I bet Indians are happier than Singaporeans

Ok, I'm moving to Nigeria, for real. Or South America.


I wonder where's Singapore ranked in THIS survey.

The World Happiness Survey:

Here and Here

A certain Park on a certain Night

I'd never been to the Speakers' corner before. I knew where it was located, roughly, but the entire Chinatown/ClarkeQuay/NorthBridge/SouthBridge/BoatQuay area is just one big mess of directionless impressions in my head. Make no mistake about it, I will get lost in that area.

Anyway, after taking photos for FYP (am working: hooray!) along North Canal Road, I debated between heading to Settler's Cafe just a few doors down and crossing the road to Hong Lim Park, aka our Speakers' Corner.

Lars, in case you this is uncharacteristically like our country, you need to get your speeches cleared before you speak. At the police post nearby.

Anyway, I never liked parks in Singapore. Actually, I never liked the concept of a park. Too manicured, too fake. Too planned.

This park's no different. But it was so cute to see a sign prohibiting musical instruments and sound players or something.

So I took photos of cats around the park. It was nice to be out of the house anyway.

But I kinda wish that couple could've chosen a better place to start making out.

Oh wait. They were in a park. Hm.

Jess wants to see what typing with tequila feels like.


Oops.

Somehow, I turned on comments moderation, and didn't know about it. Ah well, its off now.

I did it! Some how I did it! I downloaded the entire Season 1 of Grey's Anatomy!

The show has protaganist Meredith Grey narrating throughout, offering very witty and philosophical insights on her life, the big picture, everything. Her voice booms of wisdom at the beginning and end of each episode.

I have no narrator in my life, no one's wrapping up my scenes, no one's giving me the moral of all my few stories. Hey! That's something Meredith would say.

But yes, I feel like a Meredith. Because Meredith thinks too much. Meredith makes a big deal of everything. Meredith tries to understand things that she shouldn't bother with.

This is why Grey's Anatomy is such an excellent show. A character to suit your every mood. Relate to the show no matter how you feel! Sad/cynical/perky/happy/goofy/philosophical/cute/nonchalent/assholic.

Let me type something i think Meredith would say.

"You see, I believe, no matter how humble you are, no matter how realistic you try to be, no matter how low your self esteem is, you never really truely believe that you're dispensable until it happens. Being dispensable. It has a nice ring to it, I think. And even after I know it, I still refuse to believe it. Power of denial people, witness the power of denial and naive optimism all rolled into one."

I lack a metaphor. Tequila takes away my metaphors.

SIGN UP HERE

If I manage to get a team together, I so totally gonna take part in the Singapore River Raft Race next year.

Like, totally.

Why? Because its the most fun I've witnessed in Singapore for a loooong time. It beats everything on my list so far.

Oh wait, there is no list. Hmm ok its the only fun thing I've seen in Singapore so far.

Its friggin' hilarious people! I think I will die laughing on my raft. They will have to fish me out.

1. Parody of Raffles!
2. Parody of Sang Nila Utama!
3. Parody of Sang Nila Utama and Raffles!
4. Aeroplane!
5. A CAT!
6. Sinking Blondes!

Er ok maybe I won't be contributing much to the fun or creative part, but I still think it will be hilarious. Its all in the details! We won't win the race, but dammit we'll give 'em them a show to remember!

Witness, just one small slice of the hilarity I saw this morning:


Ok fine, its the you-had-to-be-there kinda hilarity. These three kiddos were paddling away and completely tired out by the end of the race. The the one on the left sits like a little king on a little throne.

And, my boat is so gonna kick this boat's ass.


I liked how the emcees poked fun at everything.

[During the 'International Race' the Brit team swerved in the direction Brewerkz]
-"Oh it looks like the Royal British Navy are going off-course!... yeah you Brits are just gonna head straight for the beer aren't you."
-"That's supposed to be a cow??? Oh boy you guys sure ARE creative."
-"Just to remind the tourists, these are NOT the boats you will be on if you sign up for the Singapore River Cruise.."

Anyway, I was at the event for another reason altogether:

Spot the odd butt out. (Er, its not me)

Brother's 2nd body building competition.

So, with one healthfreak-brother and one mother-marathoner in my family - I guess I have to accept that genes are all dad's.

Witness! The similarity.

My mom and I quite enjoy exchanging jokes like "i told you he's senile" and "Woodbridge lost a patient again" when my dad laspes into this fuck-care-i-will-sit-where-i-like mood. He really really doesn't care. And well, neither do I.

Interesting note: the sheer number of cameras I saw on display today at Clarke Quay made me want to hide mine. I don't know why! It must be an ego/pride thing.

They were ALL carried by men. With spiffing new Lowepro bags and tripods. You know what they say about short men syndrome... the cameras seemed to be fulfilling some kinda similar purpose. Maybe it was because so many of 'em had huge zoom lenses screwed on.

Ah whatever! I wonder what gaping hole of my personality my camera fills up.

I miss cheap BW film.

This is my favourite pasttime too.

Yeah I know I've been such a utter bore.

You know who's not boring? My cousins Reuben and Reagan.

Violent tendencies aside (ultraman and what not), they totally outclassed me.

"No! First you must come down from the sky!"
"Oh ok but which missile you use?"
"Use the pink missile. Its very fast one."

Of course, I can't understand half of their ultraman jargon. I'm sure they sensed this, and thus tried to switch to a topic which they assumed I'd understand - fashion.

I tried asking him which of two shirts belonged to him (the other would be his brother's).

"Oh so if your korkor picked the red one, that means you take this blue one?"
"Its not blue."
"Huh? It's blue what."
(disdainfully) "It's dark blue."

Wah lau. He's four, leh.

I wonder if children have any concept of age. They think my grandma's 6, my aunt's 12, my mom's 11 and my uncle's 10. Hm.

I used to think that I would never allow my kid to play with guns/missiles/bazookas/cannons/any-form-of-weapon, and preach to him the positive-ness of world peace and what not.

But what if this turns him/her into an outcast in school?

"OK! All of you take the gun then we go and hide and this group must try to kill this group!"
"No, my mummy says not to think with our penises and to think with our head. We must be peaceful."
"......................"
"My mummy says there are too many wars going on."
"... Ok you next time ah you don't play with us."



Speaking about violence, I found out on the Nat Geo channel last night that:

1. chimpanzees eat other smaller monkeys and they like the taste of meat
2. chimpanzees have taken unguarded human babies and eaten them (Uganda)
3. chimpanzees form patrols to go out and look for other chimps in their territory, and then will beat these chimps to death (not to eat).

Other than knowing how to use a stick, tendency towards violence for the sake of violence is something that we thought only humans had.

I also watched something on elephant rage. Where seemingly tame elephants turn on their owners and kill them.

Er. I think I would do the same too, if I had a bloody ball and chain tied to my hind leg which doesn't allow me to walk around my concrete room while thinking about how they killed my mother.

Rambling on.

I watch with half-amusement, half-amazement at this supposed "drama" unfolding with Singaporean bloggers. Oh man. I mean, seriously? Seriously!? Maciam highschoolmeangirlsbitchfest. Who's willing to bet a certain Ms Luo with ST will pick this up?

If so serious, file police report lor. heh.

Ok so here's the deal. I've been a real wreck the past two days. I've done nothing but to sit at home in some kind of completely paralysed state procrastinating on everything that I have to do (which is a lot) watching and downloading god knows how many episodes of Grey's Anatomy.

And I watch myself in this horrible state of what I call loserish-ness like some concerned, appalled third party, seeing myself growing more and more stressed at the amount of work which I fail to do and yet cannot still unable to find any will to do it.

Oh boy, I really wish they gave out prizes on procrastination. Then at least I'd have something to show for it.

And now, having wasted another day, I am so completely stressed out I resorted to a shot of tequila at FOUR in the afternoon.

This is all completely my fault. Lack of discipline, lack of self control, lack of a sense of responsibility.

And you know what? No matter how stressed I am ( I suspect it will get worse) I still don't care. My heart's racing, not because of too much coffee, but because I know all these FYP things I gotta do and haven't gotten around to doing, I'm ready to tear my hair out and yell at people, but I still don't care.

I'm not depressed or sad, I'm not in some kinda self-pitying state. I feel like I'm in some kind of state of denial, but I don't know denial over what.

Maybe I just need a good tight slap. I thought Shyam delivered that (in spirit) the last time, but I guess I'm so incorrigible I need it on a regular basis.

I love Grey's Anatomy.

I am so stressed right now something in my head's gonna blow!!

I'm not sure its such a good strategy to reassure myself that I actually will get to continue with my project AFTER i hand it in. DEADLINES stress me.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Baudrillard-ed

A whole lotta babbling to do. This is what happens after one day devoid of human contact!

But wait! First, a utterly useless piece of information: Dave Barry's brother, Phil, lives in Sunnyvale, California!


After spending half-a-day lazily scanning through books at the library, this is one which really left an impression:


by Philip Toledano

and this:


Kerry Skarbakka's series, "The Struggle to Right Oneself", Aperture's Summer 2005 issue.


BUT! The real bloody kicker of the day was the frenchie that terrorized me in Media Culture and Analysis class a year or so back. Simul-your-head-crum lah!

I picked up the book because my the smallish size of it looked easy to handle and I really was damn tired of all these enormous photo books with its sprawling photographs and immense waste of white space... but ya anyway... Luc Delahaye's L'autre :



A series of photographs of unknowing people in the French subway. Because I lack European sensabilities, I failed to appreciate it. Till I read Baudrillard's essay hidden at the back.

It was titled "Poetic Transference of Situation", which of course in any typical circumstances would be enough academic gibberish to make me close the book and throw it away in horror, because we all know I only bother entertaining gibberish like this and this.

But ya, thanks to that class, I remembered that Mr Frenchie (and all academics lah) has this incurable illness that makes him believe his otherwise coherant and rather intelligent observations will not be understood by the mass population unless he dresses them up in as many unnecessary words as possible so as to make easy reading an impossibility.

Anyway, I very much enjoyed his critcism of contemporary photography, which he claimed to be afflicted with "the image virus". Serious bashing.


He thinks Delahaye's work signifies a reversal of sorts, where "It's no longer, 'Reply to my questions' but, 'Tell me what questions I am to ask you.'"

Which contains a "glimmer of a solution to the problem of our notorious 'lack of communication', to the problem of the non-response of the Other.'

He goes on to explain, that we impose "forced signification" on what we photograph in an attempt "to ward off the emptiness and fragility of exchange".


"Few photographs escape this forced signification. Few photographs do not short-circuit the otherness of the object - that minimal chance of an upsurgance of otherness - by forcing a signification upon it or, in other words, by mediating it through an idea of one sort or another - in particular, the ideas of objective reality and testimony or witness."

Ok, nevermind, no need to go into his whole thing about what is reality blahblahbla

He says what we do now is a very "moralizing photography" which is "unable to render the real... it presents only the shameful version of it", "an abusive representation of that which does not wish to be represented."

Wah. Kenna bash.


"Contemporary photograph, operating as it does in the name of forced signification, knows only how to capture banality... in the guise of testimony, the photograph has become a security video..."


More bashing!

"..raiders and predators who plunder customs and cultures, faces and landscapes that are really none of their concern. Having nothing to do with them, they don't even really see them. And those who are to view their images do so in the same distant offhanded manner."

The solution? Along the lines of Delahaye's work:

"Good photography, in this way, takes its leave of misfortune and the aesthetics of misfortune to reveal what is neither of the order of morality nor of 'objective' conditions but remains indecipherable within each of us.... it bears no witness to anything."

Well, he's not really saying anything that new regarding objectivity/reality, but at least he offered an alternative.

Kenna Crystalled.

Woken up this morning from my post-Brewerkz high by a 6319 number... which turned out to be a Crystal from TNP, and not Malcolm begging me to go back to work. Dammit.

I swear I remember her saying she's Crystal NEO, but I only know of a Crystal CHAN... but anyway, she somehow knew about my trip to Banglaland, and she wanted me to comment on the recent Xiaxue Controversy (is there any other kind) regarding Bangladeshi workers.

Really, I thought that people should've learnt by now not to take ANYTHING that woman says seriously.

But yes, back to this Crystal journalist/reporter/writer person, I'm really sorry but you already pissed me off when you started your interview by saying you wanted to check if "rape and molest were common in Bangladesh" like you supposedly heard.

Oh my god! I had no idea I knowingly let myself travel to such a horribly barbaric country. What kind of an idiot to you have to be to let those words pass from your mouth?

Ok, nevermind. You aren't the only one who thinks like that anyway.

I admit I was sleepy and cannot remember properly the exact words. But I do remember:

- When I didn't answer your question like you'd expected, you were completely stumped, and proceeded to ask me again and again in the hope that I would give you a more positive answer.

"So were you ever harassed?"
"You were never harassed?"
"Did you walked on the streets by yourself?"
"SO.. you were never harassed?"

- You asked the most endearing questions ever.

"Why were you there?"
"I was on an internship"
"Oh, but why Bangladesh?"
"Because I wanted to try a new culture."
"Oh... but why Bangladesh?"

You're real cute, girl.


I think I went on a little rant about simplifying cultures and generalising an entire country based on a few.. but I really don't think that'll find its way into the papers.

"Oh so you think that Xiaxue was over-generalising when she said.... etc etc"
"Yes of course. And so are you."

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

I am damn uphip. Even my own father has been to the MOS.

Horrifying sms received at 6 pm:

"Ministry of Sound
Damn hip man drinks
on the house till 9 pm"

He called me, half an hour later, sounding a little bit lost, looking to speak to my mother. "Wah this place quite big ah?" Hiyah, its some official dinner function thingy lah.

My image of how things should be remains pretty simple, people should have food and a (solid) roof over their heads, a chance to go to school, and not be forced to do anything they don't want to do.

I'm aware of the perils of imposing one culture's standard of living upon another, and I'm really not about to go down that path.

And yes, of course acknowledged selfishness (and thus awareness and the ability to take control), is better than noble naivety.

But it still isn't enough for me. I can be pouring gratitude out of every pore as I take my picture and do my interviews, I can think and pray for them every night, and realise how much realise that they are so much better people than I am for letting me turn them into subjects...

Acknowledgement is the first step, of course. It does all those things you said, it keeps you humble, keeps your motives in check, you realise you aren't the matyr riding in on a white horse to save all these people. Of course not.

But then what? And, so what, really?

As I said, the boy in the picture, why would he care that i'm grateful that he let me take this photo?

The only person who feels good about this acknowledgement is ME.

So really, all this comes back to making yourself feel good about what you're doing, satisfying your conscience, alleviating your guilt.

I do actually have a point. I'm not putting journalism down for the sake of doing it. I'm exploring another option, one which seems to be the better thing for me to do, but I'm not sure of myself so I don't feel comfortable talking about it.

Anyway, I'm in no place to judge anyone else by myself. And of course, Ghim is right, we should all choose to change things the way we can. And may I just add, in the best way possible.

Jess changes her mind. Again.

Some day, I hope I will look back at all that I've written and note some PROGRESS.

My god, my belief in things are so amenable and temporary that it scares me. Even though it only includes the items that lie on the periphery of my belief system, and not my core values, its so utterly frustrating to have absolutely no faith in what you think is right, because you know you will prove yourself wrong sooner or later.

Anyway, the latest in Jess's ever shifting landscape of life, is that she's starting to think her head has perhaps been too high up in the clouds and obscured by all the pretty fluffy things.

Believing that I do journalism because I want to help?

The effectiveness of a photo or story is so utterly limited that I really don't know why I've been deceiving myself. Yes, of course there's always that slight chance of making an impact somewhere, but is that really enough to satisfy me?

I always used to reassure myself with the lasting words of Peter Fryer "You'll never change the world, let's not have any illusions. But for me, if somewhere out there someone's mind is changed, its enough for me."

Er, maybe just one mind is aiming a bit too low, doncha think? And so what a bloke in Europe now thinks that oh dear he'd better send off some money to Pakistan because the poor kids are in tents. Is that really all you hope to achieve? Or slog off my whole life to get that one earth-shattering-photo-of-the-year. Just one? Or maybe two?

Looking back at all the great photojournalists, yes they've done their part to raise awareness. But how much of what they did actually made a difference to the people they photographed? How much tangible help did the people receive?

If I'm poor and hungry, I don't give a damn if someone in Europe knows of my existence. That would really mean nothing to me. SEND ME FOOD. GIVE ME A JOB. ANYTHING but to become a discussion point over the dinner table.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you want to get things done, maybe its best you do it yourself.

And not through a pen/camera, not through your editor/website/newspaper/magazine. Through your own hands and sweat and everything.

My camera suddenly makes me feel selfish. Photography suddenly seems so selfish to me.


Will Update as my Mind shifts.

No, he really doesn't care what you think.

I don't want to go home. If I had it my way, I wouldn't want to spend a single festival/holiday at home.

The two Paks were happy to see me, but in the poor lighting conditions in their tent i couldn't really make out their faces.. but I think one of them had significantly more white hair this time.

Brought them some food items the next day. As I approached the tent, I realised that one of them was playing the radio, tuned into a Singaporean Malay language station. So he wasn't lying, after all, they did tune in to listen about Singapore after meeting me. It was really quite bizarre listening to Taufik being interviewed while sitting there.

I met up with Iskandar, a translator I met during our last trip, and I told him over dinner how stupid I felt to mull over the Ex while being surrounded by people who had much worthier things to mull over. I mean, I would take a pill if I could. And in the middle of my self-abusing rant, he just looked puzzled and said quite curiously, "But... you're only human."

Right.

The Cats Are Still Here.

At the IFRC camp surfing wirelessly. Nothing much has changed.



I'm so predictable.

Birthday, Schmirthday

"The important thing is that I kept up my special birthday tradition of gut-wrenching misery and horror." - Buffy, Helpless, S3

Erm. Not quite accurate, of course. I refer only to the fact that its 1:36 AM and I fly off at 8:40 AM and I am about to start packing.

Feel free to mock me!

See you soon.





No shit, Sherlock.

Cleaners

Cleaners
Originally uploaded by elsija.

The (incomplete) set is up.

In the (seemingly) never-ending quest in finding out who I am, and what I like, and what's my calling etc etc, I kinda realised yesterday photography for aesthetic reasons doesn't quite do it for me.

Of course, this is an entirely personal thing, since we all find meanings in different things.

But I realised, after looking a lot of online photo galleries, and my own things (all the cat stuff haa) that I just don't feel anything. Pretty is not good enough.

And its funny, because for once I was right about myself. I always told people that I wanted to do documentary photography, that it was my ideal and dream. But I figured, hey hell what do I know I haven't tried much.

Hm wait. I still haven't. But well, at least I'm one step surer of it.

I don't care if I managed to concoct a great set-up pose, or a great moment when this pigeon landed on an ashtray in the middle of a red room or whatever.

I think not doing serious work for a while made me realise something was missing from my photographs.




I know its terrible quality (PH DAMN YOUR CAMERA), not exactly the ideal angle, not exactly the best composition or lighting. But so what. This is what I want to do.

Meulaboh

I don't know how else to put this, but I'm going back to Meulaboh.

I'll be gone from the 20th to probably 27th, taking photos of whatever goes on there during the one-year anniversary for Mercy Relief.

There's a lot of things swimming in my head now, but nothing tangible enough to express. I've gone from overjoyed to extreme nervousness/anxiety to guilt and confusion - my head's quite fucked up now.

What I do know for sure, is that I'm beyond-words grateful. To the person who offered the lobang, to the people who have been happy for me, to the pix desk people who had every right to been as nasty as they wanted to but didn't, to Liwei who really has been so nice about the whole situation.

I really don't know what I've done in my past life to deserve all this luck.

I know of more deserving people out there who don't get quite as many breaks as I do. Why do I get so many chances in life? It makes me get complacent sometimes, and yet I'm always constantly aware.

Its the reason why I feel guilty for ever feeling down or sad. Why I only whine to a select few people who understand me because I don't think others will tolerate it since I have nothing to whine about. Why I feel so ridiculous mulling over an ex.

Once, in Bangladesh, when I was feeling less-than-happy, I forced myself to sit down and write out all the blessings I could think off. I don't remember how long the list got, but I think I made the point to myself.

I try really hard to have an attitude befitting of my life, but sometimes I fail. Ok fine, a lot of the times, I fail.

I don't know what people will think about this, but I've already spoken in person to those who mattered and I (hope) know what they think, so that's all I care about.

This trip means more to me than I can explain. And I just want to say again that I'm very very grateful.

Ladies and gents, PMS is hitting real bad this month.

Take care y'all.

Here's a little treat:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-6802438413010363103&q=russell+peters

Quote of the day on MSN:

"Anyway, I have to clear the studio of inflatable sex toys now, they've got to use it for something else." - Lars

I hope I will be around on the day they fill the ST studio with inflatable sex toys.

The rest of the fire-walking photos are up. Couldn't do a lot with post-editing, because of the fantastic D1 quality, and plus I forgot to fix the white balance before shooting, and colour correcting this kind of intense tungsten lighting is way out of my photoshopping capabilities. So ya, everything is YELLOW.

I want to go Haw Par Villa to take photos, inspired by my APJ classmate who did an essay on the place. Beautiful photos. Any interested people? Another APJ-orgy of sorts?


Everynight I am tempted to take Sedil, Bangladesh's version of Valium (same ingredient), which I bought to use on Kitty during the flight back. I read the information sheet, I know how much I can take etc etc.

I know it's not right to rely on it as a sleeping pill, but I'm sick and tired of dreaming and waking up feeling as if I never slept at all, and this pill really does knock me out. Or maybe its just a psychological thing.

NO i'm NOT depressed, I've only taken maybe 5 since I came back in June so i'm not addicted or anything. Plus I only have a couple left, should "save up".

I've no idea how much Valium costs in Singapore, but I can assure you it was dirt cheap in Bangladesh, and I bought it at the drug store without a prescription. Apparently, everyone there has taken it at some time or other. Hm.

Push back!

Would like to pledge my undying support for Tym's PUSH BACK campaign.

Because idiots who do not understand 'if i don't get off, you don't get in' really ought to just shove it.

And here I'd like to appeal to everyone with a handy camera, to anticipate and position yourself when you're about to get off and SNAP a picture of the ensuing chaos in all its fugly glory.

I noticed that the ratio of people getting off : getting on always tends to be 1:2 because there's only be a single file of people squeezing off in the middle, flanked by idiots on either side who think they're SO skinny as to be able to nudge their way in without imposing on others.

In all honesty, I don't think that these people are stupid. I think some magical wave of ignorance lives at the entrance of every MRT station and is set in motion when the number of people near it exceeds 10, and it leaps off from the top of the door into the minds of the hapless people outside, numbing their self-consciousness and turning them into temporary zombies whose sole purpose is repeated like a bad record in their heads.. must get in, must get in, must get in....

Fight the zombies! PUSH BACK.


(NEXT UP: MOVE IN - How to use non-verbal cues and body language to tell the standing people on the bus that their ass is NOT skinny and the centre aisle is NOT wide enough for three and how there is NO ghost at the back of the bus so really its quite safe to move in.)

The PR effect

I don't know if my letter below makes sense, because I typed it out in a hurry. But I hope they print it.

But if you guys would be so kind as to look at the Forum today (Sat), Ms Elaine Pong has gotten herself into a bit of a pickle. At least with me lah.

The "stray dog problem is complex and multifactorial" WHAT THE FUCK? Please lah, shoot me if I end up in PR. Wait, no need, I'll shoot myself.



Forum Editor,

I write in response to Ms Elaine Pong's letter, "Not practical to replace culling with sterilisation" (ST, Dec 10).

I would just like to ask about the effectiveness of the AVA's lethal-sounding "multi-pronged" approach over these years. If culling is practical and impossible to remove as one of the "prongs", the assumption is that it makes such a great difference that without it the stray animal population would be out of control.

If so, the practicality and effectiveness of culling would surely have yielded some results after so many years of its implementation.

And if it had indeed been successful, then I would not be wrong to assume that the stray animal population is now controllable, and we can now make do without killing/culling these animals, and instead direct our efforts towards the arguably more humane re-homing and steralisation methods.

I hope I do not wrongly assume that the AVA would be eager to stop having to kill these animals.

However, if the AVA cannot do away with culling because the animal population is still not under control, then perhaps it is a bit of a problem to claim that your current method is "practical" and effective. Changing strategies, and having the support of passionate and rather fervant animal-lovers is surely another viable path?

Surely, the AVA does not wish to have to continue answering the public's questions on why they are culling animals 10, 20 years from now.

Jessica Lim

Its always very heartbreaking to find out another cat has gone missing overnight.

And even more so when you find out that the people responsible for their deaths are those who actually do love cats, just that they're a bit stupid and don't clean up or leave such a horrible mess that it makes residents complain.

Stupid, stupid.

Well, ph FINALLY passed me my photos from the fire walking all-nighter photography stint so I've uploaded a bit of the stuff. And he saw THE cat, so please ask him how damn cute it is.

I'm constantly astounded by the number of bruises that appear on me without me realising it. Am I a thick-skinned klutz? Is this a disease? Why do I bruise so much? Is it the job?

I had two assignments today, one at a yacht club facing the sea, and the other at a newly opened spa. So my working mood was totally ruined because I felt I was on some kind of holiday.

Man, I miss the sea. Even though it frightens me, and I'd never have the guts to go sailing alone.

And I tried to picture myself as one of those people with large amounts of disposable cash spending $300 on a spa thing. And as much as I'd like to think be a simple and unmaterialistic person, I'm not going to be such an idiot to pretend that I don't like to be pampered. For free lah, maybe.

Typically not very comfortable with wide, cluttered shots, but I like this one for some reason. See the set! Even though its not complete.. i'll finish it when it isn't a struggle to keep my eyes open.

Have a nice day everyone.

Cheryl Tan 1974-2005

I've just returned from the cremation ceremony of a relative, and I am tired because I didn't sleep and was doing the traditional chinese shou ye (nightwatch).

There's nothing I can say that people wouldn't already know. Yes it was sad, no parent should have to bury their own child, I wonder if someone will look into whether the hospital was negligent, but we're all very lucky to have a huge family that rallies round with playing cards and nonsense talk when its needed the most.

But, at the risk of writing something politically incorrect due to my current state of irritability, I would like to say that I did not appreciate being preached/evangelised to during the wake last night, and before the cremation this morning.

I respect all religions, I respect that she was a Christian, and a devout one at that. I do not mind listening to hymns and prayers and the pastor/priest telling us that she's happy in the safe hands of the Lord Jesus Christ.

And in all likelihood, this is what Mei Mei would have wanted anyway, and that's fine.

So then, I don't know why I bristled during their speeches. I know that this religion is all about putting God above everything else. But I thought we were supposed to be remembering Cheryl, and not the God she worshipped. I wondered why 80% of their speeches revoled around how Jesus sacrificed himself, how God is the only way, how those who embrace him need not fear death, and how he's the answer to the meaning of life etc etc... What about Cheryl? But I suppose, its all the same to them anyway. Doing the work of God, and all that.

Whatever makes her happy.

It could also be because I was being a bitch, and I did not like what I (subjectively) perceived to be smug look of know-it-allness on their faces and the tone of their voice. And how that lady constantly referred to her as "our late sister Cheryl". Yes, we get the idea. The word 'late' started to get very redundant after a while.

I'm very sorry for all this negative feelings Mei Mei, but just to make things clear, its not towards your God or your religion.


I wonder if I was supposed to dream about you that night. Why me, of all people? I was never particularly close to you. All your siblings had that puzzled look, as if wondering, why not in my dreams? Why hers? Or is it because I thought about you too much?

So many ways of looking at this. Please visit them too ok? I think they all want to see the same smile you showed me, it'd put them at ease.

My weekend.

Some self-explanatory, but not quite linked, photos from over the weekend:



Mom clocked 5:52 this year.

Terrifying conversation:
Mom: "No more, no more, please don't let me do this again next year."
Mom's friend: "Can lah! You retire, then your daughter takes over your place!"

You've got to be kidding.





The mandatory cat photo.

Just wanted to show off Kitty's tail. It'd win itself some awards at those fancy shmancy pet shows, I'm sure of it.















This is the kind of photo that can break a man's career. To be fair, he only looked like this for 0.1% of the time. Taken at Think Centre's forum for the upcoming Human Rights Day. Dismal turn out, even more dismal discussion. Seriously, other than the speakers, no one made a single intelligent point at all.

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I actually filled in plenty of these quizzes/memes/lists things without posting them. But as ghim the birthday girl said.. keep the ball rolling!

Five snacks I enjoy:
(i'm not a snacking person so this is difficult)
grape-flavoured Fruitips
the round fish-ball cracker thingys
grapes
"original" potato chips
all fried items

Five songs I know by heart:
Raining on the Sky - Naked
The Space Between - DMB
Run, Baby, Run - Sheryl Crow
On that Street Where you Live - Nat King Cole version
Blower's Daughter - Damien Rice

Five things I would do with a million dollars:
buy a digital camera and a better Mac
send my mom to the Boston Marathon, and my Dad to an African safari
set up an animal shelter
send money to buy the two Paks and Sufia a house
buy my way into the National Geographic

Five favourite shows:
BUFFY
Seinfeld

Five bad habits:
procrastinating
thinking too much
worrying too much
talking too much
sleeping late

Five biggest joys:
being with animals
snorkeling
early mornings (as the beginning of a day and not the end)
getting that one special photo
family dinners

Names you go by:
jess
jessica
girl
dengli

Parts of your heritage:
er... negri sembilanian??? punggolian??

Things that scare you:
dying
false promises

Two everyday essentials:
food and water (nothing else is essential leh)

Five things you are wearing right now:
rubber band
clothes
a tired look, because this list is longer than expected

Two favourite bands/ musical artists:
DMB
U2

Two things you want in a relationship:
honesty
commitment

Two truths:
I don't know myself very well
I don't read people very well

Two physical things that appeal:
Eyes
Lean and toned physique

Four favourite hobbies:
reading
eating
watching entire seasons of sitcoms
sitting in wide open spaces without concrete in sight

Two things you want really badly:
for my FYP to be done and over with
for me to stop mulling over the Ex

Two places you want to go on vacation:
Any place where I can see whales (and zoos don't count)
Any other place where I can see any other animals (and zoos don't count)

Two things you want to do before you die:
Swim next to a whale/manta ray/shark
Go trekking on horseback alone

Two ways you are stereotypically a chick/guy
I talk/think/worry too much
I am emotional

Two things that you normally won't admit
Sometimes I'm nice just to make myself feel less guilty

Two things you are thinking about right now
Why I'm such a bitch for the reason stated above
How I really should stop doing that

Two stores you shop at:
I don't shop, so I can't answer this



Is it weird that I had to think very hard to answer a lot of these questions? Wah lau.