Absurdities as a career is something I'd always considered.
After years of trying to explain what Trigger Happy TV is.. well. Please watch this.
And specially for GQ, what we will spend days watching when FYP is over:
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Just to share a bit of prose that made me stop breathing.
---
Úrsula wondered if it was not preferable to lie down once and for all in her grave and let them throw the earth over her, and she asked God, without fear, if he really believe that people were made of iron in order to bear so many troubles and mortifications; and asking over and over she was stirring up her own confusion and she felt irrepressible desires to let herself go and scamper about like a foreigner and allow herself at last an instant of rebellion, that instant yearned for so many times and so many times postponed, putting her resignation aside and shitting on everything once and for all and drawing out of her heart the infinite stacks of bad words that she had been forced to swallow over a century of conformity.
"Shit!" she shouted.
Amaranta, who was starting to put the clothes into the trunk, thought she had been bitten by a scorpion.
"Where is it?" she asked in alarm.
"What?"
"The bug!" Amaranta said.
Úrsula put a finger on her heart.
"Here," she said.
- Márquez
---
This is why I want to learn Spanish.
---
Úrsula wondered if it was not preferable to lie down once and for all in her grave and let them throw the earth over her, and she asked God, without fear, if he really believe that people were made of iron in order to bear so many troubles and mortifications; and asking over and over she was stirring up her own confusion and she felt irrepressible desires to let herself go and scamper about like a foreigner and allow herself at last an instant of rebellion, that instant yearned for so many times and so many times postponed, putting her resignation aside and shitting on everything once and for all and drawing out of her heart the infinite stacks of bad words that she had been forced to swallow over a century of conformity.
"Shit!" she shouted.
Amaranta, who was starting to put the clothes into the trunk, thought she had been bitten by a scorpion.
"Where is it?" she asked in alarm.
"What?"
"The bug!" Amaranta said.
Úrsula put a finger on her heart.
"Here," she said.
- Márquez
---
This is why I want to learn Spanish.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
I feel fat.
Oh. My. Lord.
This cat's waist is bigger than mine. 31 inches. Poor kitty. I am terrified my cat will become her because I can't stop feeding her. But judging by the way she still does her crazy midnight sprints around the house, I think I'll get fat before she does.
---
There is really little wonder why I absolutely HATE taking photos in club/bar/pub settings. My god if you want to take pictures go to, like, the singapore river, or something.
I am wondering if the stress of FYP will increase or decrease the number that turn up next Thursday. On one hand being forced to face discussion about "so how's your fyp", and on the other.. well. Beer.
And I sincerely hope none of the Year 3s show up this time, for the very simple reason that the Brewerkz function room is SMALL and tables and chairs are limited.
---
Emelia (yes she's back) and I vegetated in front of the television watching "America's Number ONE pageant.. THE SWAN" while finishing one regular hawaiian pan pizza and one cheesy lava3 pepperoni pizza, pepsi and garlic bread.
Now, I know that I'm not fat, but it is quite something to be so utterly full that you can't suck it in even if you tried.
Pizzas, like nasi briyani, is one of those things that I can eat forever and ever.
There must've been something in the pizzas, because we were bitter, bitter people watching that show.
"I think they spent so much on all their operations and surgeries they had to like buy the evening gowns wholesale from some hooker."
"She looks like page 3 on a catalogue for eastern european brides."
"She's cute, in a barbie doll way."
"I wonder if her Dad praises her new boobs like he does her new-found self confidence."
Oh dear. At one point, the host of the show (who has the most bizzare accent which is actually irish but sounds newzealandish-british-american) said something like:
"The ladies will be judged on beauty, poise and overall transformation. What better way to show that than to put these women into a swimsuit and highheels and have them walk for us!"
Really! I no bluff!
Aiyah, should know better than to watch a bloody pageant.
Last note: Trying to trace my 10-year around-the-world journey is turning out to be damn difficult even though I'm only fantasizing. There's no way to do it without backtracking and thus losing valuable time!
This cat's waist is bigger than mine. 31 inches. Poor kitty. I am terrified my cat will become her because I can't stop feeding her. But judging by the way she still does her crazy midnight sprints around the house, I think I'll get fat before she does.
---
There is really little wonder why I absolutely HATE taking photos in club/bar/pub settings. My god if you want to take pictures go to, like, the singapore river, or something.
I am wondering if the stress of FYP will increase or decrease the number that turn up next Thursday. On one hand being forced to face discussion about "so how's your fyp", and on the other.. well. Beer.
And I sincerely hope none of the Year 3s show up this time, for the very simple reason that the Brewerkz function room is SMALL and tables and chairs are limited.
---
Emelia (yes she's back) and I vegetated in front of the television watching "America's Number ONE pageant.. THE SWAN" while finishing one regular hawaiian pan pizza and one cheesy lava3 pepperoni pizza, pepsi and garlic bread.
Now, I know that I'm not fat, but it is quite something to be so utterly full that you can't suck it in even if you tried.
Pizzas, like nasi briyani, is one of those things that I can eat forever and ever.
There must've been something in the pizzas, because we were bitter, bitter people watching that show.
"I think they spent so much on all their operations and surgeries they had to like buy the evening gowns wholesale from some hooker."
"She looks like page 3 on a catalogue for eastern european brides."
"She's cute, in a barbie doll way."
"I wonder if her Dad praises her new boobs like he does her new-found self confidence."
Oh dear. At one point, the host of the show (who has the most bizzare accent which is actually irish but sounds newzealandish-british-american) said something like:
"The ladies will be judged on beauty, poise and overall transformation. What better way to show that than to put these women into a swimsuit and highheels and have them walk for us!"
Really! I no bluff!
Aiyah, should know better than to watch a bloody pageant.
Last note: Trying to trace my 10-year around-the-world journey is turning out to be damn difficult even though I'm only fantasizing. There's no way to do it without backtracking and thus losing valuable time!
Visual Hope
When I awoke and tottered around the house in a sleepy stupor, where reality was still another dreamland I had not quite settled into - I saw the cover of today's Home section which said "Going smiling into the night" and I saw LKY's big smiling face plastered across I actually thought for a few seconds that it was he who died and not S Rajaratnam.
Why on earth did they pick that photo!?
Bizarre.
Why on earth did they pick that photo!?
Bizarre.
Monday, February 20, 2006
FYP be Damned
"To be concealed, protected, guarded, that is all I have ever truly wanted, to burrow down into a place of womby warmth and cower there, hidden from the sky's indifferent gaze and the harsh air's damagings. That is why the past is just such a retreat for me, I go there eagerly, rubbing my hands and shaking off the cold present and the colder future. And yet, what existence, really, does it have, the past? After all, it is only what the present was, once, the present that is gone, no more than that. And yet." - The Sea.
When I am stressed, I either fantasize about the future or think about the past. Anything to enter the Land of Escapism, of which I am its Queen.
And I guess because I've done the former, that I find my brain moving back to, where else, Banglaland.
Oh to drink tea on a street corner again.
------------------------------------
I had not been in a socially awkward situation for a long time, until this afternoon. Something about being surrounded by strangers in a place that I had no business to be in.
I suppose it was rather odd for me, one of them remarked my face was white, which it was, but not because I was scared, but perhaps just completely nervous by virtue of being the odd one out. I recognised more than half of them either from the work they had done or simply because they're a friend of a friend. So it was a strange situation of knowing, yet not knowing.
But I am utterly grateful that everyone has been remarkably patient with my endless questions on printingpaperhangingmountinglaminationprintersexhibitingblahblahblah. Had to put on thicker skin, but I seem to be growing into it quite nicely.
One fine day, when I am finally in a better place (professionally) I will invite all the people who have patiently helped me to a nice nice buffet. A certain Uncle KC will obviously be at the head of the table. Even if it takes me 10 years to have enough finances to finance such a big meal, I will!
I hope they show up, though.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
MoSi
He came over to Singapore from Morocco in 1999.
Are you a Singaporean? He enquired in that earnest manner, trying hard not to seem rude for asking a customer a personal question. His demeanor made me smile.
I affirmed it was true, and he looked slightly surprised.
His little cafe is by far the most modest out of the lot scattered about Arab St. Some of the others have ethnic decorations spilling out all over the place, candles and cushions, little trinkets and precious-looking ashtrays. They play their music too loud, and through the windows of one I saw an iPod connected to speakers sitting on a bar counter.
In MoSi, the CD frequently skips. "Morocco and Singapore, so MoSi," he once explained. Aside from the various hookahs placed out front, the only thing that looks vaguely Moroccan are three photographs cut out from magazines which have been framed and hung on the far wall inside the cafe.
I asked if it was he who took the photographs.
"Oh no." A pause.
"Look, this is a man making bread, in the mountains you know?" He uttered a foreign phrase which I could not catch.
"And here, a little girl looking at something. Are you leaving already? I just started heating up more charcoal for you."
It was his footsteps that intruiged me the most at first. More honest than meek, he had the stride of someone who did not want to walk too fast or go too far in case he was stopped for doing so.
----------------------
First set of photos from the last Meulaboh trip. All taken at the mass graves on 26th December, 2005 after the mass prayers. It was 11am-1pm, harshest lighting conditions, and I could not possibly use flash in the face of these people. Well, I guess I could, but I didn't want to.
Are you a Singaporean? He enquired in that earnest manner, trying hard not to seem rude for asking a customer a personal question. His demeanor made me smile.
I affirmed it was true, and he looked slightly surprised.
His little cafe is by far the most modest out of the lot scattered about Arab St. Some of the others have ethnic decorations spilling out all over the place, candles and cushions, little trinkets and precious-looking ashtrays. They play their music too loud, and through the windows of one I saw an iPod connected to speakers sitting on a bar counter.
In MoSi, the CD frequently skips. "Morocco and Singapore, so MoSi," he once explained. Aside from the various hookahs placed out front, the only thing that looks vaguely Moroccan are three photographs cut out from magazines which have been framed and hung on the far wall inside the cafe.
I asked if it was he who took the photographs.
"Oh no." A pause.
"Look, this is a man making bread, in the mountains you know?" He uttered a foreign phrase which I could not catch.
"And here, a little girl looking at something. Are you leaving already? I just started heating up more charcoal for you."
It was his footsteps that intruiged me the most at first. More honest than meek, he had the stride of someone who did not want to walk too fast or go too far in case he was stopped for doing so.
----------------------
First set of photos from the last Meulaboh trip. All taken at the mass graves on 26th December, 2005 after the mass prayers. It was 11am-1pm, harshest lighting conditions, and I could not possibly use flash in the face of these people. Well, I guess I could, but I didn't want to.
Under a Streetlamp.
"Rough? You mean like.. not smooth?"
You'd think that a Reuters-employed chick would know better. Even in our various vegetative state we were all appalled.
There is something about the light from streetlamps that makes everything unreal. And I can think about whatever I want, and imagine myself doing whatever I want to do without a tinge of impossibility or cynicism.
Right now, I am looking at a world map, and a 10-year journey around the world is starting to take root in my brain and I think I will not be forgetting this fantasy for a long time.
- GQ enters the zone of irrelevance amidst shisha smoke.
You'd think that a Reuters-employed chick would know better. Even in our various vegetative state we were all appalled.
There is something about the light from streetlamps that makes everything unreal. And I can think about whatever I want, and imagine myself doing whatever I want to do without a tinge of impossibility or cynicism.
Right now, I am looking at a world map, and a 10-year journey around the world is starting to take root in my brain and I think I will not be forgetting this fantasy for a long time.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
EMJEM
I am pleased.
Eat Me. Just Eat Me.
Its a nice day, my friends (or at least it will be when he straightens out his links).
Eat Me. Just Eat Me.
Its a nice day, my friends (or at least it will be when he straightens out his links).
Thursday, February 16, 2006
It sure is nice to know that I'm not one of the "50,000 non-Malays" who watch Dia on Suria.
And that Mediacorp will allow me to join new reality show on Suria as long as I can speak Malay, even if I am a "non-Malay".
Dudes. Seriously. Talk about drawing a line.
------------------------
The totally unoriginal and shamelessly pirated Obiang Party looks set to go. If It really does happen, I will credit the amazing people who did it first, and then show them how it's REALLY done.
I am not HIP. I steal and don't Honour Intellectual Property.
But the hunt is on for a suitably Obiang venue. My house would totally qualify, except that I consulted Cat and Cat said No, I'm sure You can find Someone's Else's House to ruin.
Oh my gawd people, this is, like, so totally JC man.
You should start thinking of what to wear. Its not quite as easy as you'd think. For inspiration, look towards your parent's old photo albums. Go back... WAY back till you reach the point where the laughter becomes shock. Then you'd know you got the right era.
If you don't have any photos, however, please feel free to look to real life examples at this website:
Singapore Members of Parliament
For starters: This guy, this guy and this guy. And of course, The King.
In fact, if anyone asks where I got this idea I'll just say I was inspired by the optical-wear of our Members of Parliament.
And that Mediacorp will allow me to join new reality show on Suria as long as I can speak Malay, even if I am a "non-Malay".
Dudes. Seriously. Talk about drawing a line.
------------------------
The totally unoriginal and shamelessly pirated Obiang Party looks set to go. If It really does happen, I will credit the amazing people who did it first, and then show them how it's REALLY done.
I am not HIP. I steal and don't Honour Intellectual Property.
But the hunt is on for a suitably Obiang venue. My house would totally qualify, except that I consulted Cat and Cat said No, I'm sure You can find Someone's Else's House to ruin.
Oh my gawd people, this is, like, so totally JC man.
You should start thinking of what to wear. Its not quite as easy as you'd think. For inspiration, look towards your parent's old photo albums. Go back... WAY back till you reach the point where the laughter becomes shock. Then you'd know you got the right era.
If you don't have any photos, however, please feel free to look to real life examples at this website:
Singapore Members of Parliament
For starters: This guy, this guy and this guy. And of course, The King.
In fact, if anyone asks where I got this idea I'll just say I was inspired by the optical-wear of our Members of Parliament.
I am evidently grouchy today.
Anyone who still thinks that PMS is a figment of our fickle female imagination - you come see me. Now.
You won't actually get to speak to me (not that you'd want to, trust me), but you will receive a list of numbers to call to speak to people who will provide convincing accounts of real life experiences.
And real life accounts, my friends, is king as far as this shitty society is concerned. Dogbert said so.
Dogbert: "Oh I've something much better than proof. Anecdotal evidence."
Dilbert: "Who would be dumb enough to believe anecdotal evidence?"
Dogbert: "Oh I've narrowed my target market to... people?"
Dilbert: "I've got news for you, we people are smarter than we look."
Dogbert: "So how hard would that be, really."
The HSBC ad on the front page of Home section today. For the benefit of working journalists, or one of other types of people who don't read the newspaper, it featured two photographs of a man having dinner with two different women.
Buy one dinner, get the next free. Something like that.
There is something to be said about this, but it just occured to me that if the tables were turned (one woman - two men) I would be laughing.
Today's papers also had a picture of a anti-government protest in Bangladesh. I would like to say that hartel days were the best days because I could go to work late. Also, I could take a rickshaw right from my doorstep and not have to walk to the opposite street because no one drove on hartel days and the rickshaw restrictions on the roads were lifted. Oh, and that hartels were always announced the day before in the major newspapers.
Back in the old days, she loved walking all over the iBook and sitting in front of the screen while I devoured entire seasons of sitcoms.
Some people think that cats are evil.
Nothing cute about this picture, that's all I can say.
You won't actually get to speak to me (not that you'd want to, trust me), but you will receive a list of numbers to call to speak to people who will provide convincing accounts of real life experiences.
And real life accounts, my friends, is king as far as this shitty society is concerned. Dogbert said so.
Dogbert: "Oh I've something much better than proof. Anecdotal evidence."
Dilbert: "Who would be dumb enough to believe anecdotal evidence?"
Dogbert: "Oh I've narrowed my target market to... people?"
Dilbert: "I've got news for you, we people are smarter than we look."
Dogbert: "So how hard would that be, really."
-Season 4, The Fact
The HSBC ad on the front page of Home section today. For the benefit of working journalists, or one of other types of people who don't read the newspaper, it featured two photographs of a man having dinner with two different women.
Buy one dinner, get the next free. Something like that.
There is something to be said about this, but it just occured to me that if the tables were turned (one woman - two men) I would be laughing.
Today's papers also had a picture of a anti-government protest in Bangladesh. I would like to say that hartel days were the best days because I could go to work late. Also, I could take a rickshaw right from my doorstep and not have to walk to the opposite street because no one drove on hartel days and the rickshaw restrictions on the roads were lifted. Oh, and that hartels were always announced the day before in the major newspapers.
Back in the old days, she loved walking all over the iBook and sitting in front of the screen while I devoured entire seasons of sitcoms.
Some people think that cats are evil.
Nothing cute about this picture, that's all I can say.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Karma
After reading my previous entries : I'm so sorry Tym, my grammar is horrible. But alas! Have decided to rely on sub editors forever instead of doing it right.
--------------
Karma's a bitch, and she bites on V-day.
Somehow, the fact that I have no feelings whatsoever for Mr Engineer increases the "mocking" factor of the situation - because it makes the lying seem even more senseless.
Seated outdoors in HV with my legs curled up underneath and my iBook, a book, blueberry muffin, iced latte and smokes laid out neatly in front, looking out for the biggest bouquet... it really was such a nicely normal afternoon.
Till I see Mr Engineer and his date stroll by.
Walking along HV has got to be the most ingenious way to take a scuba lesson ever!
We didn't even have any kind of commitment to speak of - why on earth concoct such an elaborate excuse peppered with heartfelt-sounding apologies? Scuba lessons?? You are ridiculous.
I apologise in advance for the unnecessarily sarcastic sms you will inevitably receive sooner or later.
Well! That's that.
-----------------
Not enough bitterness? Need to get depressed? PostSecret has a V-Day special.
Oh dear. You've been warned.
--------------
Karma's a bitch, and she bites on V-day.
Somehow, the fact that I have no feelings whatsoever for Mr Engineer increases the "mocking" factor of the situation - because it makes the lying seem even more senseless.
Seated outdoors in HV with my legs curled up underneath and my iBook, a book, blueberry muffin, iced latte and smokes laid out neatly in front, looking out for the biggest bouquet... it really was such a nicely normal afternoon.
Till I see Mr Engineer and his date stroll by.
Walking along HV has got to be the most ingenious way to take a scuba lesson ever!
We didn't even have any kind of commitment to speak of - why on earth concoct such an elaborate excuse peppered with heartfelt-sounding apologies? Scuba lessons?? You are ridiculous.
I apologise in advance for the unnecessarily sarcastic sms you will inevitably receive sooner or later.
Well! That's that.
-----------------
Not enough bitterness? Need to get depressed? PostSecret has a V-Day special.
Oh dear. You've been warned.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
The Sea is haunting me. It is haunting me everywhere I go. Touching the book makes me uncomfortable.
I had intially typed a long and deliberately bitter entry about the various idiotic love dedications I've heard on the radio since 9 am in the morning, then I realised it was my own fault for not switching it off, and bitterness never did agree with me unless its displayed by George from Seinfeld.
So, if cannot fight then join lor. In the name of mush and unrealistic expectations from fellow human beings: I wish that I can meet someone who will be able to have a conversation with me and never let me win an argument by his sheer intelligence and unbeatable logic. A lot of people just give up trying to argue because they can see that I won't agree without a fight.
I met someone like that once, just one person so far, and that was years ago in JC. So I do know they exist.
I wasted a wish the other day. I had an eyelash, and I had heard that there was a time limit "HURRY HURRY WISH AND BLOW" and I really have quite a long list which I cannot recall at will or under pressure so I ended up making some kinda generic world-peace wish. I should have a ready list of specific wishes next time.
And I don't have birthday cakes anymore, and shooting stars are not visible from here... so. Eyelashes are all I got.
I had intially typed a long and deliberately bitter entry about the various idiotic love dedications I've heard on the radio since 9 am in the morning, then I realised it was my own fault for not switching it off, and bitterness never did agree with me unless its displayed by George from Seinfeld.
So, if cannot fight then join lor. In the name of mush and unrealistic expectations from fellow human beings: I wish that I can meet someone who will be able to have a conversation with me and never let me win an argument by his sheer intelligence and unbeatable logic. A lot of people just give up trying to argue because they can see that I won't agree without a fight.
I met someone like that once, just one person so far, and that was years ago in JC. So I do know they exist.
I wasted a wish the other day. I had an eyelash, and I had heard that there was a time limit "HURRY HURRY WISH AND BLOW" and I really have quite a long list which I cannot recall at will or under pressure so I ended up making some kinda generic world-peace wish. I should have a ready list of specific wishes next time.
And I don't have birthday cakes anymore, and shooting stars are not visible from here... so. Eyelashes are all I got.
Monday, February 13, 2006
The Your-Heart-Will-Bui-Tahan Movie
My tear ducts are extra large and uncontrollable. So I'm used to crying at movies, even supposedly un-cryable ones like I Not Stupid Too.
But my god, this has gotta be some kinda record.
You know how typical tearjerker movies have some climatic scene at the end guranteed to bring on the tears with a crescendo of music, close-up of shimmering eyes/beautiful face, some extra poignant line etc etc ...
Well for this one, it got to the point where all I had to do was to look at their faces and I'd be sniffing. Even without any significant drama, exchanges, fights, or obviously cryable situations - one look at Jack's face was all it took.
Brokeback Mountain is serious shit.
So how did an audience of adults react to the onscreen depiction of love between two men?
Like 14 year-olds having their first sex ed class. Nervous laughter and twittering. One lone guy which I told to "shut up" although I was probably too soft.
But, I really hope I can say no one was twittering by the end of the movie.
I am very glad to have ended my day with this movie. After bitching non-stop about the barrage of commercialised love-messages on the radio, the walls, EVERYWHERE and feeling overall quite angsty at this loveloveloveloveisallaround - very nice break.
I cannot wait for tomorrow to be over.
Why they not Romancing Singapore this time? I don't remember hearing about it, and am too lazy to check. Must've failed. Or maybe they think no need already.
Oh. And I guessed right. Scrumptious Jake's a Saggi. That's two out of three guesses right this week!
I guessed Saggi because I watched him on Oprah, and his demeanor is like this :
But my god, this has gotta be some kinda record.
You know how typical tearjerker movies have some climatic scene at the end guranteed to bring on the tears with a crescendo of music, close-up of shimmering eyes/beautiful face, some extra poignant line etc etc ...
Well for this one, it got to the point where all I had to do was to look at their faces and I'd be sniffing. Even without any significant drama, exchanges, fights, or obviously cryable situations - one look at Jack's face was all it took.
Brokeback Mountain is serious shit.
So how did an audience of adults react to the onscreen depiction of love between two men?
Like 14 year-olds having their first sex ed class. Nervous laughter and twittering. One lone guy which I told to "shut up" although I was probably too soft.
But, I really hope I can say no one was twittering by the end of the movie.
I am very glad to have ended my day with this movie. After bitching non-stop about the barrage of commercialised love-messages on the radio, the walls, EVERYWHERE and feeling overall quite angsty at this loveloveloveloveisallaround - very nice break.
I cannot wait for tomorrow to be over.
Why they not Romancing Singapore this time? I don't remember hearing about it, and am too lazy to check. Must've failed. Or maybe they think no need already.
Oh. And I guessed right. Scrumptious Jake's a Saggi. That's two out of three guesses right this week!
I guessed Saggi because I watched him on Oprah, and his demeanor is like this :
Sunday, February 12, 2006
"But... but why plants?"
"Because they don't talk back."
- someone justifies spending S$2k on leaves and stems.
"Because they don't talk back."
- someone justifies spending S$2k on leaves and stems.
I kinda half-wish that I had seen this website earlier:
"Its a harsh world in the classroom. They want the right answers, I'm going to give them. "
That's the most passionate argument for cheating i've ever read. These kids are pretty darn ingenious, methinks.
The most I've cheated in school was to ask for the questions from the people in secondary school with chinese class before, then hurridly go memorize.
Well, that and looking at what colour precipitate other pple got in prac chem tests. I've been clean since the age of 16! Hooray.
Dream Log 4.21
She was the most special of them all. She was also the smallest, but the prettiest of the lot. Whenever I visited the place, I would look for her first at her mom's shop and her face would light up.
We had that kind of bond which required no words, only smiles.
And then one day, I returned after a year. Her sister looked so different - make up and earrings?? The shop was in shambles, everything was ill-placed and misaligned.
And I looked at her mother's weary face, and I knew. It was to be expected, she said, she had always been so sick.
The tears would not stop.
-----------------------------------------------
Okok question time!
Do you think it is possible to experience emotions in your dreams that you never experienced in real life?
I had always assumed that you only experience in your dreams what you already experienced in real life.
Meaning, if you had never tasted oysters, you won't be able to "find out" how they taste like in a dream. Impossible!
Ok, so for tangible items such as 'how an object looks like', 'the voice of a person', 'the taste of food', 'the feel of a type of texture' = these are stuff you gotta have done at least once in the Real World.
But what about emotions?
If you've never lost a loved one in real life, can you really find out how it feels like when it happens to you in a dream? Can I know how it feels like to be embarassed on stage when delivering a speech? Can I know what its feels like to be beaten up into a pulp? What about paralysis? Or being shot? Or to find out what it feels like to walk into your husband cheating on you?
All those vivid dreamers out there... think hard.
We had that kind of bond which required no words, only smiles.
And then one day, I returned after a year. Her sister looked so different - make up and earrings?? The shop was in shambles, everything was ill-placed and misaligned.
And I looked at her mother's weary face, and I knew. It was to be expected, she said, she had always been so sick.
The tears would not stop.
-----------------------------------------------
Okok question time!
Do you think it is possible to experience emotions in your dreams that you never experienced in real life?
I had always assumed that you only experience in your dreams what you already experienced in real life.
Meaning, if you had never tasted oysters, you won't be able to "find out" how they taste like in a dream. Impossible!
Ok, so for tangible items such as 'how an object looks like', 'the voice of a person', 'the taste of food', 'the feel of a type of texture' = these are stuff you gotta have done at least once in the Real World.
But what about emotions?
If you've never lost a loved one in real life, can you really find out how it feels like when it happens to you in a dream? Can I know how it feels like to be embarassed on stage when delivering a speech? Can I know what its feels like to be beaten up into a pulp? What about paralysis? Or being shot? Or to find out what it feels like to walk into your husband cheating on you?
All those vivid dreamers out there... think hard.
Friday, February 10, 2006
Cat Update:
Her daily stretch-and-claw. Claws have not been trimmed in a long while, and I have the scars and plasters to prove it. Bitch.
When I picked up a scabby flea-infested kitten, I did not expect to get a medium-length cat with fur so thick it makes her look twice her real size. Just look at how small her head is! It's all fluff.
On a bus full of sour-faced adults, its always nice to have another kid to play stupid-faces-games with. So much for being 23.
Her daily stretch-and-claw. Claws have not been trimmed in a long while, and I have the scars and plasters to prove it. Bitch.
When I picked up a scabby flea-infested kitten, I did not expect to get a medium-length cat with fur so thick it makes her look twice her real size. Just look at how small her head is! It's all fluff.
On a bus full of sour-faced adults, its always nice to have another kid to play stupid-faces-games with. So much for being 23.
Well, at least i'm not 25.
Just to repeat, the food at Shah Alam in Boat Quay is scrumptialicious.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
The Completely Honest Post
In other words, I talk about topics I usually wouldn't.
I found out recently that an acquaintance had a girlfriend, which is really none of my business except that the reason why I even know him is that we met at a club after which my friend slept over at his dorm room.
Ok, so its STILL none of my business.
But I still said something anyway, against all my so-called Asian non-confrontational-mind-your-own-business mentality.
I was trying out this new thing. Its called "Say Something If You Think Its Wrong". Its not very popular, for some reason, and I have been especially late in latching on to this.
I was quite polite I think, in bringing up the topic. I think I did the best I could.
"So, what does your girlfriend think about you bringing girls home?"
Maybe I should've thrown in a cutesy emoticon for good measure. But I didn't, because the real sentence was way more cute than the original unedited format which was "You are a cheating bastard and I hope you get what you deserve."
There was a bit of defence and justification, all of which sounds plausible enough. But hey, you don't need to justify yourself to me at all.
I said it because I felt strongly about it, and I didn't want to be caught in a situation 10 years down the road where someone tells me "Why you never say so earlier?".
Whether or not the person listens, is not really the point. I don't say these things to change people's minds anyway. They're still gonna do what they want to do. Free will!
But other people seem to think I was being a kaypoh, nosy bitch. Mr Engineer for instance, found it a bit difficult letting go of the "mind-my-own-business" mentality when it comes to guy friends and their sexual exploits.
I don't care. Someone's gotta be the bitch now and then anyway.
Mr Engineer continues to say things that make me do that blink - the one long, hard blink during which you think about whether to laugh or continue to look incredulous when your eyes open again.
Some of it are personal statements, such as "Yes I almost cried twice during the movie! What about you?". The others include titbits of facts about his country like "Yes the garbage collectors earn about S$26 per hour because of their unions."
I know i've mentioned this before, but there is something very unsettling about the Engineer. I used to think it was because he did not have a strong opinion in anything.. but now I'm not so sure.
I wonder if its the slight robotic-ness of his nature. How does one smile all the time? Something slightly Stepfordish perhaps?
I don't know.. I'm sure the right words will find me in time.
Nazrul was whisked away from the check-in counter to the entrance by the guy behind the counter who insisted on escorting him all the way till he was inside the damn place.
"I work here so many years I know all their tricks lah! Always switching bags so they don't have to pay excess luggage."
I found out recently that an acquaintance had a girlfriend, which is really none of my business except that the reason why I even know him is that we met at a club after which my friend slept over at his dorm room.
Ok, so its STILL none of my business.
But I still said something anyway, against all my so-called Asian non-confrontational-mind-your-own-business mentality.
I was trying out this new thing. Its called "Say Something If You Think Its Wrong". Its not very popular, for some reason, and I have been especially late in latching on to this.
I was quite polite I think, in bringing up the topic. I think I did the best I could.
"So, what does your girlfriend think about you bringing girls home?"
Maybe I should've thrown in a cutesy emoticon for good measure. But I didn't, because the real sentence was way more cute than the original unedited format which was "You are a cheating bastard and I hope you get what you deserve."
There was a bit of defence and justification, all of which sounds plausible enough. But hey, you don't need to justify yourself to me at all.
I said it because I felt strongly about it, and I didn't want to be caught in a situation 10 years down the road where someone tells me "Why you never say so earlier?".
Whether or not the person listens, is not really the point. I don't say these things to change people's minds anyway. They're still gonna do what they want to do. Free will!
But other people seem to think I was being a kaypoh, nosy bitch. Mr Engineer for instance, found it a bit difficult letting go of the "mind-my-own-business" mentality when it comes to guy friends and their sexual exploits.
I don't care. Someone's gotta be the bitch now and then anyway.
Mr Engineer continues to say things that make me do that blink - the one long, hard blink during which you think about whether to laugh or continue to look incredulous when your eyes open again.
Some of it are personal statements, such as "Yes I almost cried twice during the movie! What about you?". The others include titbits of facts about his country like "Yes the garbage collectors earn about S$26 per hour because of their unions."
I know i've mentioned this before, but there is something very unsettling about the Engineer. I used to think it was because he did not have a strong opinion in anything.. but now I'm not so sure.
I wonder if its the slight robotic-ness of his nature. How does one smile all the time? Something slightly Stepfordish perhaps?
I don't know.. I'm sure the right words will find me in time.
Nazrul was whisked away from the check-in counter to the entrance by the guy behind the counter who insisted on escorting him all the way till he was inside the damn place.
"I work here so many years I know all their tricks lah! Always switching bags so they don't have to pay excess luggage."
I wonder what he's doing now.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Shoop shop Shoop
Question. Which Cher is the real Cher?
NEITHER!
But hey, that was an easy one.
So then, tell me this: Which one is male?
I wonder what its like making a living pretending to be someone else.
NEITHER!
But hey, that was an easy one.
So then, tell me this: Which one is male?
I wonder what its like making a living pretending to be someone else.
------------
Let me tell you what it is like to be a chinese girl shopping with three Bangladeshi men at Mustafa Shopping Centre.
I followed Nazrul (who flies off to Bangladesh foreva and eva in about 8 hours) and gang to Mustafa on a last-minute shopping spree.
In the first half hour, he spent S$1,500++ on gold jewellery. I told him, in all seriousness, that I never had that figure in my bank account.
"Go find a job. Lah."
Right.
Anyway, the most standard response of people (99% sales staff) was to assume that I just happened to be standing behind the group. They would lean out slightly to take a better look at me, temporarily ignore the first-come-first-serve rule.
"Hello Miss, can I help you?"
Even when it was too obvious, they still thought that it would be safer to assume that I was on my own. I was standing between them at a counter, admiring a radio ("Only battery. No current. My house have no current.") for 15 minutes. Then later, I asked the sales guy, "You're giving them a new piece right?"
"Er.. yes. What about you Miss? Can I help you? Are you here to buy a radio too?"
Receipts and change immediately get handed to me after transactions even though I was not the one who forked out the cash, or the one who made the inquiry. In fact, I don't recall speaking much.
I was also accosted with a series of questions by a rude-looking Chinese delivery guy.
[In Mandarin] "Eh so why you following them ah? You're their tour guide ah? Oh I know, you're here to make sure they don't run off right??? Hahahahhaa. But hor, if they want to run, you also cannot stop them."
Dude.
I replied as neutrally possible, that no, I was not their tour guide, or their chaperon, I was their "friend".
Later on, the chinese guy got ribbed about talking to me. The (indian) guy over the counter asked "Why? he disturbing you ah?"
To which I said, "No, he just doesn't think its possible that they have friends who look like me."
Which in all fairness, is a damn unfair thing for me to say. Who am I to belittle his astonishment?
Let that be my one bad deed for the day.
And also, all the Chinese sales staff felt an urge to talk to me in Mandarin. Which I totally understand. I don't talk to taxi drivers in English, for some reason, and I'm always embarassed when I meet one which doesn't speak either Mandarin or dialect.
Photos will be posted in erm... half an hour.
Also, I woud like to print out a sign which reads:
"Dear fellow neighbours of Block 512. I would like to offer my symphathy to all those who have recently been hit with a crippling disease. I understand that it is this disease that forces you to crawl the few metres from your house to the lift landing to deposit your rubbish, often not contained in plastic bags, often strewn messily all over the place. I know that this is something which you would never do if you had the full use of your two legs. After all, we all know that it is such terribly hard work for four guys to have to go to every lift landing of 30 blocks everyday to clear rubbish.
Get well soon! #09-69"
Now I just need someone to translate it into Mandarin.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
All hands on deck!
Wah lau I damn scared man.
Don't be fooled by the Donald Duck playing cards. Zuxin is the most dangerous type of gambler - the one who just sit there quietly, slowly and sneakily amassing a fortune.
While the rest of us start looking to "secret stores" for extra emergency cash which we thought we would NEVER need.
On a VERY plus side, I learnt how to play poker tonight!
All that remains is bridge and mahjong. After that, i'll be completely qualified to be of some use at any social gathering.
Don't be fooled by the Donald Duck playing cards. Zuxin is the most dangerous type of gambler - the one who just sit there quietly, slowly and sneakily amassing a fortune.
While the rest of us start looking to "secret stores" for extra emergency cash which we thought we would NEVER need.
On a VERY plus side, I learnt how to play poker tonight!
All that remains is bridge and mahjong. After that, i'll be completely qualified to be of some use at any social gathering.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Cranium Central!
This is insane:
After about two and a half hours worth of this bloody thing yesterday, followed by what has got to be the most overhyped two games of Jenga, I walked out of Settler's Cafe utterly exhausted.
As in, after 6-hours-of-non-stop-clubbing-dehydrated-need-to-crash level of tiredness.
Why on earth would you play Cluedo or Risk when you have this!? Taboo is good too, but better if you're with a bunch of close friends so that all the personal innuendos can come into play. I really liked the artwork though... very Felix the Cat.
That was one disturbing cartoon man. I always felt very unsettled after watching it. And come to think of it, Felix reminds me of Sonic the Hedgehog. Ok, nevermind.
I realised having prata supper at Upp Thomson on a public holiday will allow you to bump into people from every bloody educational institute you've attended in your life. Except kindergarten.
After about two and a half hours worth of this bloody thing yesterday, followed by what has got to be the most overhyped two games of Jenga, I walked out of Settler's Cafe utterly exhausted.
As in, after 6-hours-of-non-stop-clubbing-dehydrated-need-to-crash level of tiredness.
Why on earth would you play Cluedo or Risk when you have this!? Taboo is good too, but better if you're with a bunch of close friends so that all the personal innuendos can come into play. I really liked the artwork though... very Felix the Cat.
That was one disturbing cartoon man. I always felt very unsettled after watching it. And come to think of it, Felix reminds me of Sonic the Hedgehog. Ok, nevermind.
I realised having prata supper at Upp Thomson on a public holiday will allow you to bump into people from every bloody educational institute you've attended in your life. Except kindergarten.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
The Maddening Crowd
(He's escaping from it all. Mentally.)
My family's reunion dinner is not for the faint of heart. Or hearing.
The noise decibels rises gradually through the night till it reaches an almost indecipherable crescendo of blaring tv+screaming children+men talking about football+women yakking+toys emitting sounds+others.
I only contribute to, like, half of that.
The lines of gender are clearly drawn though, and its something that frustrates me even though it seems perfectly natural enough. The women are really in the kitchen, the men sit and talk/watch soccer, the women later talk about losing weight and children, the men talk about shares and assets.
Which is why I absolutely adored Jia Ye who stood her ground amidst all the madness.
You're top notch alright.
Behold! The madness.
Hm ok, maybe you've to see around the corner to understand what I mean. (My family's into babies. I have a mountain-load of expectations on me to live up to) :
Not forgetting the other two camped out in front of the computer (plus the other 10 or so I'll see tomorrow.
But seriously, kids are great.
[Conversation when I tried to take over the game on the computer to chase them outside]
Reuben: But you never play this before!! Its very difficult one you know! Level 6 is very difficult!
Me: Nevermind, I can still try right?
Reagan: Try for what? You try you'll also die what.
With their kind of angst and inclination for nasty remarks, its no wonder JiaYe remains numero uno in my book. Boys. Tsk.
But ok, the other stuff. Like food!
I was planning to take a photo of the entire table with all the food, but 3 hours of waiting didn't really make anyone (including myself) less hungry and I really couldn't be bothered at that time. So this will have to do. Ingredients for steamed fish, teochew style.
Apparently, my grandma buys and cooks entire ducks and chickens by herself. I always thought she bought 'em from somewhere.
You know what that is? Big-ass prawns soon to be turned into absolutely unhealthy, deep-fried, batter-coated prawn fritters. Yum.
So ya, the date with Mr Engineer was quite interesting in the sense that I had never actually met someone who had absolutely no interest in having an opinion on things. Wait. I never actually had a conversation with an actual engineer before, so that rules out everything. Anyway,I figured its because of where he's from, or maybe anyone born outside of Singapore is like that.
Ya. I'm still puzzled. Having an opinion on everything and anything is like all I can do. Other than talking.
Note to self: Do not tell Boss about personal life especially when it is likely he will use it as ammo to take more potshots just to keep me in my place.
Bleah.
My cleaner called me today and asked what I was doing tomorrow. He said he had nothing much on, and was thinking of visiting a Japanese shrine just to look-see.
With a divorce and a cheating wife behind him, and a son who the aunties in Channel 8 dramas would call "a good-for-nothing unfilial son".. happy fucking chinese new year indeed.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Post-wine Pre-work ramble
Ok, so maybe I am selfish.
Francis called me last night to come into work today. I hope i didn't scare him off with my enthusiastic HELLO!!!!!! on the phone.
Arrived at the office to see that there was free food (mee siam) available for some kinda pre-CNY celebration for pix desk and I really really really couldn't stop laughing at how ridiculous it was for me to come back on the day there was free food. It's been a long time since I had a good laugh at my own expense.
I say I am selfish, because I took such immense pleasure in taking photographs today, and perhaps all that talk about doing good for the world was a temporary rant to make myself feel less guilty for doing something I enjoy.
There's just something about the camera, something about creating the photo, something about all the dials and the numbers and the exposure ratings and the cool click of the shutter that gets my blood racing like mad, and I was on adrenaline hours after the assignment ended.
And I think I remember feeling like that during all the other assignments. Regardless of how inane the subject was. Or how damn shitty the photos turned out.
My motivations may have wavered, but the emotions have always remained the same.
Will update as my Mind shifts. Which it will. Frequently.
Anyway. Chinese New Year. As a taxidriver said to me today, "Every year, the same bloody thing. I really not looking forward to it."
Not exactly true for me, I do like the reunions and the crazy gambling (plus this year I will bring beer) and the nonsense talk. I do NOT like the shopping-ritual-get-new-clothes routine or the wake-up-early-to-dress-and-go=visiting part
I remember I used to get a new set of pajamas every CNY when I was younger. Some traditions should never have been stopped.
Question: How long more can I use "But I'm so young!" as an excuse? Or reason. Whatever.
Francis called me last night to come into work today. I hope i didn't scare him off with my enthusiastic HELLO!!!!!! on the phone.
Arrived at the office to see that there was free food (mee siam) available for some kinda pre-CNY celebration for pix desk and I really really really couldn't stop laughing at how ridiculous it was for me to come back on the day there was free food. It's been a long time since I had a good laugh at my own expense.
I say I am selfish, because I took such immense pleasure in taking photographs today, and perhaps all that talk about doing good for the world was a temporary rant to make myself feel less guilty for doing something I enjoy.
There's just something about the camera, something about creating the photo, something about all the dials and the numbers and the exposure ratings and the cool click of the shutter that gets my blood racing like mad, and I was on adrenaline hours after the assignment ended.
And I think I remember feeling like that during all the other assignments. Regardless of how inane the subject was. Or how damn shitty the photos turned out.
My motivations may have wavered, but the emotions have always remained the same.
Will update as my Mind shifts. Which it will. Frequently.
Anyway. Chinese New Year. As a taxidriver said to me today, "Every year, the same bloody thing. I really not looking forward to it."
Not exactly true for me, I do like the reunions and the crazy gambling (plus this year I will bring beer) and the nonsense talk. I do NOT like the shopping-ritual-get-new-clothes routine or the wake-up-early-to-dress-and-go=visiting part
I remember I used to get a new set of pajamas every CNY when I was younger. Some traditions should never have been stopped.
Question: How long more can I use "But I'm so young!" as an excuse? Or reason. Whatever.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Emilia's Work
One thing that I've noticed - I leave voicemail messages in one breath. So whoever hears my msgs would think that I'm very rude for leaving messages in a breathless rush.
Ok so, Emilia came to town - Finnish/Spanish/Acehnese Emilia who had been in the jungles of Meulaboh for the past 7 months - and civilisation was perhaps a bit too much of a shock.
"I can't believe I'm caring about whether my hair is washed," she said. "I can't believe you accessorize."
So I gave her medicine, an absolutely hedonistic weekend to recharge her and to prepare her for another half a year of, er well, not caring if her hair is washed.
And she was my medicine, literally dragging me up from the bore I was becoming (read every other post below) and in the 5 days she was here managed to get rid of my blah-blah-sad-sad-whine-whinyness, dragged me shopping for an outfit i would NEVER have EVER EVER worn (read: pink and shiny) to go to the place I said I had no desire to go to (read: MOS) and squealed with me over Grey's Anatomy and Buffy and read the first lines of books in Borders to see which one took our breath away and planned how we might share a room in Mozambique in 2007 and landed me a date an actual date on Friday and in between all of which we bitched about capital punishment and politics and prostitution and military stupidity and women's rights and men/boys and humanitarian work and basically whatever made us human.
So I really don't care that the wonderful weekend ended up with me sniffling away in bed, utterly sick. (i can't feel my nose)
Ok so, Emilia came to town - Finnish/Spanish/Acehnese Emilia who had been in the jungles of Meulaboh for the past 7 months - and civilisation was perhaps a bit too much of a shock.
"I can't believe I'm caring about whether my hair is washed," she said. "I can't believe you accessorize."
So I gave her medicine, an absolutely hedonistic weekend to recharge her and to prepare her for another half a year of, er well, not caring if her hair is washed.
And she was my medicine, literally dragging me up from the bore I was becoming (read every other post below) and in the 5 days she was here managed to get rid of my blah-blah-sad-sad-whine-whinyness, dragged me shopping for an outfit i would NEVER have EVER EVER worn (read: pink and shiny) to go to the place I said I had no desire to go to (read: MOS) and squealed with me over Grey's Anatomy and Buffy and read the first lines of books in Borders to see which one took our breath away and planned how we might share a room in Mozambique in 2007 and landed me a date an actual date on Friday and in between all of which we bitched about capital punishment and politics and prostitution and military stupidity and women's rights and men/boys and humanitarian work and basically whatever made us human.
So I really don't care that the wonderful weekend ended up with me sniffling away in bed, utterly sick. (i can't feel my nose)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)