the night before, we did reach a common consensus that the young in UK and Singapore alike are losing that will to fight. Will be doing a bit more research/talking about this... there's a story waiting to be done.. i can feel it.

Apprently, the 12-year-olds in UK now wear thongs - it's the only socially acceptable thing to do. And if you thong doesn't show - you're not cool. Hands up all those who are scared.


Anyhow, kicking start the getting-off-ever-growing-ass-and-diving-back-into-work mantra has been working out fairly well. I actually knocked out at half past midnight yesterday - it's nice to feel so dead tired after all those nights of DVD watching.

But yes, I need this work. I love it that I don't have time for lunch, I love it that I've to multitask two stories at once. Writing this blog is the first break I've given myself all day. I love it that I overdid my coffee this morning and ended up drinking caffeine plus some colouring instead.

Of course, I wouldn't love it as much if I had to do this every other day, like how ST burnt me out when I was there the last time. Balance people... balance. Shall enjoy it while it lasts. Maybe it's different in this case.. since i actually chose to do all these things.. meaning that i like what i'm doing - that's a luxury that I won't expect to come by very often.



And, in other news, my 18-year-old brother has written a... erm... piece about me. Not exactly the most conventional tribute to sisters - it's as hard on me as I have been on him - but still, i'm unchanging and unyielding in my ways. I am quite the bitch and always will be - but I honestly never had the patience to be a gentle counsellor - you know the kind that can show you the error of your ways without raising their voices and smiling throughout.

So yeah. I wouldn't really worry about buying my brother a birthday present - but I will take leave to go to his school to verbally kick the ass of any teacher that wants to force him to quit or drop anything against his wishes.

I really hate that about schools - no one should be allowed to make decisions about education other than the person receiving it.

There are a lot of good stuff I could say about him, but let's not ruin the relationship we have now eh? *wink* Let's just say his blog isn't the most typical thing to read for 17-year-olds. You don't believe me, just click on his friends' links lor. Very scary.

He did make a slight error though, in misintepreting my bitchiness. It's not that he's nothing. Just don't think that you're everything (which was really, the impression you gave me when you talk big at home).

You can't possibly think that you're nothing - which I mean, if you were, I wouldn't be bothered anymore since it would be all in vain. And well, that kind of thinking is just a slippery slope all the way to inferiority hell.


And in also, other family news. Mother has decided that the Boston or New York Marathon wouldn't be as fun as the Flying Pigs Marathon which caught her eye probably in some Runners' World magazine years ago.

My mom has a soft spot for pigs. But she doesn't want to admit it. And so - she made me her scapegoat to buy pig-related items under the guise that "Jess loves them!". I didn't quite catch on till much later. Before that.. I was always wondering why I didn't love the pig stuff as much as my mom said I did.


I really am starting to surprise myself, with all this talk about my family.

40 days: Flight or fight

Jo, or Joanna, flies off tomorrow.. and it'll be kinda sad to see her go. She's the most insecure and paranoid 45-year-old I've met wtih a loving husband and three kids. It's so odd... to have a mother ask me "Jess do you think what i'm wearing is alright?" I think she finds it strange too.

Actually her exact were, "God, I can't believe I'm learning social manners from someone younger than me."

Actually, I just told her how to lie to get out of a social appointment. So technically, I taught her to be rude. But hey it's not my fault if she can't say no.

And she's so horribly polite. She has the patience of a watermelon. Her answer to "How are you" isn't "I'm fine, thanks." It's "Oh I'm quite fine today, thank you. And how are you today?" Apparently a shorter version would be misconstrued as being rude in Bolton. But she's such a sweetheart, and her self-defacing sense of humour.. although completely uncalled for, is so hilarious.

But i'm happy that she's leaving, because she misses her girls so much I don't think she could stand it for another day longer. She talks about them so much I feel as I know them personally. It's really nice to see some old-fashioned sense of mothering.

Shall go buy DVDs of the Office in honour of Jo's depature!


------------------------------------------------

Women's Rights. Those two words really don't mean anything to me, in fact if anything I get bored and try to stay away. It has always been so horribly cliche and always about the same issues that I wanted no part in it.

Which is an irony, since I myself have been griping about being treated condescendingly. I suppose the behavoiur wasn't extreme enough to prompt me into any form of action or resistance.

When I read the news, I'm interested in what's going on in Europe or the US, or maybe political stuff between China and Japan and all that. It just feels like those are the important things that I need to know to keep abreast of things.

But there are so many other stuff I skim across, like calls for various rights in the Indian subcontinental countries and other Asian countries. All those stories about child labour, rise of religious fundamentalism, squabbling political parties and all that... I never really could be bothered to read the whole article.

Which is precisely the mindset that I'm not supposed to have. I don't know if i've mentioned it before, but one of the first things that confused me before I came here was the fact that Drik refers to Bangladesh as being part of the Majority World. Photographers from the Majority World. News from the Majority World.

It was really confusing and mentally unsettling, because let's face it, I always thought the Majority World was the one that I read about more in the papers - and Bangladesh most certainly is not part of that.

Reading the history of Drik, I was faced with a very real example of how the cliche issues of media coverage translated into very real effects on the ground.

In 1994, before the emails and internet came, Drik had a primitive email system using one single telephone line. This was by far the best (and maybe only) way that news from Dhaka could be transmitted to other countries.

In a raid on a University campus by the police, disaster and further bloodshed was averted because the news was sent out within two hours - resulting in pleas from other governments to halt any further violence.

It never quite hit me that the company i'm working for now made it possible for that to happen. It's a huge thing.. and you don't get to be part of huge things in Singapore.

And so anyway, I feel like I've digressed. But the whole new persepective of "what is news" and what is the Majority World makes me feel obliged to rethink the whole thing about Women's Rights.

It's so easy for me to ignore because I don't feel like I need anymore rights. i'm going back Singapore soon what. And yeah you can argue that things aren't exactly equal in Singapore, but it's all about perspective isn't it? A woman not earning as much as a man versus a woman not allowed to work.

And i think i've said this before too, but I see so much strength in the eyes of women here. I can say for SURE that the women of this country are more capable than its men. The men are such louts, hanging around drinking their tea and smoking, oogling at women going by, noisy and obnoxious. The women walk past you quickly, silently, heads bowed to look at their feet. They know where they're going, you never see them hanging around, they're always doing something.

Of course I paint a stereotyped picture, but it doesn't change the facts.

And anyhow, these women here have enough things on their plate to worry about to be concerned with Women's Rights. There are lobby groups and activists, but just like politics and Singaporeans you know? - we got better things to worry about

I'm just rambling on. Doing a essay on Tasmina Nazrin. Who had thousands of men protesting in the streets of Dhaka to demand her death because she demanded equal rights. With a religious death sentence on her, she can't come back to her home country.

And so, if a well-off doctor do not have the liberty to talk about such matters - what about the woman on the street bringing her son home from school? Imagine the 10 fold pressure she would feel to keep her mouth shut.

I guess it's such a gigantic and immense task that it's so much easier to flip the page.. i feel tired reading about inequality and everything.

But... if Shahidul hadn't started the email system - just one bloody telephone line - in spite of the censorship and governmental paranoia after the coup;... imagine all the things this country wouldn't have today.

Singapore made me lazy. I never had to fight for anything.



"I don't believe in God, ... The religion mongers segregate women from the human race, I too am divided, I too am defrauded of my human rights..." (those are national Bangla colours)


 

41 days: I work with an Idiot.

If there's something that I've learnt the hard way, is that having age and intellect doesn't mean you can't be an idiot.

For the past few months I've been constantly griping about the guy whom I work with... and well he's done it again! It's just so disappointing to think that knowing South American literature and having a 4-year-old son doesn't do much good for one's work personaility.

Someone told me that I should take pity on him, because perhaps he's never been in a work environment before, and doesn't know what to do.

DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO WORK BEFORE YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO LIE???

I'm just so tired of people making excuses on his behalf... it's about time we stopped babying him and.. if he has so much to learn.. well hell maybe he'd better start soon eh? His son isn't getting any younger.

This is a guy, who will blame undone work on his two young team members, because one of them is sick.. give excuses like how they are uncontactable and blahblahblah.

Work "Ethics" According to Malu:

1. Give excuses for everything - even if they don't make sense.

For example, two employees under my team is not in work today. And someone wants to know where they are. Appropriate response?

"I can't contact them. I don't have their numbers."

Oh, and before this, make sure you make them look bad. For instance, say "they said they're sick or something" in a tone that would insinuated that they are lying shrews and NOT in fact sick. It's alright even if the boy just recovered from high fever.

It's alright that while you're being asked this question, the person sitting next to you has both their numbers in her own phone. And it is also okay if people find out later from the two employees themselves how they called in this morhning to tell they would be late. I mean... what matters is the present! Just lie for the present.


2. Not do your work - and blame it on others.

For example, if a certain project is taking too much time, and someone asks why. Reply

"Oh you know A is sick or something, and B was given other work to do. And well.. C.. she's no where to be found."

It's completely acceptable to blame it on A,B and C, who are all probably younger than me. And even if A is indeed sick, I mean, it's his own fault right? And who the hell asked C to be having exams. And yes, I really don't know where she is, even though I signed the leave form for her.

Definately do not mention the fact that it's your own fault the project could not be completed because the log sheets which A,B and C needs to do work is still sitting undone in your bag.

I really I don't have to meet anymore 35-year-olds just as pathetic. I would post a picture.. but i really don't want to have a lasting visual of him on this page.

And the absolutely worst thing...I know I probably will when I start working.

42 days: It's only a Paper Schmoon

Overload of Friends DVD has resulted in me treating my supposedly normal interaction with "reality" as a sitcom-waiting-to-happen.

So I'm having this strange sense that everything I say must be funny.. and I wonder why there weren't any punch-lines in our discussion over what to have for dinner.

All thanks to Jo, who's going to kill her children's grades with her ill-advised purchase of all 10 seasons of Friends. And me and Yixin.. are well.. exercising some quality control before she leaves.


Also, way too much Nat King Cole means that when I'm not trying to fend off Chandler-like sarcastic quips in my head, I'm a sentimental. romantic pile of mush.



I'm a bit worried about my Mac. the parts of it where it has turned grey has taken off a slightly reddish tint. And i've no idea what to do about it. =( I fear I may have worn through the first layer of whiteness. =( It's such a sorry sight. =(


And interesting website: Index on Censorship

It's still 43.

Sea!
Originally uploaded by elsija.

No flights on the 19th. Greaaaaat.

43 days: Ma and Pa

Spent a bit of time thinking about what the fuck I'll be doing after school, and whether I should even be thinking about that.

Someone asked me about my birthday, and I told them that hey hell you know I'm not even 21 yet. I'll turn 21 in December.

Then i remembered.. No... I turned 21 last year. Unconscious self denial is so powerful sometimes. So I corrected myself.. I turn 22 in December.. way after my peers have had their birthdays and gotten over the customary "getting old where-did-the-time-go" whining.

It's something I've always enjoyed really, having a birthday so late in the year, because I feel like I've been given an extra year. I mean, sure they got a headstart on me in life, but during the first year when everything is nipples and baby poo it doesn't quite matter does it?

But yes, after I pointed out that I would turn 22 in December, it got me to thinking whose birthday would be coming up next.. just a mental reminder to myself.

And it suddenly hit me and I stopped breathing for a moment - that just two months after my birthday, a good friend of mine would turn 23.

I mean, that number has NEVER come up in conversation before.. especially with me (who was thinking for a long time that I was still 20). But to hear that number... she must be petrified. At least I still have more than a year to go to be there.

i don't think i've really freaked out over age before.. this is the first time that a number has taken me completely by surprise. I think i'm too used to my "youth" - that very distinctive thing that people thing here have chosen to impose on me.

So in an email to dad, I just asked if they were sending me too much money... how his new job was going after his retirement from the police force, and where it was all going... whether he was going to retire or try and work up the ranks for better pay and all that stuff.

I know too many of my peers who have already been giving this thought way before they should have to, and I always felt very lucky and blessed (by who, dunno also) to not be in that kind of position.

But I've great plans for my parents anyway, and i've had them for a long time. It's not that i feel more pressurized now.. but the goal seems clearer.

I should have learnt more from them about happiness. My mom gets happy when she can have a 15 km jog in peace, chat with her running kakis and maybe a bit of supper/lunch/breakfast... My dad.. maybe a nice meal outside (with no one getting pissed at each other) with everyone.

I don't even know what their idea of "a good time out" is. Especially my mom. If we ever wanted to hang out.. i really wouldn't know what to do. I gotta hang out with her more. She gets all excited when we go out.. I feel like a guy taking a girl out for a date sometimes.

I know for a fact, that these are the two things i will be saving for the moment I start working. i'll have two funds - one for each of them.

Fund #1 - Send Mom to the U.S. for the Boston Marathon
Fund #2 - Send Dad to Namibia/Zimbabwe for a Safari trip and to revisit the place he spent almost a year in.


Without them around, it becomes so obvious how similar i am to them. I see my mom in the way I do the dishes, or clean the room, my fastidiousness in collecting plastic bags and rubber bands, the way I tie up my biscuits so it won't lao hong, the way i cannot stand to have soap left on the sink after i'm done with the dishes, the way i look at price tags of EVERYTHING i buy before i even consider buying them, the way i absolutely need my clothes to have some sun before i consider them clean.

And my dad, in the way I can be such a judgemental bitch sometimes, and how much pride i take in being independent, the way i iron my clothes, and the way the sight of almost all animals perk me up, the weird store of random trivia i have accumulated from too much animalplanet/nationalgeographic/discovery channel, and the utter ease i feel at being outdoors.. too much stories from dad about kampong life made me feel as if i lived it myself.

Yeah, so all these similarities became very obvious. And it makes me happy when i see it.. because hell, they're not the most disagreeable traits to inherit, is it?

And my dad replied my worries, and just to quote a few lines:

"You don have to worry abt Pas retirement. Pa is as strong as ever. Just ran 15 k with mummy last saturday."

*wry smile* heh, well, whaddayaknow. I'm still so shamed that my 49-year-old mother can outrun me anytime, anyday.

45 days: Come on, try me tonight

I got no wisdom that I want to pass on
Just don't hang round here
No i'm telling you son
You don't wanna know me
That's just what's everybody's telling me.
You look like me,
but please don't turn into me
You look like me,
but you're not like me I hope
I have run away from the one thing that I ever made
Oh I wish I could show you,
wish I could show a little soul.

- A Little Soul, Pulp

Bad sleep again. I'm ok with not enough sleep, but haven't lousy sleep just makes me go crazy. It's like having your favourite icecream that tastes bad for some reason. Disappointing.

And have been terribly paranoid about everything. Dreamt that my mother died. And all sorts of things. Worry about my brother. Worry about everything. it'll blow over soon once I get sleep or something.

46 days: may not respond

Why is it, no matter how hard I try, I'm still incoherant on MSN?

Couldn't sleep last night. Maybe I shouldn't think so much at night.. but there's nothing else to do. So I sleep, with thoughts on my mind.. making me dream uncomfortable dreams, making me wake up feeling like I haven't slept.

I was asking Jo about sleeping pills last night, because I wanted more control over when I slept. But she said, "but that just means you have no control."

I don't quite get it yet.. but I know I will.

It's still 47.

Cox Bazaar, Chittagong
Originally uploaded by elsija.

47 days: It's time to Panic

Yes, I knew this would happen. Six months would fly by and then I'd scramble to do last minute things.

Have been in an out-of-sorts mood for the past couple of days... not too sure why, but poor Darren on the receiving end of the crazy-psycho-bitch stick. i've already tried toning it down, truely truely I have.

But I figured, what I really need is work. I'm no good at slacking, no good at doing nothing. It drives me crazy. I need the stress, or I can't operate.

I just realised I do have a ton of things to do.

Met someone interesting, which made my radars prick up. I can smell an interesting person from a mile away, and I've rarely been wrong. Sometimes interesting becomes "so interesting in the WRONG WAY" but still... i'm right, technically.

But yes, Michael the American from the Peace Corps who spent two years in Sylhet teaching English. I've met his "type" before, the kind that actually does some work and not make phonecalls from an office to move some money downtown, but they all disappeared before i could ask questions.

And so, I have shamelessly arranged a meeting to talk to him further.

I need to know, what drives these people. Where their happiness comes from. What is their take on life. I need to know.. I know I'm supposed to figure all this out by myself, but it's so unbelievably interesting for me to listen to what others have to say. I mean, isn't he jaded? Isn't he tired? Doesn't he miss home?

What makes them tick?

I interviewed the Mercy Relief director about this... and he didn't really have a lot to say.. well phone interviews aren't the best for exchanging life anecdotes.. but people doing this kind of work have a serenity about them.. a sense of calmness.. a decision's been made about their life, and there's no going back.

Other than that, I have to find more work for myself.

48 days: Out by the Boxcar, waiting.

Never really thought much about the whole Casino because let's call a spade a spade shall we? It's a Casino, no no TWO CASINOS with fringe benefits. Didn't have much to say about the issue because as everyone has been saying, it was a done deal from the start. The ah pek sitting below your block could've told you that.

But well at least someone has stopped poking fun at it and said what had to be said.

I wish they'd come right out and say what they want to say, instead of leading us on a merry dance of consultation that twirls us right back to the starting position, from which they weren't going to budge in the first place. Be bold, be blatant, be unapologetic. Have some balls about it, for goodness's sake. Don't dick around with the faux courtship --- small talk, plastic corsages --- only to turn alpha male once the dance is up.

Amen, amen. It's true. They owe us at the very least an apology. I'd sure as hell like to see that, all of 'em lined up in their spanking white get up doing an apology like how the japanese do it.

All the cliches are rushing back.... treat us like kids, want us to speak up, mature enough to have casino, not mature enough to enter without paying 100 bucks... *close eyes and sigh*

If the government has no balls, what does that make us? This population, half of which too old to care anymore, the other half too scared to talk.

And them, hiding behind their political correctness, their pack of PR hounds that i've seen in action so often, grovelling at their masters' feet and pit pattering along behind them with their files and clipboards.. I wanted to ask them, "how much is he paying you to degrade yourself like this? why are you treating him like a god? it's just a minister. not one of the big ones too."

So, we're a country with no balls lah.

So now we can all sing, ala Sheryl Crow:

I'm standing in the middle of the desert
Waiting for my ship to come in
But now no joker, no jack, no king
Can take this loser hand
And make it win

And all those who want to migrate, join in the chorus!:

I'm Leaving Las Vegas
Lights so bright
Palm sweat, blackjack
On a Saturday night
Leaving Las Vegas
Leaving for good, for good
I'm leaving for good
I'm leaving for good



happy thoughts, happy thoughts.






4:33 pm UPDATE:

HE'S BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.

I thought my eyes deceived me.. but it's true, he's back, after climbing "mountains in Taiwan" and trudging through "jungles in Brunei" (don't the NS guys do that).... you think he'd be contented with his spa businesses (or facials for men? confusing..) but nooooooooo

BENEDICT GOH wants to make a comeback into the television screen...Via CNA's Audition Me! (I really hope it's not old news. I can't be. Someone would've mentioned it.)

At least now he knows Pyramid Game not good for image, so go for CNA lor.


Wah lau i can't believe my eyes. I even went to dig this out in tribute. Mr Brown, well he's always been funny, but maybe he had a slightly meaner streak in him back in 1998 (pre-kid-era).


Brown's Classic Post: The Many Faces of Benedict Goh




Celebrities these days are SO dull compared to the likes of Ben-ben.

49 days: A bit of labour on Labour Day

Sure, I get an off-day today. But at least those in Singapore get Monday off as well.

But i'm still in office, sadly. Have ten tonnes of photos to scan in... and it's nice to have whole office to myself... no small talk, no need to smile unless I'm really happy, no need to do anything but my own things.

Given the option of bad company and no company, the choice is always clear. Unless I'm Rachel, in Friends, who cannot eat lunch by herself.

I've watched Seasons 8 and 10 about 10,000 times each, so forgive me.

Spent a whopping 415 Tks at Kozmo yesterday.. visiting it 2 days in a row would make me feel kinda freakish, if not for the fact that I'm starting to think of it as just a visit to a very expensive friend's house. I switched seats about 5 times.. from the sofa to the table to the bar to the table... the owner and I are really hitting it off... I think it's our shared interest in Beyonce.

And they played concert videos for U2 and Beyonce as well.. so it was no wonder I stayed till closing time again.

The worst thing... absolutely absolutely worst thing... is when I convert 415 tks it comes up to a whopping... S$12.

12 bucks. For the best iced tea, a foamy latte, a banana smoothie, fries, deep fried little fish pieces (food shared by two), an a moroccan spaghetti... and to end the night, hot tea.

oh, and a iced tea on the house in between somewhere.

12 bucks, for all that great drinks and food, for nearly 5 hours of nua time catching up on three back issues of the Economist, watching two concert videos...

Priceless baby, priceless.

Back to work. One hour, only three rolls down. Fuckarooo.

50 days: Brushing the Cobwebs of the Sky

I'm restarting the countdown, seeing that i've a definitive date to be back in Singapore.

The storms have not been letting up, they've been a regular but welcomed visitor almost every evening. And thanks to that, I had another one of those sweet nights yesterday.. you know those few moments you'll remember out of the six months of any experience.

It was a nice coincidence that the rain had slowed to a drizzle just as i typed the final words in the report i was trying to finish. Work on an off-day. Nice. Would have probably finished it in double quick time too, if I hadn't been so stupid to watch Apocalyspe Now. Just one scene.. just one scene... Ya right. The horror!

So I headed out solo, pleased that the weather had finally turned cold enough to wear my favourite brown jacket out. Got on a rickshaw, headed to Rifle Square for a bit of grocery shopping.

I probably have said this enough before, but I really enjoy grocery shopping. Just let me loose in NTUC or Cold Storage and watch me make myself happy man.

Agora doesn't quite have the range.. I mean.. its instant noodles rack barely takes up three tiers.. and that's shameful. But I got what I needed, taking a raincheck on the bunch of thailand longans. And strawberries. And this box of cherries that looked like juice wrapped in skin. Ah well, good fruits expensive.

And I figured, why end the night so early when it was so good?

Headed to this place I'd seen perched on the fourth floor of one of those decrepit-looking malls, full length glass windows all round... the Kozmo Lounge. I think I was just drawn to any place that might serve alcohol, even though I knew there was no chance in hell I was going to get a nice margarita to end the night with.

But it was a nice, the owner couldn't quite decide between the Japanese zen look at the minimalist metal-and-faux leather look. So they had comfy sofas scattered around, plus the usual given dinner tables in dark wood and glass.

I didn't even notice the projection screen playing VH1 Divas Live till I sat down... and yeaaaaaah i still can't stand Shakira.

To make up for the lost margarita, I had the rare and elusive iced lemon tea. (Dhaka has a blanket ban on ice lemon tea in ANY FORM, canned or fresh). So fresh the lime leaves they ground to put in hasn't even sunk to the bottom yet. And treated myself to a plate of honey-glazed chicken wings, which seemed more like teriyaki, but who the hell cares.

There was a couple a few tables behind, but i didn't really care. It's nicer than Cafe Mango, because it's... more honest I suppose. I liked being the youngest there.

The sweetness of it all sank it. Me, alone on the fourth floor of a almost empty shopping mall, looking at the street lights below and the barest hint of rain drops on the glass. Chicken wings and iced tea.

And then to make the moment more complete, the Dixie Chicks came on over the excellent stereo. I never tire of "Landslide". I don't understand why people diss the group so much.. or maybe i would if I listened to more of their stuff. But yes, even the Smashing Pumpkins version couldn't top theirs.

I changed seats to get a better view of the projection screen so I could watch a bit of the mtv, and got myself another cup of latte.

Later, the owner came over to chat with me. Nice, mid-30s, interesting tattoo on wrist. He'd fit in so well with Darren and his group of friends.. cut from the same mould, they would say.

He has a day job in the American Express bank.. and the lounge was just a nighttime hobby for him.

The conversation flowed freely... after a while it wasn't the cordial kind of small talk anymore, but real, proper conversation which I hadn't realised till then - I had been sorely lacking.

"You know, I really believe that I stopped growing mentally when I was 22. Everyone stops growing at some time or other, and that's the way it should be. But some stop too soon."

"Oh yes, there hasn't been any lack of those examples."

What I really liked, was that he didn't ask all those typical questions about whether I liked Bangladesh and what my job was etc etc. Talk instead about his wife, significance of family ties, irritating old classmates who he couldn't recognise anymore and yet were insistant on reunions...

I don't know why I enjoyed it so much. Maybe he's a Gemini, one of those good ones. Or maybe I was just so relieved at the sight of a human being that seemed perfectly fine with talking to me as an equal, with respect and no prejudice because of my foreigner status and age...

Yes, it was a real good night.



50 more days to touchdown.

I like Pengs.

At any rate guys, I don't keep track of my site's traffic, so it doesn't make a difference.

But I do agree with what he wants to do.. but maybe he oughta think a bit better about the "execution process" and how to make it available to all who want to read/listen to it.

But lately, I've been thinking a lot about home. Not missing it in the achy-breaky-heart way, but just stoning into space and imagining how it would be like. And i really do think that all this was set off by the damn Brownyagi podcasts lah. I mean.. "they don't play mother one" ok???

So i'm wondering why i had such intense feeling against singapore initially.. its not that the things that I disliked about it disappeared.. but that I had underestimated how happy the other stuff made me.

1. Hougang Avenue 10

My home of the past 18 years. Seeing the crowds of kids coming out from stadium after their Sports Day, or the kids going for swimming lessons on sundays at the public pool. The tiny coffeeshop below the block, next to Econ Minimart, with the best chicken wings and "tie ban tofu" in town. The owner of the econ minimart has seen me grow up.,. literally.. the family's been there since i moved in.

The Ah Mms downstairs.. always gossiping.. calling me "ma ta kia" or "policeman's kid"... which just goes to show how long they've been there.. it's been a LONG time since my dad wore his uniform. When i'm in the lift with one of them... they'd ask in dialect.. where i'm studying.. how long more... you're so tall now you know... (ya right)... how's my brother doing.. wah he's already 17??? so big..."

Being able to say " le ai ki mai?" (you want to go up?) to one of them at the lifts when i get back would make me smile a lot).

Walking to the busstop for 165 in the rain. I've realised in my JC days, when missing a bus meant standing with the latecomers behind everyone else, that I can run and make it to the bus if I just come out of the lift and spot it at the traffic lights. It's the 100 m dash in the morning. If the bus is at a red light, I sprint down 100 m and i'll beat the bus. if not, i'll be sprinting BY the bus.. and the driver usually stops to wait lah.


2. Newton and Kopitiams

Newton is the epitome of kopitiams for me. Sitting at the same place everytime, such that the drink stall uncle only has to look at us to confirm that it's the usual order... chatting with him about his job and his two teenage kids.. he's a funny guy who talks with a deadpan face. Serving us our beer in plastic cups when it gets too late... "ma ta lai liao lah"

And all other kopitiams as well... the 24 hr ones especially... the one outside National library which closed.. the one near my place with the big banner (3 Crabs $15 only!).. the one near NTU...

I forgot how often i'd order "kopi peng" from these places. I like the bustle of the place.. i'm sure we all do. The tiger aunties rushing around.. with their platform shoes and black pouches and mini skirts, the hawkers who'd joke with you or make a big thing out of preparing your meal...

Getting a good seat outdoors meant a lot to me.. you escape a bit of the heat and oily smell.. and get the night air. Sometimes ordering that plate of char kway teow which you KNOW you shouldn't cos you're not hungry at all. Cos I never had a taste for it.. I was never into rojak..though everyone seems to make it like a big deal. (what's so great about it... BBQ chicken wings better still)

Oh my god.. almost forgot Chomp Chomp.. when my family had a car we'd go there a lot.. visits dropped a lot since they revamped the place to look like.. well.. mini-East Coast hawker centre... lost its flavour along the way. But what to do? Give me back my lousy plastic chairs, wooden foldable tables and all that.

3. Serangoon Road

I spent a lot of time in Little India.. cos Darren's studio is there.. and initially just to let me get used to the crowds.. but then I started to really like it. What's there not to like about the place, seriously? I like that chinese kopitiam smack in its middle... sometimes got the bar girls there eating.. but i tell you.. the bak chor mee they serve there is damn bloody good. Siew mai sucks though.

And milo peng! I always order that too! I forgot.

There's apparently very good pig organ soup on the other side.. along Jalan Besar.. will try when I go back.

1 tequila 2 tequila 3 tequila.. more?

Ok, so I had my first drink of Tequila in like... almost four months. Jo produced a bottle out of nowhere, and although my instincts told me to FLEEEEeeee when I saw the dreaded Malu sitting down... the allure was too great.

Besides, I was there first! Already settled down into my usual seat in the kitchen, nice steaming BIG bowl of Maggi instant porridge mixed with egg (tastes better than it sounds believe me), giant mound of fried shallots which I did up.. my book..

Then Jo comes in and "Jess, would you like a shot of tequila?"

Damn surreal can? Almost 40 mother-of-three asking me at 8pm just as I'm about to tuck into chinese food whether i want a drink. And I mean, it's ONLY like my favourite drink, other than teh peng.

(I swear I'll never say teh peng again with a straight face and without thinking of Tay Ping Hui. No thanks to the Brownyagi Podcasts)

Yeah... so we drank till midnight. A bottle of tequila sure do disappear quickly with five drinkers at the table. Malu ordered from his very elusive source another bottle of whisky..but I didn't stick around long enough to enjoy that. Not that I would have anyway... hello? Why have whisky when there's tequila.

But at least I don't crave for it. I was saying no to jo already.. (porridge and tequila??) but well... she was persistant ok??



On another note, Norman bin Sawi is a cruel cruel boy.

NORMAN DON'T MAKE ME THINK ABOUT NASI LEMAK IN THE MORNING.

Jess is now cheap... will work for food, really.

Omerta lah not Omelette

Dunno leh Huckerby, when you say I'm Miyagi-ed it sounded like he "did a job on me and ran off". You know.. you've been Punk'd! Same vein of thought. Plus summore I already have this image of a hamsup (but funny) Miyagi.. too many babe photos on the site man. But I'm sure the guys would disagree.

At least you see, Mr Brown more wholesome. Got pics of his kids summore.


Anyway, I finally finished reading The Godfather, speed marathon session - one book in two nights. But I think i was dreaming in Italian last night.

The people here would just LOVE the book. Typical men behaviour. Classic quote from book and movie: "Women and children can be careless, but not men." Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaa your mother should've been more careless giving birth to you.

But it's been quite a long time since I read this kind of books... and its easy to ignore fictional MCP. But at least i'm one down on the stupid stack of books (how to lug back to Singapore??? Die die die).

But yeah reading is like eating you know. If you want to enjoy your food, you gotta vary the dishes. Otherwise even if I serve you chilli crab everynight after a while you also sian.

Ok scrap that. I could live with chilli crab everynight. Maybe... fishball kwayteow.

But yup, it was a good break from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintanence, which is driving me a little crazy. Its like Sophie's World all over again (which I did not, and did not wish to, complete). But... just like food... this kind of book must finish reading one lah. You know it's good.. I never left a piece of good crab behind no matter how full I am.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values- Robert M. Pirsig

Haha which reminds me of a Friends joke. Rachel making fun of Ross eating too fast.

"You practically breathe in your food through a straw!"

"I grew up with Monica! If you didn't eat fast you didn't eat!"


Trivia Bit: Wong Kar Wai's Chungking Express was my Godfather! He did that film to give himself a break over that epic he was doing.. can't remember the name of the epic, ironically.. Ashes of something... Extended DVD got its trivia perks.

the day sucks. this sucks. you suck.

[Update at 5:33pm : The guy is still not here. And apparently, according to Malu, he's "coming". But it's a "surprise visit" so we're not supposed to know what time. Right. A surprise visit. That's why he called yesterday asking us to call back to arrange a time. Right. ]

Trying to release all the 15 year old anger hormones into the title. PMS hitting hard this year follks, and it looks like it might be awihle.

So i'm sitting here in my tiny cubicle, waiting and waiting for the meeting to start. The guy (government official, wouldn't you have guessed) is supposed to be here at 1. It's now five minutes to 4. I have officially rotted away my day sending emails, chatting, reading Savage Love and various nonsense.

I will take a slow pause after work today. At promptly five o'clock, my ass is going to kiss this place goodbye. I will climb onto a rickshaw, and take a bumpy ride to Dhanmondi Lake. I will get off, pay 10 Tk without haggling (bargaining just going to fray my nerves more), head to the lake and order myself a hot cup of lemon tea. Sit by the brick wall and just do nothing.

Then, I will get up, walk back to Pathshala. Lock myself in the room, change into something comfortable, wash my face, blast the music, turn on the aircon and read my book.

At night I will ascend the stairs to eat the chow mein I asked Peter if he could prepare for dinner. I will have my orange juice (if it's gone by then i will SCREAM) and my mandarin oranges which I bought yesterday.

I will read some more in my room, (because wow, the Godfather is a better read than movie), and I will pop two panadols and go to sleep. The local panadols are POWERFUL. it's also 500mg, but it knocks me out.

I'm just trying to psych myself to have a nicer end to the day.

Or i could go to rifle square and get myself some Seinfeld to watch.

Nah. Staring at the screen will just make me feel like puking. i'll read my book. And fall asleep listening to Mr Brown and Mr Miyagi crap about Singaporean life.

Yeah miracles do happen.

After an immense amount of email being sent back and forth between me and Shyam and Cherian... I was getting a bit disheartened by Cherian's rather cold and quick way of replying.. I remembered him having a bit more humour than that face-to-face mah...

But the last email takes the cake, after i've been trying to negotiate my way into the Indon team and hoping to be paired up with __Friend__ (who might not share the same enthusiasm, unfortunately =( )



Dear Jessica,

Just to confirm, we're moving you the Indon team.

You'll swop with __Friend__, who will go to Sri Lanka instead.

I hope that's satisfactory.

OK, OK, just kidding.




Yeah so my heart attack set in about three lines down. YAY! Cherian is still funny... at my expense.. but still funny. In the spilt second before my eyes scanned the entire mail, I think I had a million thoughts in my head like "WHAT THE FUCK THE SCHOOL FUCKED IT UP AGAIN MY GOD THEY'RE MORONS WHAT THE HELL JUST LIKE I EXPECTED NOTHING EVER GOES RIGHT I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY SCREWED UP AGAIN"

But haha. Heh.


But won't be with Shyam (*pout*) and Kay Chin instead who uses digital so boo hoo for me.. but HIYAH not going to complain about it.

We're really very lucky, people. And i'm very sorry, but I disapprove entirely of letting Year 2s onto the list. There's such a thing as limited chances, and that's the soon-to-be-graduating students have, not them.


And yes, to prove that Darren DID visit me and I didn't miss him so much till I hallucinated him:



And a tiny few photos from Kushtia loaded. Yes I know it's bad. Photoshop killed my eyes after the scanner screwed up the scanning. (everything was tinted wrongly i don't know what i did i plead post-midnight brain failure) and I was too tired to re-do them then. I TRIED.

Dunno if anybody remember Aki the girl who i said brought me about everywhere in Kushtia, never seen someone so protective of me before... if I don't hold her hand in the crowd she gets anxious.




fuck. now it's too blue. HIYAH. i give up. the prints came out fine. digital stoopid.



This one is my favourite shot. the rest are no good lah.

*discouraged*

But then again I kind rushed through everything.. didn't even bother to check the negatives properly.. i may have a gem lying somewhere... it's always very satisfying to see a shot "EH!!!!! why i never see this before!!!!" with digital everything there.. no hunt, no kick haha..

The Sick Girl and the Sea

Returned from Chittagong, Cox's Bazaar on Wednesday.. have been trying desparately to catch up on all the lost internet time, what with Darren's week-long visit where i did NOT bother with the computer.. and the trip..

And yea, Darren came and left - leaving me feeling rather depressed. It's tough after awhile being almost surrounded completely by people that you wouldn't normally hang out so much with... it is getting a tad bit tiring.. especially after the trip to Chittagong with some of them.

And let me just state for the record, 11 hour bus rides are no fun. Especially when you've to take two of them with just one day in between.

But Asia's so -called longest beach is not bad.. prettier in the moonlight without the men staring.. the sea unfortunately is murky.. but hey... it's a beach.

Would type more... but not quite in the mood.

Oh. Happy Birthday Guiqing. Guess you had one heck of a present this time eh?

A bit too much of Nostalgia

As I packed my bag, getting ready to leave for office, I dropped a couple of sachets of Nescafe 3-in-1 without even thinking. And when it occured to me as I was stepping out of the door, where the hell I was going to find hot water and a mug, i realised that I had just reflectively done it just like how I always did when I left my hall for the Chron room on wretched Thursday nights.

So tonight, I do miss Chron. Only because of Nostalgia - you know, comfort of familiarity in a otherwise foreign place - no matter how uncomforting it may be.

I miss the people most though, not so much the work. GQ slinking off sometimes because she's so damn tired, those rare occassions when someone actually brought in supper, the morning of the last issue when how's-the-curry-PH and I sat on the stairs.. I think we were having a conversation, but I wonder how good it was after a night of no sleep. And those rare days when I actually dragged myself to breakfast, and watch in astonishment as Raymond eats his breakfast.

And those feelings of panic in Lit class sometimes when I wasn't in Chron room, wondering if someone had fucked up the final copy again after the teachers had gone through. And then wondering if I had fucked anything up.

The ocassional beer, of course, which made everyone happier. Alvin, who got more business-like and efficient when he was tired. And his hammock... which I think have had its very fair share of female posteriors resting upon. Which is more than I can say for his lap, unfortunately.

It makes the whole thing more important than it really is, because seriously, anyone can tell you that it really isn't. But still, it was fun, and it makes me instinctively grab coffee-to-go when i leave at night to do work.

In office now exploiting the scanning machine in office to scan in my negatives - something long overdue. I could send it in to a lab to be scanned, but that would cost. i don't know how much - but can do myself do it lor. Besides, it's nice to have the office to myself, the Creative speakers all to myself - on which i'm listening Mr brown's podcast - nothing like a few Singaporean voices sometimes.

So yeah, I guess it's obvious i'm homesick. Well maybe not homesick.. but certainly not disapproving of a few Singaporean things. And that I won't hate singapore when I go back, unlike what I prophesied a couple of weeks ago. of course, I also predicted I may change my mind - so I'm still right.

I think in future, I'll just stick to my guts and always assume my indecisiveness will win in the end - and i'll be right in all assumptions.

Finally! An Answer!

I feel your leg under the table
Leaning into mine
I feel renewed
I feel disabled
By these bonfires in my spine
I don't know who the arsonist was
Which incendiary soul
But all I ever wanted
Was just to come in from the cold
- joni mitchell

I have finally found an answer to the question that has no doubt been the topic of many round table discussions involving an all-female audience.

What's good about Singaporean guys?

(As I mentioned, mostly guys, few men.)

The Answer : They're not condescending.

This is a sweeping statement of course. But it feels good to finally have reached an answer to that previously rather unanswerable question.

But yes, I think the Singaporean male species have spoilt me because I expected the same kind of basic respect from men here. But NOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooo...

So, everytime we get together to bitch about the kind of "variety" which we get to choose from, I shall always remind you of the one good trait they possess.

---------------------

Stagnating in office for a bit, instead of doing research for the projects i'm trying to handle. i'm not too sure what's the problem, because I finally feel as though I'm doing work, but it's not getting me anywhere.

I wonder if ST will pay if I hire a translator.

OCC clinic

After research, I've realised that this government funded One-Stop Crisis Centre in the local hospital has been covered intensively. Quite a bit of a let down professionally, since now I find my original angle extremely lacking. But it's good also, since I was quite apprehensive about doing a straight-piece on the place.

The place is so "obvious" that I really can't quite think of another angle. It's a ward in the hospital dedicated to abused children. They accept acid burn victims, sexually abused toddlers and physically abused domestic workers.

It's your basic nightmare, which was a reason why I did not want to work on it initially. Can you imagine me breaking down and crying in front of these children at their "plight"?

As i mentioned before, am I allowed to pity them if they don't pity themselves?

Lars told me I was being quite stupid in giving up such an excellent story idea, but right now it doesn't quite seem so excellent. It seems more exploitative than ever, especially after reading the reports that have been done on them. They just go in detail about how they've been tortured, how pitiful they are, how terrible their abusers are, how unfair the law is to them yadayadayada.

Surely something more can be said? But what?? No matter how I approach this story, it's impossible because these children are interesting to me for one reason, and that reason is what makes it cliche. And thus no matter how I go about doing this, i'm still turning them into "subjects" which is not what I want at all. I fear a dead end. Work on abused children has always been on "abused children". It's really quite tiring to keep seeing them as that.

---------------------

Also. Just found out today that my king of one-liners, Mitch Hedberg, died. Ah well... Comedians also can die of drug related problems, not just rockers ah.

Tribute:

"Alcoholism is a disease, but it's the only one you can get yelled at for having. Goddamn it Otto, you are an alcoholic. Goddamn it Otto, you have Lupus ... one of those two doesn't sound right."

"I once saw a forklift lift a crate of forks. And it was way too literal for me."

"I wanna hang a map of the world in my house. Then I'm gonna put pins into all the locations that I've travelled to. But first, I'm gonna have to travel to the top two corners of the map so that it will not fall down."

Sardaghat Market, Buriganga River, Old Dhaka
Originally uploaded by elsija.