是邹，不是周。

Happy Varentines

2012-02-14T00:02:00.001+08:00

I really enjoy writing letters.

The City is My Church

2012-02-13T16:54:00.010+08:00

M83 killed it at Laneway. I don't know if I'm in the right mind to say that it was the best gig I've watched so far, surpassing Blonde Redhead and The National and the likes, but yes, I've never enjoyed a performance this much before. Completely blew my mind off, and when I was listening to M83 again on the train to work this morning, I teared. ¿Siao?. The weather sucked though, I really wished it rained like last year. I wore my cute yellow poncho for only 3 minutes and watched the one and only piece of dark cloud fly by Fort Canning before taking it off again. Plus I got my shoulders sunburnt and I have some heat rash on my back now, and it's Valentine's Day tomorrow. Nobody wants to get a heat rash on Valentine's Day you know. Oh, and not forgetting the absolutely touching Whitney Houston tribute that Girls did:

With bouquets of flowers on stage. Everything is better with flowers.

I think a lot of stuff happened recently; Eric just turned 21 (seeing him cut the cake made me tear also) (I tear at everything I am too emotional), Jean turned 26, I revisited Temasek Poly to have their delicious chicken chop (WANT TO CRY AGAIN), and Kiiin.

PS: Jean and I made grilled cheese + bacon + apple slices sandwiches last week, it is the most fucking awesome sandwich I've had in the world. We try to cook something every weekend because Jean likes to cook and it is always good to support your loved ones'... interests and hobbies (beneficial ones, not excessive gaming and stuff like that). Men are most charming when they're passionate about something they love doing.

Jobless and Happy

2012-02-03T12:14:00.005+08:00

I am currently having an extremely good time, probably the best time of my life in the past whole year. Because I am only starting at my new place next week, so for the whole of this week I get to sleep in every morning, have german beer and spätzle in the afternoon (fwoah!), stroll down the streets, go shopping, get all romantic on a rooftop overseeing the cityscape at night while listening to This Mortal Coil's Kangaroo (I think I want to dance to this song on my wedding day (even though I'm not sure what the kangaroo is exactly supposed to mean in the song),

(I even found an article that wrote: "There are some songs I hope never to understand. I would be a little devastated if one day I fathomed the depths of Kangaroo (I favour This Mortal Coil's version over Big Star's original) with its cry of "Oh I want you, like a kangaroo." I grasp the meaning, if not the specifics, and at some level, I feel I understand it completely.")

and even visit the museum whenever I like to look at Monet and Van Gogh. Without ever getting tired. There is no such thing as being tired when you don't have to report to work everyday. Hehe.

By the way I felt very cheated when I saw this because I thought they were exhibiting the other Starry Night that's more famous. Oh well. I am now heading out to play some ukulele with my friends, and tomorrow I am going to Marina Barrage to fly kites. Yayayay. I love being jobless. Bye!

Shashukaaa

2012-01-29T23:50:00.013+08:00

Looping this at the moment.

So this is Jean and I and our 21cm height difference. His eyebrows are veh thick and his nose is veh sharp and his ears are veh small (don't like.) and his skin is veh pale and, he is veh tall. He is veh shy and he is veh gentlemanly and he is veh caring and he is veh honest and, he is veh tall. Okay, enough of showing off his height. Today is our 7th month anniversary but we are not the kind of lame couples who wear couple shirts and buy soft toys and celebrate monthsaries. Although we did celebrate our 6th month because IT WAS COMBINED WITH CHRISTMAS and sometimes I just wanna be cheesy okay. Sometimes. I have this majorly cheesy vision of my girlfriends and I in our early thirties, sitting on a red and white striped picnic mat on a green green field with our husbands and children and golden retrievers running about (I mean the children and dogs, not our husbands), eating atas salad and munching on atas bread and watching our children giggle and laugh and blow bubbles while our dogs spend their time fetching balls and catching frisbees. Mmhmm.

and this is our DIY shashuka which is the most fucking yummy brunch you can have on this entire planet. Swear. I think I'm gonna replace the salad and bread in my cheesy vision with shashuka. Ya. K. Bye.

Re: Chinese New Year and Condo Ads

2012-01-23T15:47:00.009+08:00

Sheeps. Lucky number: 1. Lucky colour: green. Beware of unwanted romance and take extra precautions when signing business contracts.

That's Chinese new year for you. People dressed in bright colours, munching on unhealthy snacks, listening to bullshit like this along with some gong-clashing and firecracker-exploding on TV. Sleigh bells is to christmas songs, as firecracrackers is to chinese new year songs. Chinese new year to my family is a very big event even though there's only 3 of us celebrating it. We buy decors, we buy flowers (see above), we stock up on tidbits (although not a lot - my mom believes in slim children (one day she told me my thighs are fat and I told her that mothers like her are the cause of anorexic children)) and my mom will personally make sure there they isn't a speck of dust in our rooms after spring cleaning. Nobody really enjoys spring cleaning like FUCK YEAH SPRING CLEANING!!!! but I do like it when I get to throw a bunch of useless stuff away. Like I threw a pink rabbit lantern, an old calculator, two gaudy plastic necklaces and a star-shaped rubber keychain away yesterday. I sat down and painfully cleaned every nook and cranny of my electric fan with a cotton bud and god I swear the amount of dust I collected from it was enough to form a grey kitty plushie. Those really soft and huggable ones.

(OMG SORRY BUT I'M DRINKING VITASOY NOW AND THEY FINALLY ADDED A CURVE TO THEIR STRAW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FINALLY!!!! AFTER ALL THESE YEARS OF STRUGGLING WITH THEIR SHORT AND STRAIGHT STRAW WHICH ALWAYS FALLS INTO THE BIG BLACKHOLE.)

My reunion dinner is always very sumptuous

but secretly pathetic because like I said, there's only 3 of us, and the extra bowls are just placed there for some tradition's sake. Something to do with filling up the whole table, and even numbers? I guess it has its pros and cons because I know how people have to deal with awkward family gatherings and find some way to avoid their aunts and uncles' long list of FAQs, like "How're your studies?", "What are your plans?" and "Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend?", and

if you answer "Yes" -
"Oh when are you getting married?"

if you answer "No" -
"Why? Faster find one and get married."

Also, I am constantly bugged about the idea of my mom growing old and I know once she GG I will never have reunion dinners as yummy as this anymore. Oh, I gave my mom my first angpao this year. Makes me feel proud in some ways. I didn't know if $100 was too much or too little, but I guess too little for the things she has done for us. Everything's too little. The entire universe is too little to repay this woman. Recently I heard that Suimin bought an Osim massage chair together with her sister for their parents, so I asked my mom if she wants one too, and she said we don't live in a bungalow, there's no space for it. So I need to buy my mom a bungalow to buy her a massage chair.

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

I was watching the TV last night and I saw a condo ad that was the epitome of cliche...ness. Clicherity. Whatever. Like you know, handsome man, pretty woman, newlywed, paint the house together (no sweat, no mess), got pregnant, baby's born, baby so damn cute (no poop, no crying at 3am), baby grows up and goes to school, mother has the time to cook some fucking Wild Honey standard breakfast for the whole family every morning, grandparents come over to visit, family look at each other and embrace and laugh together (do such things even happen) with an intense bokeh background. Pans out to the condo building.

It's always like that. Either this, or the type that promotes city living? Bachelor in a suit, driving home in his sports car. Sensual jazz music - saxophone wails. Chandeliers, grand piano, wine tasting, cheese tasting (wtf), impressive sleek kitchen. Beautiful woman comes over. Toast. Eat steak. Goes over to the balcony to admire the cityscape at night. Man hugs woman from behind.

Or, the fairytale type with a lady dressed like a greek goddess smelling flowers and blowing dandelions and dancing around with fireflies. Like this:

(This one even features a unicorn.)

Which is all rubbish because your condo is not even built when they're airing the TVC and your amazingly perfect life is only going to happen in front of a green screen.

The end.

gxfczpgy

2012-01-22T17:54:00.004+08:00

Our CNY was spent playing drinking games (and finding out how bitchy Jolyn gets when she's drunk), playing with dogs, and walking on buttery floor because of steamboat.

Oh, the Places You'll Go

2012-01-10T21:41:00.002+08:00

This video came just at the right time. So touching and inspiring :'S

#MYARDUOUSLIFE

2012-01-09T21:36:00.015+08:00

1.to cut down, reduce, or diminish; curtail.

Look at your fingerprints. How many whorls do you have? I have 10, and my mom told me that people born with 10 whorls on their fingertips will lead a very good life. They're like emperors, they don't have to worry much and things always go smoothly for them. My 8 characters pretty much says the same thing, I just have to wait till I grow older. I'm not very superstitious, but when it comes to things like this - Chinese zodiacs, horoscopes and the like - I choose to believe in them, because it gives me hope. When they say negative stuff like "Geminis! Watch your finance in the beginning of January when Pluto enters this house and Jupiter enters that house and clashes with combative Mars and moves towards the mysterious Moon and combust into a ball of fire!", then I simply dismiss them as "zodiac bullshit, lol". Double standards.

Hope. Isn't it a precious thing? I've come to realise that I'm pretty much living for my future, I always believe the future has something better to offer. And hope is naturally always planted somewhere in the midst of the coming days; no one pins their hope on the lousy past. Maybe it's because I always find the present moment unsatisfactory. But as long as I am alive, I'll always have a future, and I can always put my faith in it. It's like a gamble with a 50-50 winning chance. Your life is either gonna be great, or it's gonna suck. So what do you do when you find out it sucks? You take the gamble again. You hope that the future will eventually be great. It's pessimistic-optimist thinking. During my week-long break I wrote a love letter to Jean consisting of countless "I hope"s. I hope I'll grow less pimples. I hope you'll grow more facial hair. I hope life will become more meaningful. I hope we'll get out of this rat race soon. I hope everything will be better in this new year.

Remember I mentioned about the importance of time and luck? Here's a perfect example. Bad timing and bad luck.

At first I doubted myself and my own capabilities, but then I was assured that it was just caused by circumstances that're not within my control. I thought only old and obsolete people have to deal with this problem, but heh heh, surprise? Perhaps I'm really just too old at heart. The other day I told Jean about how I used to have this 500-piece jigsaw puzzle of Tweety Bird dressed up as a Mexican in the middle of a desert, which I completed and destroyed over and over again as a kid because I enjoyed putting them together so much? He then told me that he's read about the story of an old man who does exactly the same thing everyday. -_-

So yes, this is definitely not what poor 20 year olds fresh out of a design school's shithole should be getting, but I accept my destiny. I take this with a light heart and as a blessing in disguise. What's the big deal? Every end is a new beginning. Like the ouroboros. (It is an ancient symbol depicting a serpent or dragon eating its own tail. It comes from the Greek words oura meaning “tail” and boros meaning “eating”, thus “he who eats the tail”. This symbolizes the cyclic Nature of the Universe: creation out of destruction, Life out of Death. The ouroboros eats its own tail to sustain its life, in an eternal cycle of renewal. The snake is representative of rebirth as it sheds its skin. Adapting, changing, and improving.)

Which I was planning to get inked when I turn 21 (before I knew this was coming). And now I have even more reasons to do so. I have also decided that instead of (HOPING to) starting a café next time, I should start a bar, because I'm such a night owl. Or actually, because I'm so not a morning person.

On a side note, I watched Martha Marcy May Marlene this weekend and I am totally unimpressed by it (and the ridiculous abrupt ending). Boring, draggy, and a very unnecessary movie.

Cheers to life and all its shit!

Dipdyefail

2012-01-03T19:14:00.008+08:00

Lost my hair-dyeing virginity. Not as bright and orangey as I wanted it to be but whatever, I just wanted some change in my hair for the new year. I can add more layers in the future like Nicki Minaj. Wanted to go full red but everyone around me suddenly went red recently so I decided not to. K bye

Molt

2012-01-01T11:49:00.012+08:00

(CLASSIC. Already looped this over 150 times so far. Finally found this song after about 4 or 5 years, kept hearing it every now and then but no one knows the title. It was playing on the radio the other day in the office and I borrowed my colleague's phone to shazam it. THANKS SHAZAM!)

As a new year kicked in at the stroke of midnight, I found myself completely smitten, swapping DNA under bursting fireworks. I was tipsy with a complimentary party blower in my hand, you had your asian flush, we both had some remnants of medium rare meat in our mouths. What was I doing last year at this time? I was rushing to buy groceries in Woodlands; what was I doing 2 years back? I was serving disgustingly overpriced diluted vodka at a gay bar. And 12 years ago I was sitted in front of the TV, hands cupped around my stupid flat little ears, awaiting the mighty explosion that should have killed us all along with the arrival of the millenium. For most parts of my life, new year's eves had always been dreadful in some way or another, but not this year. I was happy, I could feel emotions. I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of cheesiness. (Kissing under the fireworks is super cheesy btw, but what better time to be cheesy? I'm still 20 and this is the youngest I will ever be as of today) When I turned back to look at the fireworks exploding and dying one after another I think I cried, I think I cried for a split of a split second, because everything was so overwhelming and because I was reminded of the beauty and fleetingness of life, and how one day you'll never wake up and you can't hear me whine about your fucking Guns N' Roses alarm anymore, because I might not be awake to do that either. I don't know if I have too much or too little time left. "How late it is to begin to live just when we must cease to live"? And yet I can't do much to change my current situation, passing my days with such monotony, watching my precious youth being burnt away and watching weariness clambering up my spine day by day. What for? To earn a living. What for? To live...? And what for, again? So that you can work to live and live to work? Often I ask myself if I can ever get out of this rat race, is it a matter of time or is it a matter of luck? Yes you need motivation and you need determination - but will it be of any use, will it be able to take you anywhere without putting in the context of time and luck? I don't even know what I want to do for a career, I just know that I hate working in an office and I want to have more time to read books and listen to music and watch films and take photos of avocados and tomatoes. You know how those rich workaholics buy the most expensive furnitures in their homes but never have the luxury of time to fully enjoy it? Well in my case it's in the form of books and music and films. I just keep getting them and adding on to my collection but I never have enough time for it. It's plain sad. Very, very, very sad.

Happy new year anyway, I'm feeling positive vibes for 2012. Woke up with Franz Ferdinand's Do You Want To playing in my head for no good reason. "YOU'RE LUCKEH LUCKEH YOU'RE SO LUCKEH!!!" For a start I have Laneway Fest and Elbow's concert waiting for me in February and March already. :>

2011-12-30T14:28:00.004+08:00

First day of leave today! Finally enjoying some natural sunlight on a weekday and not trapped in a stupid freezing office. I'm just sitting here being amazed by natural light falling on two fruits in my kitchen. The shadows! The beauty of it! Makes me weirdly contented.

Oh and I might want to dye my hair red.
Bye!

Mewwy chwistmas

2011-12-26T14:43:00.004+08:00

(Eh I really don't like portrait photos la Sus stop it)

So embarrassing these 2 reindeers. They were deciding on a reindeer pose that is the most authentic and Mag said that a real reindeer should go on all fours. So I suggested that I can ride on them since I am a santa.

This is Sus trying her new Bobbi Brown SUNSET BRONZE lipstick. Jiahui knew which colour to specifically buy for her because she mentioned it on her blog. Ha. My secret santa was Jolyn and she got me a coffee/tea maker. I was the secret santa for Jiahui and I got her a grey canvas tote bag, which she is very happy with, so yay.

Siao zhar bor

Siao zhar bor part II

4 hour long extravagant dinner at P.S. Cafe, happy (and very touching - MAG!!! AIYO. She gave us glass bottles filled with glitter water with a group photo inside. It's the kind of thing that you'd take a last glimpse at before you die.) gift exchange, followed by an impromptu trip to Butter Factory till 5am in the morning. Finally felt youthful again. Best christmas evA. Apart from the fact that Jean always has to fly back home during christmas so we'll never get to celebrate it together in Singapore. (Please excuse me while I sob to Slow Club's Christmas TV:

"IT'S BRUTAL, IT'S BRUTAL, WHY CAN'T YOU SEEEEEEEEEEEEEE? BOOOOOOOHOOOOOHOOOOO WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH")

And also apart from the fact that I ordered a $68 T-bone steak without knowing it's $68. Our bill totalled up to over $400 (because we also ordered a vintage champagne. Feeling rich huh) so we kind of got a shock. HAHAHA. Oh well, it's christmas and it's the end of an eventful year, so we should all give ourselves a good treat to brace for the new year ahead.

Hold

2011-12-21T20:41:00.010+08:00

When I first saw this picture I missed the monkey so I thought Frida was lovingly removing little spots of dust and lint from Diego's coat, which is what I like to do to Jean. Last Sunday we were sipping coffee and watching the rain. He was on the phone with his sister, discussing something about raincoats. Meanwhile I was brushing small pieces of dirt off his tshirt. I told him I feel like a monkey picking out fleas whenever I do that. He then pulled off a lose strand of hair from my rust-coloured coat and placed it horizontally across my wrist, like hanging smoked sausages on metal bars.

"Why did you give my hair back to me?"
"... I don't know?"
"Monkeys don't do that."
"How do you know monkeys don't do that."
"Well because I've seen it on Nat Geo and when they pick fleas off their partners and they either eat it up or flick it away. They don't put the flea back into their lover's fur."

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

Ultimate Breakfast at Roadhouse. At 3pm. Fuck yes Sunday brunches.

I've been craving intensely for scrambled eggs for 2 consecutive days preceding this meal, so I couldn't stop the monster in me. Finished every single thing on this plate. Not even a crumb left. Yummeh.

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

"I should have forgiven you for all that wasn’t your fault"

No, I do not like to treat you like shit. The moment when I dived straight into this, bared and bold, but not necessarily fearless - I knew I was surrending myself to a full spectrum of inscrutable emotions that would come my way. I never meant to be chronically silent, I never meant to punish you by being silent; I just don't know how to deal with uncertainty and whenever I look into your pair of gigantic shining eyes, I can see my own uncertainty being reflected in them. Can you see them, I wonder? And would it be silly, if I tell you that I have to reassure myself with The Beatles' "All You Need is Love" every now and then? I have a playlist of silly songs like this, for me to cry and binge on ice cream and cookies and lousy DIY cocktails to, for me to make a mess out of myself right before I grow listless and fall asleep on my wet pillow and pretend that I am floating peacefully away on a lily pad... Then I wake up the next morning and all I can hear are nasty words and all I can see are dreary scenes from my past. But I try to push them away, I try to wake up and see the beauty in the littlest of things. The sun rays, the fading sound of a motorbike speeding past just across the road, the delightful thought of having a bar of chocolate for breakfast because there is nothing else in the fridge. I crack my joints and I hear my pelvic bone grind against my right femur as I make my first trip of the day to the bathroom, and in that short and snoozy trip, it's always you I think of. Do I want to treat you like shit? No. But do I treat you like shit? Yes. And do you think you can save me from this shit? Maybe.

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

I can't wait for christmas. I'm not looking forward to 2012 coming, but I'm looking forward to 2011 ending.

2011-12-15T22:03:00.006+08:00

My mom is going to get a heartattack when she returns home next week. This is my christmas gift for her. Merry christmas mom!!!!!!!1 (Also you can tell how I only have black white grey and blue clothes, even for my bedsheets and towel. But I have a flowery bag.)

Starved

2011-12-13T23:20:00.002+08:00

Merry xxxmas from Breadtalk.

Crying into Meatloaves

2011-12-12T20:35:00.010+08:00

Movies I caught this weekend: Immortals, Mel Brooks' Blazing Saddles, and Lars von Trier's Melancholia. That's going from brutal violence to cult classic comedy to some serious sad shit. Melancholia made me cry. Just watch the amazing prologue for yourself. My love for slow-mo scenes is fierce and undying. To backtrack a little, Immortals would have sucked a lot if not for all the slow-mo effects typical of the directors of 300. Madness...? THIS. IS. SPARTAAAAAA!!!

---

A Tale of Exaggeration: Running after Someone Else's Death

I like the idea of how people influence and change each other's lives directly or indirectly, immediately or eventually, intentionally or accidentally, lovingly or hatefully. As quoted by Friedrich Nietzsche - "All things are linked, entwined, and in love with one another." Romanticising our dull mortal life of course, but seriously speaking there's no meaning to life without romance. And no, romance doesn't not equate to love. Romance is art and beauty, tragedy and mystery, desires, passion, rejections, daydreams, restlessness, ardency, and a row of fucking hot hunks standing outside Abercrombie & Fitch. (Just kidding about the last part. But they are really very hot.) For example? You run after a bus. But it doesn't end there. You run after a bus, the bus stops for you, and the 18 other people on the bus also stop for you (immediately, and immediately hatefully); 2 of which are already having a bad day, and they will proceed to spread their unhappiness to other innocent parties in a ripple effect. Maybe shout at their spouse and rake up the past and start a big fight and then hit each other and bring out their newest Württembergische Metallwarenfabrik chopper that they got for christmas and end up sobbing frantically with a bag of fresh cut limbs at Bedok Reservoir at midnight. And why so?

Because you ran after the bus.

Okay, that was exaggerating. (However, theoretically speaking, it's really possible considering the Butterfly Effect) But if you think about it, the world and the causality behind all human relationships is pretty much just a chain of events running in perpetuum, like a circle with no beginning and no end.

Samsara

Samsara is a Sanskrit word, referring to the continuous pursuit or flow of life. In a modern vernacular context, samsara is also a word used to describe the how life is full of attachments and comings-and-goings, a subtle state of suffering. For example, when saying goodbye to a loved one, one might utter, "ah... samsara." The term samsara has been translated many ways which include but are not limited to endless suffering, cyclic existence, perpetual wandering, and transmigration. According to the Buddha, the beginning point of samsara is not evident, just as there is no beginning point to a circle. The Assu Sutta of the Pali Canon provides an explanation of our existence in samsara:
"Long have you (repeatedly) experienced the death of a father... the death of a brother... the death of a sister... the death of a son... the death of a daughter... loss with regard to relatives... loss with regard to wealth... loss with regard to disease. The tears you have shed while transmigrating and wandering this long, long time — crying and weeping from being joined with what is displeasing, being separated from what is pleasing — are greater than the water in the four great oceans."

I find it painful to love someone, to become attached to things. I have come to realise that being dependent on anyone apart from myself is the quickest route to achieving happiness, but even quicker to losing it. It falls upon you like a crashing wave and escapes nimbly like a backwash. The exigencies of a working adult life only makes things worse. I don't have enough time to breathe, to absorb my surroundings, to even say a proper goodbye to someone I love. "Oh no, my bus is here! Bye!" - always followed by a quick peck on the lips, more than often messy and misaimed. It leaves me with an ineptitude and emptiness so immense that it looms around like a persistent swarm of flies for at least the next half of the day. I feel like I need 5 hours to say goodbye. When I know I have to part with my loved ones somewhere later in the day, I need to pre-prepare myself for it. Saying bye to my mom, saying bye to friends, say bye to Jean... each and every time is terribly agonising. I'm stuck in a dimension where I am left to feed on the perpetual insatiability of my unrealistic longings until the day I finally die.

Dinner was...

3 pieces of stale bread and a bottle of (fresh) 7-up.

It's a 麋鹿！

2011-12-07T22:02:00.015+08:00

My colleague and I spent 2 nights making a life sized paper reindeer. It's still not done, we're trying to figure out how to do the horns. I left office at 12am last night. This is me posing with it.

As you can tell I am quite happy with the outcome given my lack of talent in sculpturing (note: got D+ for 3D fundamentals) but also extremely tired. When I'm tired my eyes realise their full potential of being Asian.

Talking about being Asian.

I wonder when will it be my last time being called 'cute'. I hope when I'm 72 and dying with a mouth full of rotten teeth and a body full of cancer cells, my husband will still find me cute. 'Cute' is not a very apt adjective to describe my character but I still like to be called 'cute' once in a while. I like to be independent, reflective, awkward, aloof, and cute. I always tell my auntie colleague that she's very cute. Her name is Lai Keng and she gives me fruit bread and biscuits every now and then when I get hungry in the office. And she sings along to Hokkien songs during lunchbreak. Today I recommended this song to her

because it sounds SOOOOooOooOooOoOo HOKKIEN, but she said "sorry the lyrics I tiabo". Hahahaha. So... cute. I bought the Twin Sister album anyway, been listening to it for the past few days and I love it.

Awkward Moments on the Tube

2011-11-28T20:53:00.014+08:00

What to Expect: New 4th Edition

Pregnant women. Of course they seem to always find their way in front of you when you're seated on the lucky reserved spot. And of course I will let them have my seat. But I'm sure you've been in the intense situation where a rather plump woman with a bulging belly stands in front of you and you're not quite sure if she's pregnant or just unfortunately fat. What if she's really pregnant and you're being terribly inconsiderate? What if she's not pregnant and you hurt her feelings? And then you spend the next 20 minutes on the train painfully debating with yourself until it's time for you to get off the train.

Today I got caught in a worse scenario than that. I was at the last cabin, sitting on a reserved seat happily after a tiring day at work. And then - "Cityhall interchange. Doors are closing. Dudududududu" (btw I've always tried to count the number of dus, but no one can confirm the answer with me. Is it 8 or 13?). A woman walks in and stands in front of me. She was wearing a cobalt blue dress, carrying a paper bag from Godiva Chocolate, and um, being... very... skinny. The bony, lanky type. I think I gave her a very slight smile because she had a rather pleasant face. Until... she took out a book from her Godiva bag.

What to Expect - New 4th edition

At first I only took a quick glance at the book spine and I was thinking, "What to Expect? What a stupid title. Must be another cliché non-fiction, self-motivational book. Expect what? Why do you need to expect for 4 editions, ha" and then she opened the book so that I could see the cover through the glass panel, and WAWAWA!

Oh fuck.

Completely Revised and Updated.

Completely Confusing to People if you're reading it on the train when you look too skinny to be pregnant.

Maybe she's 1 month pregnant? Maybe she just had sex last night and is being over enthusiastic...? Maybe she is not pregnant and did not have sex recently but is really eager to be a mom? Maybe she is a psycho who prints a whole stack of these book jackets to wrap around every novel just so she can go onto the train and confuse people like me??? WHAT DO I DO???

I didn't give up my seat in the end. As expected I spent the next 20 minutes painfully debating with myself until it was time for me to get off the train. She took over my seat. I think she's 1 month pregnant. I think I am gonna get bad karma. 10 years down the road when I'm on my way back from the hospital after I found out I'm pregnant for 1 month - someone is going to snatch my reserved seat on the train and the train is going to jerk and I am going to lose my balance and fall badly and have a miscarriage.

iPhorn

Okay I'm exaggerating here, that guy wasn't watching porn, but he was looking through an entire photo album of random Japanese girls that are obviously quite eligible to be porn stars. Throughout the whole journey from Redhill to Tanah Merah. Just. Flipping through pictures of kawaii girls ^o^.

No prizes for guessing how the guy looks like. Think Lala Pipo, the fat guy who masturbates to his neighbour having sex.

2-for-1

Well to cut the long story short, I was sitting on the seat next to the reserved seat, thinking that my journey to Redhill is going to be a smooth and relaxing one, until 2 filipino tourists came on board and decided to pretend that I'm either

a) anorexic
b) a piece of plasticine, or
c) made up of air molecules,

because they both SQUEEEEEZED onto that ONE reserved seat and I ended up with only half a seat for my butt. I felt very bullied.

K that's all. Bye.

PS: Had the privilege to work with Singapore's famous food photographer Edmund Ho last Friday. The photoshoot lasted more than 12 hours. SooOooOooo tiring. But I must admit it was pretty fun. The most ironic part is that the food all look really delicious on the photos but they're mostly inedible because of all the funny little tricks we do to it to enhance the colours and textures. Mmm.

Palea steindachneri pizza

2011-11-19T16:47:00.017+08:00

This extremely talented redhead boy is only 17 years old, and he sounds almost like Bob Dylan already. Such a deep voice! Although he does have that kiampa sloppy hipster vibe. But it's okay, when you have talent you can do anything you like. This kid's gonna go far.

What exactly are you supposed say when you call for pizza delivery? I mean, the very first line after you say hi? Because I've never had a perfectly smooth call with a pizzaman. "Hi... Erm. I want to order some pizzas?" Obviously you want to order pizzas if you called them, no? That makes the sentence redundant. But on the other hand if you go straightaway into your order it's also wrong, like "Hi... Erm. 2 regular margheritas and 1 large tandoori chicken." Or maybe you're supposed to tell them your name first." Hi... Erm. My name is Zhou." Or your address? "Hi... Erm. 2 Leng Kee Road". WHAT? NONE OF THOSE MAKES SENSE. HOW DO YOU ORDER A PIZZA SUAVELY??? Somebody needs to write a book called "Pizza Pick Up Lines", I'd buy it. Jiahui was right, I make ordinary situations unnecessarily awkward. The other day when she was watching me buy movie tickets for Ides of March (btw that movie's quite nice, some good twists here and there. And Ryan Gosling is hAwt sTuFF) and she witnessed my uncomfortable exchange of looks/words with the ticketer and she told me I always have to make things awkward for strangers when it could have been alright. Can't help it though, I'm a shy person, I'm very very shy.

4 days back I lost one of the earpiece cushions or whatever you call it, the round rubber thing that you put on (no, not condoms) your in-ear headphones so that it will stay in place, the ones that come in different sizes (no, really not condoms)? Yeah, I realised one of it was gone when I left my office on Tuesday, so I was like "okay, bad luck, I'll go buy a new pair tomorrow" but the next morning when I woke up I saw a dusty one sitted right on my computer desk. I went to work to look for the one that I supposedly lost in the office the previous day, but didn't find any. I'm 100% sure that I lost it in the office because I was still listening to music at work before I left that evening, so there is no way that it could be in my bedroom. Yeah. Fucking creepy.

The other day I also had my first bowl of turtle soup in more than a decade. Every chunk of meat I ate had a different texture to it, which made me slightly uncomfortable, but I thoroughly enjoyed the soft jelly parts which I assume is the area right underneath their skin. Somewhere from the dermis section. Lots of juicy collagen. "Turtle soup" seems a bit scary because it sounds as if I'm a great white shark eating up a cute little turtle like

But actually they're not so cute. They look like this, with a snort.

Wattle-necked softshell turtle. Palea steindachneri. 山瑞. Not cute. Not cute = eat. The reason why it's unethical to eat dogs and cats is because they are cute. Well personally I don't find cats cute but judging from the general perception of the humankind I guess it's considered something cute. I guess sheeps and cows are also sorta cute but beef steaks and patties are cuter. I can give up mutton though, I'm not a fan of mutton. If I ever have to switch to a vegetarian diet the first meat I'd swear off from is mutton.

According to my colleagues, drinking turtle soup helps to boost sexual performance, but that wasn't my intention. I just felt slightly more adventurous that afternoon. I mean adventurous to try an exotic dish, not adventurous in bed.

Someone should make turtle pizza.

Yesterday was Mervyn's last day (boohoo) so we had a mini farewell party in the office till 1am. (Which explains my Arduous Adventure of Pizza Ordering) Everyone got tipsy and started saying naughty things like "moist banana" and "hump my bird cake", and when the mother boss was eating her slice of pizza she said something like "why are you all making this so hard for me, it's so big" (referring to size of pizza slice) but I think she didn't mean it as a sexual innuendo, I just tend to interpret everything that people say as something dirty. However it seems like it's part of the company culture to always pop in some suggestive stuff in our everyday conversations even when we're sober. Something I really like about the people in this company is how dirty their minds are. Being the youngest there is also a good thing because the older ones talk about these stuff like it's completely normal (which it is). I still know of people around my age who're like "eew did you just say penis eEeeeee" aiya please la can you all grow up and go suck some balls.

K sorry a bit too harsh.

O and this is the lousy digicam photo that we took at my mom's birthday dinner.

And this is a video to remind you of how much Adele is overplayed.

I am now going to read my Chuck Palahniuk book which I haven't touched for 2 weeks so bye.

46mm Leopard M-2527 Grenade Launcher

2011-11-14T20:15:00.041+08:00

On my way back home I was selectively listening to 3:08 - 4:37, over and over and over again. I loooove the chord progression from 4:06 till the end. There're these certain sets of chords that always get me. Mysterious, somber, even empowering at times. The Muse kind, the Blonde Redhead kind? Like they're somewhat tragic but not like "HEY LOOK I'M A SONG MADE UP OF JUST MINOR CHORDS SO I'M KING OF TRAGIC". Ya.

Once in a while when there's someone playing DotA near me I can't help but watch their game. (Note: Eric's brothers. It's as if their living room is a LAN shop) I have long lost my DotA skills since I uninstalled it from my computer 2 years back; I can't remember what items are good for which heroes and what skills I should upgrade first. But when I just sit and watch people play, I'm still able to understand what's going on in that big mess. People who've never played DotA before always complain about how it's such so messy looking. Lightning here fire there zap zap bomb stun oh look there's a chiobu archer oh look there's someone on a horse oh no the horse just multiplied itself oh there's a tarantula oh no it just gave birth to spider babies oh look there's a glowing old wizard and a big black bear and also a bat dripping oil onto the dark turquoise terrain. So yeah, now I'm like some old and paunchy soccer fan who's not fit enough to play on the field, but still enjoy watching it with a can of cold beer and a pack of chips. Like how some old people always like to talk about their 'glorious days'? "YOU KNOW??? Ahgong was a brave young soldier... Back then during WW2 my troop was ambushed when we were just eating biscuits and doin' our thang... My friend Teck Huat got shot and he became unconscious, so ahgong ran across the burning minefield while maniacally firing a 46mm Leopard M-2527 grenade launcher with my right hand and carrying my unconcious friend over my shoulder with my left hand. Can you do that??? *smirk*" (I bullshitted the gun model btw. Although I do like guns and swords and stuff like that. My favourite childhood toy was a machine gun, the one that makes a different muffled electronic shooting sound each time you pull the trigger? Then the battery died, so I moved on to my medieval silver sword) Next time I will tell my grandchildren "YOU KNOW??? Ahma used to play DotA and sometimes when I'm lucky I could reach GODLIKE. Hehe ^0^"

I watched The Shining at Jean's place last night. Supposedly one of the most classic horror thrillers made in history. Shortly after the show I felt really nauseous so we only had mushroom potage for dinner and when it was bed time I couldn't fall asleep at all. I had insomnia the entire night, I was sweating and I had dry lips and my chest hurt and there was a headache that was worsening every minute and when I looked at him in the dark I was like "FUCK HE IS SO PALE HE LOOKS LIKE A CORPSE" so I ran out to the living room so I could sleep with BIG BRIGHT LIGHTS ON. Even so, I only solved the light problem but not the noise problem. Your senses get extra heightened when you're scared, so every "tak" and "click" coming from nowhere made me extremely nervous and paranoid. I tried listening to music but cancelling the surrounding noise also made me feel insecure, like what if there's a killer at the balcony but I can't hear his footsteps or breathing and THE NEXT MINUTE HE CHOPS ME????!?!?!!!?!?!1 I took panadol pills to ease the headache but my stomach was empty so I had to find something to eat and I wanted to eat his cereal but his cereal was already laohong, so I ate a piece of plain bread and it just made me want to vomit even more and I was trembling and crying and waiting for the sun to rise and end my misery.

Well the thing is, I just watched 23:59 in the cinema a few weeks ago and I was perfectly fine. (Although, not out of my own will — Eric and Ying ganged up to trick me. We agreed to watch Just In Time... but when the dark clouds flew past the moon in the first scene I knew I was fucking pranked. I should have known. On our way there Eric was being all funny like "WE'RE JUST IN TIME FOR 23:59 WHEEHEE :D" But I thought he was just kidding.) It's not like The Shining was really THAT SCARY, I think The Ring is more scary, but there's just something very subtlely creepy and haunting about it that I think has secretly damaged and destroyed my heart chakra or chi or whatever you call it. For some reason as I grow older I become more afraid of horror films. Maybe I'll die from watching a horror film when I'm old. If I experience another of this episode when I'm a granny I don't think my body can take it.

Here's the trailer I DON'T EVEN WANT TO WATCH THE TRAILER you can watch if you want to ya okay ya MOMMY I'M SCARED LET'S SKIP THIS

Oh talking about mommy, my mommy has turned 50 recently.

Ironically the photos do not include my mom's face because this was the process of us preparing dinner before she came home. She coincidentally ran into her very old friend (who she has lost touch with for 15 years) on her birthday. Actually on Friday we also went to Ritz Carlton for buffet dinner as a second round of celebration (if you recall where we ate last year, you can tell that my sister likes to bring us to fancy places on my mom's birthdays. Which I really do not like. They just make me SO uncomfortable. Any restaurants that make you use napkins = uncomfortable. It's been one year and I'm still having problems with the dumb napkin. Fuck you I don't need a napkin stop putting it on my lap PLEASE JUST STOP) and we took some family photos there, but my mom's out partying with her old friends right now and she brought the camera along so I can't upload the photos, but ANYWAY. That buffet place at Ritz Carlton??? THEIR FOOD IS HORRIBLE. Can't even be bothered to go about explaining how disappointing it is. Let's just say the fresh fruits were their best dish -_- I'd rather have my $3 chicken rice or wanton mee.

O and I saw a lady stain the MRT seat with her period blood. Nasty.

Re: Music

2011-11-08T11:45:00.015+08:00

1. Adele is way, way overplayed. So much so that once I hear the phrase "There's a fire…" I feel a severe and immediate need to expel food from my stomach. "Reaching a fever pitch…" BWUUUUUUUULEEEEAAAARRRGGGHHH. If this goes on she will soon be rolling in my deep pool of vomit. You heard that, ADELE??? I WANT YOU TO ROLL IN MY DEEP POOL OF VOMIT. And if you happen to drown in it it's okay, because nevermind, I'll find someone like you.

2. Also, Zooey Deschanel's breakup with Ben Gibbard came as an expected news for me because I recently bought the latest She & Him album titled "A Very She & Him Christmas" and I was just thinking, how do you record a whole album of joyous and adorable christmas songs with a guy (who is not your husband) and not fall in love with him??? And obviously M. Ward is more attractive than Ben Gibbard. Plus I was never a fan of Death Cab.

3. I have survived more than a week of taking public transport without music since the death of the iPod touch and seriously speaking I think it is starting to slowly reduce my lifespan because I get so irritated with people's voices on the train and buses. They echo in my head and make me itchy all over. 2 days back there was this auntie sitting directly in front of me whose voice sounded like a chipmunk on helium and after alighting from the bus half an hour later I was sure that I've already lost one week from my entire lifespan.

4. The National's concert on Sunday night was absolutely incredible, especially the last 2 songs of the encore. I'd rate it better than Lykke Li's. Heh. There wasn't anything special about the lightning effects though, so for a few songs I actually closed my eyes to immerse myself in the music. Matt Berninger crowd surfed all the way across the center seats and UP the balcony at the right during the chorus of Terrible Love (read: extremely goosebumps inducing, I think I almost fainted). Tailored black suit, resounding baritone voice, one fucking stupefying charmer drunk on red wine and his 'unicorn tears'. They ended with an unplugged version of Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks, which everyone sang along with. Shed a tear. Also shed a tear for Runaway and another one for Bloodbuzz Ohio. So in total I shed 3 tears. Hahahaha

Watch the awesome acoustic performance of Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks!

And also the crowd surfing (fast forward to 2:32):

4 is an unlucky number

2011-10-30T22:37:00.001+08:00

"Without 40 ounces of social skills, I'm just an ass, in the crack, of humanity... I'm just a huge manatee... A huge manateEEeeeEEeEe."

More than just a huge manatee. I feel like a very mean manatee, like an unreasonable curmudgeon making things difficult for you, destroying your weekend, having you treat me to ramen and still thank me for being there with you. I do not take your feelings into consideration. I always want things my way. "PANCAKES. I WANT PANCAKES. NYEH". "I WANT TO PLAY VIDEO GAME" "THIS GAME SUCKS". How do you stand my nonsense? Most of all I just feel like a bully when I saw the look on your face before I left today. Oh God, this pang of pestilential remorse hit me so hard in the head like a massive lorry and I was left helpless and maimed like... erm... Yue Yue. I am a fucking bully. Back in Kindergarten days I used to enjoy bullying my classmates. I knew that doing so would make me detestable, but "being detestable" wasn't enough to stop me from snatching my favourite T-rex toy from the basket or showing off my latest set of crayons, firmly refusing to let anyone lay a finger on them. "I can lend you. Only if you gimme 50 cents." 50 cents was enough to buy a bowl of laksa from the school canteen. It's as good as declaring someone bankrupt in today's terms.

Maybe I just want some drama, some romance. The most romantic thing we did this weekend was probably wiping the marble tiles on all fours in our pajamas. Dragging the big ass carpet like a dead body, sneezing and choking over the air thick with dust and Lysol. No, sincerely, I found that romantic. So was my attempt to spray Lysol into your face like how they use pepper spray on rapists. Very romantic. And that whole towel-wrapping, chest-slapping, hair-styling thing while you laid on my lap? Super romantic. And the part when we were doing people-watching opposite the fountain, looking for strangers that would potentially look like our child... I think we'd make either very beautiful or very ugly babies. No average. But because I think you have potential to look like Wu Zun and I have potential to look like Daul Kim (just to make things clear, this is not self declared) I think we should be more optimistic about our future offsprings. I am however very glad that you share my dislike towards children. My sister once dated a guy who openly announced that he loves children. You know, the type that goes "I want a football team ^_^". Seriously? Football team? Did he forget to take his medicine? You know what I want? A solo tennis team, just me, a shooting machine, and some soft and hairy balls. Mmm.

I don't know whether it was a good or bad decision to throw my temper. It's one of those decisions that's neither good or bad. Like those shirts that look awkward and too formal or even slightly suffocating when you undo 2 buttons, but reveal too much cleavage when you undo 3. Oh wait, that's bad both ways. Forget I said that. I mean, of course I wouldn't say "BRAVO!!! GOOD JOB!!! I THREW MY TEMPER!!!" but I think if this didn't happen, the miscommunication between us is just going to multiply and accumulate into an obese snowball and one day kill us all. Little bickers are healthy. Although it's more than a bicker today ― but since we don't usually bicker... I guess it's acceptable.

You know that song, that song that Ryan Gosling sang so charmingly in Blue Valentine? You always hurt the one you love. (insert crowd aww-ing) Eric asked why I cried, I told him "It's not the I'm-so-mad-at-you-you've-hurt-me-so-bad-I'm-beyond-repair kind of cry, it's the I-love-you-so-much-I'm-so-so-sorry-I'm-doing-this-to-you kind of cry". If it helps to console you ― I also surreptitiously applied some of your cologne on my neck and collarbones so that I could still smell you through the rest of the day.

"How are you?"
"I'm fine, thankyou."

"I love you."
"I love you too, thankyou."

Apa?

2011-10-27T20:08:00.005+08:00

Hello, how have you been? I am doing fine, or at least I guess so. Apart from the fact that I have overspent by roughly $500 this October — god knows where the money went to; and also the fact that a guy caught me staring at his bulging crotch area on the train just now. I mean we were positioned nicely opposite each other, he was standing in front of me and I was sitting down and I don't really have anything else to look at, so it wasn't my fault. Is this the legendary "penis envy"? Or is it just a term coined for horny women so that they are more socially accepted? There are a lot of gender rules set in the Asian society, and even though we are advancing to become more westernised, there are still so many things that are considered abnormal, like guys that own more than 3 facial products on their bathroom counter, and erm... horny girls? Saying that I suffer from penis envy makes myself sound more pitiful as opposed to openly admitting to "OH, YOU KNOW, JUST BEING HORNY", so I'll take the former option. Mom said I am a terrible, terrible disgusting dirty lecherous monster and I probably got the genes from you. Well, thankyou for that. And thankyou for the Coach handbag that you just got from UNITED STATES — FUCK YOU BASTARD, SO MUCH FOR ACTING POOR AND NOT SENDING US MONEY, AND BTW I HAVEN'T EVEN STEPPED OUT OF ASIA PACIFIC IN MY LIFE, AND YOU STILL OWE ME MY DISNEYLAND TRIP WHICH YOU PROMISED ME SINCE I WAS 10, BUT FORGET IT I'M CAPABLE OF EARNING MY OWN MONEY NOW — I am however not very interested in branded bags. Branded handbags to be exact. It just goes to show how much you understand me.

It is disappointing knowing that I've spent most of my childhood worshipping you as a hero who's too busy killing villains to come back home and read me a bedtime story. Perhaps you were a villain killing villains and I'm not sure if that makes you a good or bad guy. Like if Two Face kills Poison Ivy and he's like "Uh oh oops lol" does it make him any less evil, or more heroic? So who exactly are you? What is your role in my life? Sometimes I think you've long forgotten about me but no, you see, at least you got me this stupid girly bag that I'll never use. Sometimes I think I've long forgotten about you but no, since I'm here writing this, obviously I didn't. And I never will.

----------

I spent Deepavali cooking Indian curry with Jean. Actually he did most of the cooking, I just chopped the beef. I think I am destined to have people cooking for me in my life so that I can be the typical bastard who sits around and does nothing until dinner is ready. About my future children, I am also having plans to train them to serve me food when they're about... 6? I'll send them to culinary classes or something. And if they're talented enough, they can eventually apply for Junior Master Chef. When they grow up to become a famous restaurant manager or food editor they will thank me 8)

Pitter Patter

2011-10-23T22:35:00.003+08:00

When I caught Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris this weekend I was ensured that I'm not the only person who falls head over heels with life and the city streets everytime it rains after midnight. A few weeks ago I got woken up by the rain around 4.30am in the morning and I got out of bed, opened the windows and listened to Léo Delibes' Flower Duet with only one earpiece on so that I can get that epic rainymood.com effect together with my music in real life. While shivering. And trying to have control over homeostasis by positioning myself nicely so that I could get the perfect amount of tiny raindrops splashing onto me, making sure that I can continue shivering at a comfortable rate of approximately 1 shivering session/8 seconds and not end up catching a cold.

Rainy nights romanticise everything. If cooking an Italian meal together is rated 76/100 on the romance scale, cooking an Italian meal together on a rainy night will be rated 86/100. Slow dancing to Damien Rice - 81/100. Slow dancing to Damien Rice on a rainy night - 91/100. Tickling each other and giggling and rolling around in bed like idiots - 98/100. Tickling each other and giggling and rolling around in bed like idiots on a rainy night - boomz.

I have never kissed in the rain and I would like to kiss in the rain someday like how they always do in the movies (think: Spiderman, The Notebook), because it's such a cheesy but important thing to have in your bucket list. Except that you need to be caught in a sudden rain together while being outdoors, without an umbrella. Which is, honestly speaking, not very likely to happen. Even if it does happen, you will most probably run to the nearest shelter. I mean given the current rainy season you can make it happen quite easily but it's not going to be spontaneous and romantic.

"Oh eh eh eh oi honey LOOK it's raining outside quick quick GO OUT NOW"
"Huh why"
"JUST GO OUT"
"??? Okay lemme get the umbrella"
"NO DON'T TAKE THE UMBRELLA"
"Huh why"
"I JUST DON'T WANT UMBRELLAS OKAY???"
"Oh... so you want poncho?"

"Don't worry, I got your back!"

2011-10-17T23:28:00.000+08:00

Well if I ever want to have kids it's to keep my dogs company

Unicornflakes

2011-10-17T20:30:00.017+08:00

Coming home to my mom's cooking used to be a daily routine, but now it has sort of become a planned date. Like we have to arrange a day for this special event to sit quietly opposite each other at the long table, with all these dead, boiled, salted animals and plants resting on porcelain plates between us, connecting our worlds together. Then there's always this vase of bright-coloured flower (note: singular) at the other end of the table which makes the situation more romantically tragic. I don't like dinners with my mom anymore. I rather spend my nights out with other people who remind me of the fact that I'm not spending time with her. I don't like to look at her, I don't like her to look at me. Well actually I do, but it's kind of like visiting a cancer patient at the hospital knowing that there isn't much time left already. No, my mom isn't dying, but she's leaving. That's as good as dying. Or maybe worse. This is trepidation busking in its full glory, burning me alive with invisible rays, making sure I die a slow painful death before I can even prepare my will for my pathetic 4-digit savings in my bank account.

This is my mom with her presbyopic glasses. Isn't she pretty? She took off her hairtie and glasses to pose nicely for the camera after this shot, but I walked away. This is exactly the mom that I want to remember.

She was reading about an interview with Jean-Paul Satre. It's translated to Chinese. I told her about existentialism a few months back, when she was, as usual, asking for an explanation regarding my lack of zest towards life. Since then she's been reading up about it. I don't know what's the point of her reading up on existentialism though, with a life as miserable and unfortunate as hers I think Satre's writings are as good as children's bedtime stories to her.

It's been 3 months since I started work at Ace:Daytons. I got my confirmation letter from my boss today, which is probably computer generated, but the computer is so nice and encouraging to me. "It is obvious that you have the desire and talent to go far." Thanks man, you know I'm such a sucker for praises. I don't quite know how to deal with compliments and praises, and also receiving gifts and big bear hugs, but I still like them anyway. I like not knowing how to deal with them.

----------

Last night at Marché I was waiting for Jean to get the pork knuckles which he loves so dearly, my salmon rosti getting cold and the wooden table imbalanced and shaky, jerking every few seconds like how people do when they fall down in their dreams. My breath still smells of blueberry pocky and root beer and the underside of my knees were glutinous — that is, yes, like the rice you eat — thanks to the merciless sun on a... SUNday afternoon. Perhaps it was the cloud of steam that haltingly drifted from the kitchen past his head, or perhaps he's just being that 185cm guy that he is, perpetually standing out from the crowd, but he looked so lovely, skin so pallid, hair so dark, shoulders wide and broad and slightly hunched, and yes, doing nothing but holding a plate of fat and oily pork knuckles. What, why, wh0t, is this love?

Talking about root beer, I was later drunk from rootless beer at Brotzeit, and when I'm drunk I tend to giggle and shout and get entertained very easily.

"DO YOU KNOW??? IF YOU MIX ROOT BEER WITH BEER YOU GET ROOT BEER BEER. HEHEHEHE"

"Square root (beer beer) = Beer."

That's not even funny btw, but it was funny when he said it at that moment.

----------

Hawpar Villa is very creepy. I don't even know how to go about explaining it. I remember when I last went there as a kid I got freaked out by the huge opera masks at the end of the park, and I still was when I went back yesterday. Although it was pretty nostalgic. I can't find my old photos, but I remember very clearly that I took a picture with the sumo wrestler, and so I did again.

Except that it turned out kind of sexual. Which I am perfectly fine with. Look ma, no hands! I also took a photo with the random Statue of Liberty amongst all the Chinese fable characters. This whole park doesn't make any sense. Just look at the angry seal behind the sumo.

Entrance. Looks like bacon.

?¿

I am not posting any photos from the 10 Courts of Hell because I do not like gory stuff.

However, I do like sexual stuff.

Boobs

Panties

Hamsap pig, aptly framed (see crotch)

Some seriously creepy crab lady

Yingying (inside joke)

??? What is this expression supposed to mean I don't even... ¿¿¿

Being romantic

Dried fish

Hehe.
Fuck my eyebags.

Mydiapodaeyes

2011-10-16T00:57:00.019+08:00

Half a can of beer, a tube of drying yellow paint and some Teebs music. First personal drawing in months.

BULAKLAK means flower in Tagalog. MGA BULAKLAK means flowersss. I swear it's so addictive to say it. And they spell cake as keyk. Today Jean asked me if I wanted to eat some cake so I said "You mean cake like, K-E-Y-K" and he was like "YES CAKE LIKE K-E-Y-K. WHO NEEDS CAKES LIKE K-A-C-K???". And he said it with such confidence. Obviously his brain isn't working very well on a weekend. Realising that kack sounds like something else that you can put in your mouth he then asked for my favourite kack so I told him black forest kack. (Btw black forest is really my favourite cake)

Does SIRI come in a male voice? I think that woman's voice might get irritating after a while.

Mama Don't Rike That Prease.

2011-10-09T23:32:00.007+08:00

My mom just came into my room and stared at me very fondly without speaking a word.

Me: ...?
Mom: :)
Me: What?
Mom: Nothing. Just came in to see if you're crying.
Me: Why would I be crying.
Mom: I don't know, I noticed you're in a really bad mood today.
Me: Ya, I'm having PMS.
Mom: Okay.

She walked towards the door and turned back to give me another of that tender, motherly stare which I love and hate so much. Then she walked back towards me, combed my hair, and quietly exited the room.

Now if she came back in again to see if I'm crying, I probably am.

Roughly Tender

2011-10-09T19:43:00.014+08:00

If I left you
Left you on your own
Ahh, James, I too was lost and alone
I miss you nocturnally
I'll love you eternally
I've cried you an ocean in my own little way

----------

I got a scolding from my mom this afternoon because I couldn't find the box of rice in the fridge to heat up for lunch, so I skipped lunch entirely and by the time she came home around 4pm she told me something like I'm useless and that when she eventually leaves me, I'm not gonna die of hunger, but from smothering uselessness. I got very emotional after that because I really do not want my mother to think of her daughter as a nincompoop who can't even manage to find some bloody box of rice in the fridge, but that's the cruel truth. And I just felt stupid, so, so stupid. My IQ should be at least 120-130 but I can't find rice in the fridge. Does that even make any sense?

Dawn is my favourite time of the day. (Also, sometimes, 4am on rainy nights) I spent my Sunday evening sitting on a blue plastic bench, drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, reading my book at the speed of a turtle rolling over glue, and observing the trees and plants and flowers and people and ants and crows. My mother sort of has a phobia for crows, because on the day that her mother got a stroke and died, there was a big crow... well, crowing... very loudly outside her house. Crows have very beady eyes, like blueberries coated with a layer of shine. I wanted to say blackberry because their eyes are black, but I realised that if your eyes resembled the texture of blackberries you should consult a doctor immediately. I really like blueberry flavoured food, because they don't taste like blueberries. Like blueberry muffin, they're so fragrant, so irresistably yummy, but they taste nothing like the real fruit. It's the same case for strawberries.

My iPod came back to life the next morning after Steve Jobs died. Guess he was just playing a prank on me. Not funny. Anyway it shuffled to Blonde Redhead while I was out just now and I am thoroughly convinced that they're my favourite band now and forevermore. Everytime I hear their songs I want to cry. My hearing is getting bad, I can't figure out what people are saying very frequently. Chances are I got some genes from my grandpa because he's been known as some almost-deaf guy for the major part of his elderly years. "Grandpa, how have you been lately?" "HUHHHHHH?????" And most of the time because of social awkwardness I just pretend I understood what people said, so I assume I'm kind of missing out on certain things. It is of course advisable for me to start reducing the volume of my music before I go deaf before I turn 30, but I think it just defeats the whole purpose of listening to music in the first place. I am not taking care of my body at all. Oh, and today I just realised, that neck cancer guy on the cigarette box whose expression is like D:? He has grey moustache.

Shit, I'm really aging way too fast, right? Ever since I turned 20 I noticed there's a massive amount of tiny red dots growing on my arms, like some constellation of stars. So you might think, "Wah, constellation of stars on your arms... isn't that beautiful" BUT NO it is not as beautiful as a constellation of stars because they are red in colour and they might grow and propagate to become little red ants, then aircon lights, then reindeer noses, then big and juicy tomatoes. Are tomatoes or reindeer noses bigger in size??? Anyway Julia said it might be cherry hemangioma, or basically some red version of senile freckles. I AM SENILE! HI EVERYBODY I AM 20 AND SENILE!!! YAAAAHY!!!

I also picked a flower on my way back home. I know it's not nice to pick flowers because umm, you're destroying public property or something, but at least I gave this flower some attention. If not it's just gonna spend the rest of its short life swaying in the wind and also occasionally get engulfed by some garbage smell from the rubbish chutes nearby, feeling all lonely and neglected by people who are too busy to stop by to appreciate their beauty. You know, it's like, you rather die painfully in your lover's arms than to die peacefully in the arms of a fat ahbeng with B.O. Get the drift?

National Service: Watching your sons, brothers and boyfriends dwindle into stinky hairless terrapins

2011-10-08T20:20:00.012+08:00

I swear they look like terrapins...

Well I was supposed to wake up at 5.45am this morning to reach Marina Floating Platform at 7.45am, but I overslept because

1. I had a sumptuous steamboat meal last night. Plus mango sago at Ah Chew Dessert. When I went home my sister saw my belly and she insisted that I'm pregnant
2. It's the rainy season
3. It's the weekend...

Thank god Yingying gave me a call around 7am and I was like "zzz...... ... .. .z... OH SHIT" and basically ran out of my house within 10 minutes. So... I didn't wash my hair. At first I was feeling quite conscious about how I smell, but when we wanted to look for Eric after all the cap-throwing and had to sieve our way through 2000 army boys who marched 24km through the night... Woah. Now we're talking. This is the real smell of exuberant testosterone. Of blood and sweat and dying patriotism for the motherland. Of shaving cream and gunpowder and the fragile skin of their poor abraded groins.

Fuck, they just smell like shit.

... But thankyou for protecting the country anyway.

The most amazing part about this Saturday was that, despite us feeling all sticky and uncomfortable (Suimin didn't bathe either. Hehe), we spent the rest of the day eating good food (Macs breakfast, salmon rosti from Marché, along with mushroom and cheese ravioli and salmon chowder. And of course, Bundaberg root beer) and shopping with our greasy hair, from City Hall to Somerset, from morning till evening. I got myself a pair of boots, my first pair of proper quality shoes I've invested in actually. Because I'm such a lazy and disgusting slippers person. SLIPPERZ4LYF.

Jiahui and Suimin got vintage sunglasses. Which I also wanted to get, but I can't pull off glasses with gold rims, I just look like a psycho child rapist. I also bought a new Casio watch. A new sweater. A new raglan shirt. I haven't gone shopping for months and I usually don't enjoy shopping, but today just had the right vibe. We even spent quite some time trying on heels at New Look - Just. For. Fun. Because we know we're not the heels kind of girls and we're not gonna buy any. But still. Just for fun. By the end of the day we were sooo exhausted it's as if we had our own 24km route march.

PS: Jean brought me to try authentic Filipino food on Thursday. It's hard to describe their cuisine. It's a little bit like Thai, but not so Thai. A little bit like Malay, but not so Malay. A little bit like Chinese, but not so Chinese. Just exotic on the whole, I guess.

And because I slept less than 6 hours on a bloody Saturday morning - GOOD NIGHT NOW. (9.03pm)

¿wtf?

2011-10-07T01:18:00.013+08:00

My iPod touch died on the day that Steve Jobs died. One minute it's blinking with purple lines and another minute it's just permanently stuck at the Apple logo. I can't switch it off. I didn't pay for this so I'm not saddened by the death of the iPod but rather the lack of music on my train and bus rides. It's plain torturous. Clearly he knows that I'm not the biggest Apple fan and he's trying to be funny with me. I don't know if this is a biased statement, but I think Apple products aren't made to last long. They're like some tender, special, pretty species of plant whose seed you secretly stole from the universe of Pandora while PCs/Nokias are like old and ugly but sturdy trees. One thing I need for my gadgets is not functionability but... toughness. Like I just want to throw it around and drop it into toiletbowls and let a herd of wild horses run over it and then, slowly and nonchalantly, walk towards it and pick it up like a boss. Oh well. Huge respect for this guy though, as an entrepreneur and world leader. Thanks to him people nowadays are spending half their lives swiping their fingers up and down and left and right. Good finger exercises. When the current generation of kids grow up they won't be saying "Heyhey check out my huge biceps" but "Heyhey check out my fucking flexor pollicis brevis".

I still can't get over the iMat joke.

It's 1.34am and I'm still wide awake because I had 2 cups of kopi gao at 9pm+. I guess that was a mistake, but a small one, because it's Friday tomorrow.

This is Trouble

2011-10-03T22:15:00.028+08:00

Mom: Why is your face so sulky all the time
Me: Because I am sulky
Mom: Why
Me: Because I am unhappy
Mom: Why are you unhappy, aren't you in love? This is supposed to be the happiest time of your life!
Me: Just because I'm happy in love doesn't mean I am happy with my whole existence. Just because you like one song doesn't mean you like the whole album.
Mom: My dear, if you aren't happy at this stage of life, I don't think you'll ever be happy. It just goes downhill.
Me: Ya I know, and the thought of that just makes me even more unhappy.
Mom: ... What kind of depressing books have you been reading again?
Me: Nothing. I'm reading something romantic now.
Sister: Oh well. It's all in your mindset. Bring back your innocence! You need to stop thinking too much. You are unhappy because you think too much.
Me: The fact that you need to tell yourself to bring back your innocence and to stop thinking so much very evidently shows that you are not innocent and are thinking too much. This is called self delusion. If there is no Kentucky Fried Chicken dangling in front of your face to tempt you, you don't have to tell yourself that there is no Kentucky Fried Chicken dangling in front of your face to tempt you. There is simply no Kentucky Fried Chicken. So when there is obviously a Kentucky Fried Chicken in front your face, then there is obviously a Kentucky Fried Chicken in front of your face, and there is no way you can escape the truth. Ying and Yang, Life and Death, Chicken and No Chicken, one cannot exist without the other.

He tiptoes like a cougar

2011-10-01T15:58:00.014+08:00

AAAAAAAAA IT'S OCTOBER

I am so useless when it comes to simple daily chores like... vacuuming, folding the clothes, opening an envelope. Because of that I clumsily tore my letter from POSB, some useless "Statement of Unposted Transactions" thing that tells me how much I withdrew or deposited into my account over the past few months. Actually I don't really care, I just want to look at the final balance at the end. When it comes to things like art and music, looking at people, and looking at nature, I like to zoom in into the details, but anything related to numbers - prease, give me a break.

My mom likes to do personality tests a lot, it's as if she's still 13 and gets excited about all these stupid quizzes that claim to know you better than you know yourself. What cocktail are you? Which part of the lift do you usually stand at? Are you a ninja or a pirate?. She just handed me this whole stack of magazine cut-outs of personality tests. "Bring these along to see Jean later? You can get to know both your personalities better ^_^" Mom, I'm 20, I'm stuck at this unfortunate age where I'm too young to be taken seriously and too old to be fooling around mindlessly. And the last thing I want is for some anonymous quiz editor to judge my character based on what fruit I would imagine my lover to be if he ever becomes a fruit one day (true quiz - found on U-Weekly issue 68). As if I'm not misunderstood enough already.

(By the way, I chose tomato out of the 4 options: watermelon, eggplant, green pepper, and tomato. Jean looks most like a tomato. Actually sometimes I think he looks like a char siew bao.)

Last night was relatively youthful, we caught Friends with Benefits at 1am (Mila Kunis is very hot - hotter than Justin Timberlake I would say. I kept thinking about his younger days with Britney Spears). That's an effort worth applauding for a group of tired OLs. I haven't felt so young in a long, long time. It's sad, I know. We had dinner at Oriole Cafe & Bar and we even opened a bottle of chardonnary wine (oh god, what an ADULT thing to do). Everything's good accept for the near 1-hour wait for our dessert. Some affogato thingy. Which was really delicious, but not worth an hour's wait.

The other day I met a mad man on the train, he was young and actually pretty good looking, but clearly deranged. He was charging towards people and poles and stuff like that, and talking to himself very enthusiastically. "IGUANA GREEN!!!! Oh yeah... 2 kilos, 3 kilos... Wow that's hazy... Wash away... WASH... WAAAaAsh.. WHOOOO!!! Buona Vista!!! (the train was at Kallang btw) YAY!!! YAYYY!!! YIPPEEEE!!!!!!!!!" and proceeds to jump around like a monkey. Then a moment later I saw a father having a race down the pavement with his little toddler and laughing away so gaily, and then there's this old hunchedback lady picking used cans from the dustbin, and then there's this funeral going on at the block opposite mine and people are just sitting in front of this dead body with their faces like :|, and all these ubiquitous melancholy and nostalgia in life just came gushing in all at once like a broken dam and blew my mind into a dramatic explosion (think Terrence Malick's Tree of Life).

Gave me a bad headache for the rest of the day.

I'm halfway through David Nicholls' One Day, so far so good. Although I can already sense that it's gonna be another one of those books/film that mislead people and delude them into having this perception of what a 'perfect love' should be like. Evil, evil.

Wa meng ti, Y WE GROW UP.

2011-09-27T21:20:00.031+08:00

This is Althea and I last Thursday

This is Althea and I on April 17, 2005 - also a Thursday.

And yes, DUA CHIOBUS!. We took a whole series of extremely flattering photos like this and it is aptly named DUA CHIOBUS!. Clearly we were fooling around, but it was also during the period of time when I was suffering from low self esteem. You know. Identity crisis, rebelliousness, acting punk and failing very badly (without realising it back then), horrible acne and embarrassing tYpiNgg... they come as a package. There is no way to truly love yourself given such a face as seen above. I was also struggling with my studies. Actually it wasn't a struggle because I didn't even try. I DUN GIVE A SHIT, I AM COOL LYK TAT. I RANK 32/35 IN CLASS, SO WAT?! I DUN GIVE A SHIT, I AM COOL LYK TAT. I ROX UR SOX. THE BOI NEXT CLAZ ROX MY WORLD. WE ROX 4EVAZ. Anyway, back to the point - so by doing things like this I thought I could make up for my lack of confidence, and turn the situation around, such that being a clown and making a joke out of myself made me feel more confident. And it did work. Something like Patricia Mok I guess.

Also, I think my font choice is not bad for a 14 year old.

Also also, can you see the noticeboard at the back? It says "Animal Farm" at the top left corner. We read that for literature class. I think it was the first proper book that I read and sincerely enjoyed reading. Althea and I were in charge of decorating the noticeboard if I'm not wrong, cos we were supposedly the more artistic ones. I wish I could meet the 14 year old me and say hi. Usually people would want to slap their 14 year old selves, but I think I'll skip that, I'll be nice to her and tell her "Look, in the next 6 years you're going to change a lot, your ambitions, your habits, your mindset, your outlook to life, your body and your fat fugly face, but just go on being yourself because everything's gonna be okay... More or less." Actually if I saw my 20 year old self as a 14 year old I'd freak out. I never imagined myself to be like who I am today.

Just now on my way back home I saw a crippled old man doing his very special acoustic rendition of Wa Meng Ti with nothing but his raw vocals and a red tambourine. He sounded very joyful, shouting the tragic lyrics out loud like a wild animal; "WA MENG TIIII WA MENG TIIIIII, KAM YE TAAAAANG, MAI CHONG DIIII!!!!!!!!!!!11111 :D :D :D" with his broken, rotten teeth proudly jutting out through his wide grin. And I swear his tambourine playing was hardcore. I gave him 50 cents.

One thing I really like about Twitter is the #replacesongnameswith____ trending topics. The other time there was Sex on Curry by Kings of Leon, now there's

I know it's not gramatically correct because there's no such thing as A cum, but. Ya. You gerrit.

Jean, you need to get back from your fucking capsule hotel and geishas and sashimi and hentai shops (¿) soon, because I am starting to forget who you are, like how I forgot I had a mother when she left for merely 2 weeks. How I Met Your Mother -> How I Forgot My Mother.

Exposed on the cliffs of the heart

2011-09-25T00:21:00.002+08:00

Exposed on the cliffs of the heart. Look, how tiny down there,
look: the last village of words and, higher,
(but how tiny) still one last
farmhouse of feeling. Can you see it?
Exposed on the cliffs of the heart. Stoneground
under your hands. Even here, though,
something can bloom; on a silent cliff-edge
an unknowing plant blooms, singing, into the air.
But the one who knows? Ah, he began to know
and is quiet now, exposed on the cliffs of the heart.
While, with their full awareness,
many sure-footed mountain animals pass
or linger. And the great sheltered birds flies, slowly
circling, around the peak's pure denial. - But
without a shelter, here on the cliffs of the heart...

- Rainer Maria Milke

4 Coloured World

2011-09-22T23:05:00.021+08:00

"The face is too yellow."
"The shadow is too red."
"The wall is too green."

I spent the entire day inhaling thinner vapour and hearing and saying ridiculous sentences like this, in the most serious tone you can probably say those sentences in. This rainy morning, instead of mundanely heading towards my office at Redhill (and also instead of snuggling under my blanket... meh), I went to the Ubi industrial area with my senior art director for my virgin press check. He used to work at a colour separation company, so he has great knowledge on the whole printing process. He taught me about moiré patterns, the absorbency of paper, colour calibration (both on screen and on paper), trapping, LPI, DPI, CTP, getting a pseudo 4C look by just using 2 spot colours, and even the old school printing techniques like drum scanning, which are already obsolete in the digital era. He said the old school methods have better colour accuracy though. "Probably around 95% accuracy. Nowadays it's around 90%." He was extremely nice and guiding. The printing guy was also very friendly, he showed me around the place and I got to see all the different machines they use for die-cutting, laminating, scoring, folding, yada yada. The folding one is exceptionally loud. The guy handling it has to wear ear plugs.

The thing about press checks is that it might not seem like a mandatory work to the general public, but you'll be shocked at the amount of attention that designers and printers pay to the colours. It's just ... really anal. In a good way. For every page, and every photo image on every page, we really make sure that everything looks perfect by adjusting the CMYK values; reducing the magenta ink by 2.3%, or increasing the yellow ink by 1.8% percent, etc. Reprint, check, no - another 0.5% of yellow please. That few drops of ink means a world of difference to us. It's a tedious job, but if I were to put it into an analogy, it's probably like going through labour and giving birth to a baby. You've gone through so much for the past few months, nurturing the foetus/project and preparing for the very last stage. Then the due date finally comes and for that few hours you feel like you just want to die, but the moment you see the end product come out from the vagina/printing machine - all your pain melts into maple syrup and butterflies.

(I definitely do not fully understand the pain of giving birth to a real baby, but I think I roughly know, cos I've been secretly watching 16 and Pregnant. It's a retarded show with retarded teenagers who do not know how (or refuse (read: irresponsible men (readdd: there was an episode where the guy spent $500 on a play station + guitar hero, but only spent $15 on an old baby crib from a second hand garage sale or something. Wtf))) to use contraceptives, but it's fun to watch them screw up their lives.) (Lol a lot of brackets I love brackets)

I asked questions, but I was also asked questions. The senior art director (Kenneth) kept testing me on paper grammage - I had to roughly tell the grammage just by feeling it. The problem is, I am extremely bad at estimating. In every sense. Distance, time, weight, the amount of shampoo to squeeze onto my palm every morning. It's always either too much or too little. It is a very serious abnormality, much more serious than my deformed left ear lobe. So I embarrassed myself quite badly. But it's okay, we all learn from our mistakes. Although I'm quite sure this disability is incurable. Kenneth also asked me, "You know those paper they put on the tray in fast food restaurants? How many pieces do you think they can print in one night?"

"Err......................... 2000...? Oh no wait, 5000."
"Nah... 300."
"Oh."
"Thousand."
"!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Apart from all the theory and technical stuff, I also learnt a lot of erm... miscellaneous life skills. He taught me how to deal with nasty clients, how do clients trick us, how do printers trick us, and also... how to trick them back. HAHAHAHAHA. He told me to smile more, and be 10% more sociable. "Just 10%. It helps." I tried to explain to him that I don't see the need to smile if there's no reason to smile - if something makes me smile I will automatically smile. And that the side of my lips are naturally droopy, so I look like I'm sad 24/7, but sometimes I do feel cheerful yet I still look like :[ but obviously he thinks it's just an excuse. He told me that he understands how "artists are mostly quiet and tend to keep things to themselves" and that "I used to be like you when I was young". Oh god, this is probably the third time I've heard this from a senior in the creative field. It's so depressing. It's like they all just stop drawing after a while and give up chasing the grand artist dream and resort to facing reality in the end.

BIG SIGH.

Also, there was a lot of smoke breaks in between because he's a heavy smoker. Oh we're waiting for the client, let's smoke. Oh we're on our way to get some kopi, let's smoke. Oh we just finished eating our chicken rice, let's smoke. Oh we're at the carpark, let's smoke. Oh they need another 20 minutes to reprint that, let's smoke. :|

All in all it was a super rewarding day. In just one day's time I've learnt 100x more than what I've been taught (or was I even taught anything... *roll eye roll to jurong west*) during the pretech module in one month. Today's experience has reassured me that 1. I have made the right choice to not further my studies because schools are a fucking waste of time and money and they are fucking useless (I mean even excluding today, what I've learnt in my 4 months of working in the real world is much more than what I learnt in the past 3 years in school), and 2. I think I have chosen the right career path... somehow. Even though I don't wake up enthusiastically every morning and look forward to starting my day at work... it's like. Just adjusting the cyan ink by a mere 0.5% and feeling good about it, makes me want to cry :'S

Oh and Lykke Li's concert last night was amazing. She's so talented. Although in my opinion Blonde Redhead's concert was still more mind-blowing, and I am also very pissed off with the knnbccb girl (watch 2:21 of this video) who jumped onto the stage during the last song and stole Lykke Li's limelight away. If I were Lykke Li I will snatch the microphone back, hit her head, kick her off the stage and give her the middle finger, but that is very unlykkeli (unlikely, gerrit gerrit hehe).

I also met up with Althea today, for the first time in 3 years or so. We relived so much of our good memories together. It's been 7 years since we met in secondary school. Can you believe it???!?!! It really scares me, how time has passed so quickly and how much things have changed. Anyway if you want to have an idea of how awesome Althea is - have a look at this spoof of The Noose: (she is Lewlew instead of Lulu cos her surname is Lew. And Ah-thee-ah for the Leticia part)

It's Friday tomorrow, so yay. And pay day's in 3 days' time, so yay yay. But we spent $800 on aircon repair today and I have to contribute $200 to it, plus another $200 standard monthly contribution, so that's $400 gone in an instant. Fuck the stupid aircon. I guess I can't pamper myself with CDs and books and good food next month. Saving is important. Bye.

Vouchsafe is a weird word

2011-09-19T23:01:00.005+08:00

I was sitting at my office desk and thinking about how much I hate sitting at my office desk (it's a norm for Mondays) and I scribbled down 3 graphs:

Last night I dreamt of a murder, followed by a miscarriage. I was just the witness for both incidents, but I think that makes things worse. While I was typing the previous sentence one of the tumblr photos from my corkboard flew out and onto my face. It's a picture of a girl holding up a piece of paper that reads "Because enough is never quite enough. What's enough?". Maybe the heavens are trying to tell me something. But I am too listless to decipher this godsent message. I am very tired, I want to sleep poreber. Bye.

Ding!

2011-09-18T23:13:00.014+08:00

"I learned through my body and soul that it was necessary to sin, that I needed lust, that I had to strive for property and experience nausea and the depths of despair in order to learn not to resist them, in order to learn to love the world, and no longer compare it with some kind of desired imaginary vision of perfection, but to leave it as it is, to love it and be glad to belong to it." - Hermann Hesse

So I was walking home, listening to "Me and You" by Micah P. Hinson and pondering over the brevity of life with my eyes set on the swaying tree branches almost seamlessly blending into the starry night sky, feeling the magic of the universe running through my veins, when I almost stepped onto a cat. Stupid cats.

Now your pillow has your hair grease, my hair grease, your drool, my drool, and... tada! My precious, sexy, salty tears. Yumyum. Tomyum. God I love tomyum.

Have you seen those stupid HPB campaign posters around town?

"AIM FOR 150 MINUTES OF PHYSICAL ACTIVITIES A WEEK! LET'S GET ACTIVE TOGETHER ANYTIME, ANYWHERE!"

Sure thing. On Thursday I attempted to jog for the first time in 3 years (not because I saw the stupid advertisement), from my house to school, and I almost died. The sole of my running shoes (which I haven't worn for a long long time, so long that the plastic parts have turned yellow) came off at the end. My ears hurt and I wanted to vomit. I had muscles aches for 3 days after that. I don't even know how jogging can be exhilarating or rewarding in any way. I mean, considering that I am as unfit as an old cow, that short 1km jog should feel like a tiny little pat on my shoulder, BUT NO. I do not ever want to jog again for the rest of my life. This is not a mere passing remark like an angsty teenager's "I HATE THE WORLD AND I WANT TO KILL EVERYBODY". I am serious about it. I do not want to jog ever again. I am sure there are other physical activities that are more fun and equally rewarding.

My mom is back from China, my sister and I woke up at 3am on a Saturday morning with puffy eyes and foul breath to fetch her from the airport. I looked at her face for the first time in 18 days and she seemed almost like a stranger to me. It's like I almost forgot I have a mom. She looked younger, prettier. She was wearing a floral shirt with black blazer over it and her hair was nicely curled. I gave her a peck on her right cheek, and then on her left cheek, but the second kiss was kind of forced upon me because she volunteerily pasted her face onto my lips. The first one was sincere though. Now my havoc days are over. I have to fold my clothes properly and arrange my facial products in a neat row and make my bed every morning to make her happy. Pblfeah.

Say pblfeah after me. Pblfeah.

Ex-bistro

2011-09-13T00:51:00.007+08:00

I just found in my journal, written on 30th March 2010, 4.14am, during my secret pilgrimage across the exotic island of Singapura (yes I packed some essential stuff and left house for 2 days and 2 nights. I slept on the streets. I washed my face in public toilets. I ate plain bread. Just felt like pretending to be a hobo for a while) (I wrote this outside Wheelock Borders, back in her glorious days):

"Borders' slogan is "Where minds meet". Really? Where minds meet? I visit Borders at least once a week and I have never met any minds."

Hahaz, so cute last time ah.

2011-09-11T23:45:00.000+08:00

Where can I find another man who will calmly read me roti prata reviews over the phone when I cry in the middle of the night?

Too Precious to _____

2011-09-11T20:42:00.020+08:00

I watched Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and The Diving Bell And The Butterfly this weekend. They were all amazing. I cried a few times. I love movies that make me cry.

My mom just texted me, about how much she misses us, especially during times like Mooncake Festival where families are supposed to gather around like a mooncake (btw, I'm fucking sick of mooncakes already). Some day last week my sister and I were sitting silently at the dinner table and staring at our new lemon mint plant (recently plants have become an important part of my life, there's my darling little money plant on my office desk, and Jean and I got a basil plant which we also treat like a pet). She said she feels empty without our mom by our side. I just nodded my head. The thing is, I have come to realise that I do not want to feel so much for my mom (or, human beings in general), because I know she's gonna leave me one day anyway, so if I don't bother about her presence now, I won't have to deal with her absence in time to come. I just really hate things like separations and departures and distances, whether physically or emotionally. You know in the past I never really understood what people meant when they say "I love you so much it hurts", like hurt what, hurt where, why hurt? But now I know. It's like I want to stuff all the people I love into my pocket and carry them with me all the time but at the same time my pocket might get too heavy. Or like, they start falling out of my pocket... or you change into a pair of shorts that doesn't have a pocket and now you don't know what to do with the bunch of mini people waiting to get stuffed into your pocket because they're so used to being stuffed into your pocket.

It's so surreal that it's been a decade since the 9/11 tragedy happened. 10 years ago I was an innocent school girl who just wanted to become a music conductor (and also collect Pokémon cards) (and watch 环珠格格). I remember we prayed for the victims after morning assembly at school. 10 years later I'm suddenly an working adult (not a music conductor), my boobs are bigger, I have new moles and a PMS pimple on my chin, and I woke up to make beef salami guacamole pepper cheese sandwiches.

What a nightmare.

Oh, nightmares. A few days back I dreamt that I was in love with Satan. I'm not sure if he's Satan or just another average devil. You know, red skin, a pair of horns on the head, cunning eyes and an epic goatee. But ya, basically we were very in love with each other and we wanted to make love but he said "Oh nonono, everyone's watching", so I looked out of the window and I really saw people popping out of every window in the opposite building, ready to watch the show. Then I pulled down the blinds and said "Okay now they can't see anything ;)". The next moment he took out a machine that is supposedly used to draw women's blood out from their arms, and he told me he needs to draw my blood before we make love because it's a standard ritual, but I got scared and I was like "NnoooOOOoo AAAAHHH" and started running away. Of course it was followed by him chasing after me but I can't remember what happened after that. I don't know if I should be happy or not that I didn't end up having sex with him because it would either be very interesting, or very disturbing.

I am finishing No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai. I think I enjoyed the movie more. I kind of feel that some essence of the book was lost in translation. On Saturday I went to Kinokuniya and I saw Eric Khoo and Yoshihiro Tatsumi and Tetsuya Bessho (very hamsum in real life) and their team, promoting the new upcoming film Tatsumi. I bought 5 new books, including One Day by David Nicholls (the movie is releasing late October), Great House by Nicole Krauss (because The History of Love was :'S and I'm hoping to feel :'S again) and Chuck Palahniuk's latest novel Damned, which is basically about hell and death, and yes, the cover features Mr. Satan.

No I am not obsessing over Satan. I haz luv and peace in my hart. He iz bad b0i. Bad b0i no haz luv and peace in his hart.

And this is Eric's wartorn photo of us after his torturous field camp. It makes us look as if we graduated in 1942.

Bring the North Star down

2011-09-05T23:35:00.014+08:00

My office money plant is being very virile, 5 new leaves so far. I don't know what to do with it other than to water it, and give the leaves a quick wash every now and then to remove the layer of dust lying on top, so that it looks shinier. I treat it like a pet. I love its company and just by looking at it makes me happy. I want to nurture it into a forest. I wish I could do more things with the plant (¿) like take it out for a walk and a smoke break or something.

I have also been drinking a little bit more recently, because I bought an antique 7 oz leather flask (which I spent over an hour painstakingly sterilising by filling it with vinegar and hot water and detergent over and over again and shaking it like a bitch) last week and yes, I have been bringing it around with me everyday. I filled it with Absolut Apeach. Nobody will know what I'm drinking from it anyway, I can put Nutritea inside, pretend to stagger my way through the train cabin, and people will simply assume that I am a horrible drunkard. Which is something I wouldn't mind being.

I am also learning how to appreciate the pure bitter taste of coffee. I never quite liked coffee; I only started drinking it regularly this year. I treat it as a symbolism of me unwillingly waddling my way into the mud pool of adulthood. I don't know, as first the bitterness is too strong, but after a while you'll kinda grow to like it. Sort of like pleasurable pain. The way the aftertaste lingers in your mouth, it's like life and its unavailingness slow dancing at the tip of your tongue. I have also just learnt how to use an espresso machine at Jean's place. Previous to that, espresso machines only existed in The Sims.

Let's see... what else did I learn recently? I learnt that I prefer clear tomyam to thick yomyam. I learnt that Yoko Ono is nearly 8 years older than John Lennon. I learnt to confide and love without speaking a word. I also just learnt that this world definitely does not run based on meaningless randomosity, because just 2 hours ago, shortly after Jiahui mentioned about Happiness Is A Warm Gun and left my house, I put my music library on shuffle and that song came on first. That is a 1 out of 14,180 chance, mind you. It can't be just "mere coincidence". It's a perfect example of billions of invisible chemical waves and explosive neutrons forming their network and and working their magic in this world.

I believe in fate.

Today I realised that I am a person mainly driven by emotions, that the worst feeling is not to feel angered or betrayed or tired or glum - the worst feeling is to not feel anything at all, to be completely desensitized to human beings. So I thought, immersing myself in all these depressing books and films is really not a deliberate attempt to destroy myself. In fact I'm doing quite the opposite. Just trying to save my poor little soul and to keep myself constantly feeling alive. If I really wanted to destroy myself I can shoot myself in the head or jump out of my window or put my head in the oven like Sylvia Plath. So many ways to destroy yourself instantly.

But no, I will try to live this life.

54km/h flight

2011-08-31T00:43:00.016+08:00

Listening to Bach's cello suite at 12:53am, drinking honey water, reading the short author introduction of Chuck Klosterman's Killing Yourself to Live and getting too affected to even continue to the first chapter. I really should switch to reading Sophie Kinsella.

I feel like a piece of forlorn pancake and I do not want to listen to anything written in major keys for today.

Half my office is sick (almost like an epidemic), Jean is sick, but I think my immunity system is doing very well.

My mom's gone back to China for a while, I can take my time and come home at 13pm and nobody's gonna give a shit. I can throw my clothes all over the floor, I can choose not to make my bed for 15 days. I'm not saying I'm happy my mom's away, I am just enjoying this temporary freedom very much. I like the feeling of being independent. As much as I like to walk down the streets at night alone, wind blowing in my hair, and nothing but nothing in my head. Because it makes me feel independent. Although in reality there is really not much difference in my life circumstances when I am, say,

a) walking down the street alone at night, or
b) doing a breakdance head-spin at a party with a crowd cheering for me

because I am still Zhou and Zhou is still me and I am still Asian and I am still 164cm and my teeth are still stained and I still get pimples on my forehead and my left shoulder still cracks and I am still a very tired 20 year old and the Earth is still spinning like my head is spinning on the dance floor.

It is extremely depressing knowing that I am still 20 years old and I still probably have another 50 years to go and oh god, I am already tired. Like, ya I know life is precious and I'm only at the beginning and there are still many wonderful things waiting for me to experience; I have yet to earn my first promotion, I have yet to get married and have children, I have yet to take the train down from London to Paris and see the sakura blossoms in Japan blahblahblah (quote: Ke$ha) but hello, can we please move on. Fast foward like DVD players. Skip my turn like Monopoly Deal. Or speed suicide in tetris when a game goes wrong. What for live so long? Hummingbirds only live for three years and they seem happy enough to me. I mean, they are the only birds that can fly backwards. That is dope. It is better to live 3 years feeling dope by flying backwards than to live 30 years (or more) having no obvious purpose in your life.

Also, how come Hurricane Irene is called Hurricane Irene? And Hurricane Katrina? Why are they all girls? How come there's no Hurricane Jeffrey or Hurricane Bob? Or Hurricane 小明...?

It's september!!! The year is ending!!! My youth is ending!!! My life is ending!!! The world is ending!!!!111

Escapade

2011-08-28T02:53:00.014+08:00

As a full time OL, sheesha+beer sessions seem to be the quickest fix to my incessant lethargy.

I got my pay in for August and I felt motivated by money just for a while. Maybe like seeing a rainbow after a rain. But then again it's not like I wanted it to rain in the first place.

I have decided that I want to keep track of everything that I spend on for the following month, so I know where exactly my money is flying away to.

On Friday I spent:

1. $1.50 on pulpy orange juice and $1.80 on a "Moonlight Box" from Q-bread. Don't question its name. It is the main selling point of the bread. To me.

2. $6.50 on Ikea's organic pasta with meatballs, and $0.90 on chocolate mousse. I shouldn't have bought the chocolate mousse, it wasn't very nice anyway. My male colleague by the name of Mervyn had 20 meatballs, while my other female colleague Ruth only had 5. The auntie beside us asked, "What is in the meatball???" so Mervyn was like "Beef and pork?" and the auntie scrunched up her face and gave a very vehement look of disgust. "BEEF??? Eew, I wouldn't eat that." So we were like "Uh did she just condemn all our meatballs :|". Ya end of story.

3. $1.50 on a pot of money plant to put on my work desk. It should improve my mood and give more meaning to my life. I am also hoping that it will produce a bit of fresh oxygen for me because the air in the office is very dry. It is also good to take a break from using the computer and stare at green stuff once in a while to give your eyes a rest B)

4. $4.70 on a pack of Nutritea + Sunkist orange juice. I really quite like orange juice.

5. $0.10 for the busker at Redhill MRT because he was playing Romance D'Amour. Usually that guy's guitar playing does not impress me (which explains the $0.10), plus he hangs a very creepy bunny plushie at the corner of his music stand. But Romance D'Amour? ✓✓✓.

On Saturday I spent:

1. $20 to top up my EZ-link

2. $20 on dinner

Ya. Quite clearly a big sum of money is being spent on food and drinks and I don't know how to solve the problem.

"It's not the end."

2011-08-25T00:07:00.009+08:00

Why am I such a pessimist? When I am drinking a glass of good beer I think about the day I'm gonna be diagnosed with liver cancer. When I'm laughing over silly jokes with my mother I think about the day she's gonna be lying dead and still in the coffin. When I'm caressing Boon Wee (that is Jean's new nickname)'s stubbly chin I think about how we might one day be screaming and fighting each other like we were never in love before. When I read a book I like to secretly peep at the last page even before I start the first chapter. As much as I like a bit of unknown mystery in my life, I tend to always have the final destination (no, not the movie) in my mind no matter what I do. It's a deadly habit to have; it kills a lot of potential happiness that can be experienced and embraced at many living moments. But... I really can't help it. It's like asking Obama to grow Bob Marley's hair. Not possible, and even if it's possible, it's not ideal either.

Root of the problem? I don't know. But I'm pretty sure that seeing all these ugly acts around me played a huge part in destroying my ability to view life positively. On my father's side alone there are already 6 dysfunctional families, so for me, extramartial affairs and divorces are almost as normal as... eating pancakes. "Oh no Jane, sorry to hear your parents divorced... Let's go have pancakes? :D" ...ya. Still, it's an extremely horrible thing to do, and to know of. That's just love problems alone, not forgetting money issues and corruption and lies and scams and slanders.

I did not grow up in a so-called 'perfect family', but it was perfect in its own little way. I wouldn't change anything if given a choice now. Much of my pessimism comes from it, but I'm thankful for it because now I'm not stupidly naive, even though I wish I were. My childhood was... uh, generally nice. I can still remember waking up at 6 in the morning and munching on cheap slices of creamy cakes from the neighbourhood bakeries for breakfast, while my mom lovingly combs my long Huang Fei Hong hair and ties it in a neat plait. Then I will double-check the books in my bagpack according to my timetable, change into my blue pinafore and velcro school shoes (extra clean and spammed with Shoe White on Mondays (read: refrain from getting stepped on while playing Pepsi Cola 123 during recess)) and walk to school while repeatedly pressing the buttons on my favourite turquoise plastic digital watch just to hear it go "beep". That was really true happiness. It comes in a package with childhood innocence. Then you grow up. You lose your innocence, you start learning the meaning of FUCK and BLOW JOB, your favourite science chapter changes from The Nine Planets to Human Reproduction, and evil dirty thoughts begin to infiltrate your mind. Then you slowly realise that you're no longer happy.

Well. At least I'm still aware that I enjoy drinking a glass of good beer and laughing over silly jokes with my mom and caressing Jean's stubbly chin. Charles Bukowski once said, "If you're losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose". So, there you go. I'm not in a totally hopeless situation, am I? Life is full of sunshine!!!!!11`~

Don't leave, don't die, we'll live under the rainbow sky

2011-08-19T00:09:00.004+08:00

Walls

2011-08-16T22:32:00.010+08:00

You know there's this theory, that others make up who you are? That you are nothing without the people in your life, because without others you'll never know the relativity of your character to the rest of the world? Come to think of it, it's kind of like the foundation and root of life, right? We're all a bunch of so-called 'independent individuals' but no one's life is fully independent of others. The fact that you were created by your parents already strips that 'independence' away from you. I mean, even Jesus Christ and Nezha have their mothers even though one of them came from an untouched virgin and another popped out from a peach. Or is it lotus flower? Or some shining ball or something.

It's like, we all begin has a blank wall. Then people come along and do all sorts of things to you - write prostitutes' handphone numbers, smear nose shit, lean on you during make out sessions. Drunkards vomit on you, stray dogs pee on you, algae start to grow. (My aunt in China had a garden with low brick walls. As a child I very much adored the thick algae that grew on it. Because it looked like green velvet.) Children hide behind you when playing catching and they giggle and chuckle and pretend to close their eyes while they count to ten. ~~Nezha pops out.~~ And suddenly you realise you're covered with grime and dirt and you're beyond repair. Not in a despairing way, but in a tender, consoling way. Because it's better than being blank.

Walls are very nice things because they provide a sense of security and I like to feel secure. A few examples of things that make me feel secure are:

1. Keeping 1cm of blanket above my chin
2. Walking past my mom's room and seeing her sound asleep like -o-
3. Jean rubbing his right thumb across my left thumb

Also, there are meaningful walls like The Great Wall of China and the Berlin Wall. There are firewalls and memorial walls and walls of fame and walls of shame and wall of death. Not to mention, facebook wall. Wall Street. Wall-E. Walls icecream. Oasis' 'Wonderwall'. And Chris Brown's 'Wall to Wall'.

"My We" by Louie Cordero

2011-08-14T23:59:00.001+08:00

Photos were taken nearly half a year ago during the Singapore Biennale... But late is better than never.

From wikipedia:

The "My Way" killings are a social phenomenon in the Philippines, where the killing of karaoke singers who get into disputes about their renditions of Frank Sinatra's signature tune, "My Way", has led some bars to ban the song and other singers to abstain from singing it. Opinions differ over whether the deadly pattern is due more to the coincidence that the song was frequently sung amid the violence of the nation's karaoke bars or to the aggressive lyrics of the song itself.

In the decade up to 2010, about a half dozen killings occurred in the Philippines in connection with strenuous complaints over the quality of particular offerings of the song, prompting Filipino newspapers to name the phenomenon the "'My Way' killings". The exact number of deaths is unknown.On May 29, 2007, a 29-year-old karaoke singer of "My Way" at a bar in San Mateo, Rizal, was shot dead as he sang the tune, allegedly by the bar's security guard, who was arrested after the incident. According to reports, the guard complained that the young man's rendition was off-key, and when the victim refused to stop singing, the guard pulled out a .38-caliber pistol and shot the man dead.

The phenomenon, in the words of a New York Times article, has "left Filipinos groping for answers" as to why "My Way" would be so deadly for the country's karaoke singers. "Are the killings the natural byproduct of the country’s culture of violence, drinking and machismo? Or is there something inherently sinister in the song?"

Karaoke bars in the Philippines can often be very violent, with fights often sparked over poor singing, and the noticed number of killings connected to singing of the song may simply reflect its popularity in a violent environment, according to Roland B. Tolentino, a pop culture expert at the University of the Philippines. But he added that the song's "triumphalist" theme might also be a factor.

Yet other tunes, just as popular in the Philippines, have not resulted in murder. Butch Albarracin, the owner of Center for Pop, a Manila-based singing school, believes the lyrics of "My Way" increase the violence. "The lyrics evoke feelings of pride and arrogance in the singer, as if you're somebody when you're really nobody," Albarracin said in a 2010 interview. "It covers up your failures. That's why it leads to fights."

"And now, the end is near, and so I face the final curtain..."

"Karaoke rage" is not just limited to "My Way" in the Philippines. "There have been several reported cases of singers being assaulted, shot or stabbed mid-performance, usually over how songs are sung," according to a 2008 report in Britain's Guardian newspaper. In Malaysia in 2008, a man at a coffee shop hogged the karaoke microphone so long he was stabbed to death by other patrons. In Seattle, a woman reportedly punched a karaoke singer in a dispute over the man's rendition of "Yellow" by Coldplay. In Thailand, a man was arrested on charges that he shot to death eight neighbors, one of whom was his brother-in-law, in a dispute stemming from several karaoke offerings, including repeated renditions of John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads".

We can cross barriers

2011-08-14T03:59:00.011+08:00

as we look at our hands our feet our lives our way
the sleeping hummingbird
the murdered dead of armies
the sun that eats you as you face it

you know and I know and thee know

we will defeat death.

- Charles Bukowski

Eden by Kioskerman

2011-08-12T00:16:00.007+08:00

Randomly picked this up at a bookstore and immediately knew I had to get it. I was never into comics, but this one is just... :') :'S :'D :'( :'| . $30.94, but worth every single cent. You can read his comics online but because he's from Argentina, they are mostly written in Spanish. The ones in the book are translated.

"I wanna feel alive and I want to feel... like on fire, you know?"

2011-08-08T22:06:00.012+08:00

Whenever I hear the "ding dong" bell on the bus I think of the intro of No Surprises by Radiohead.

Last night I dreamt that I was drinking whiskey and smoking cigars like a boss and then this little flower girl came to me and said "You should stop that, it will harm your baby". So I realised that I was pregnant and then I told her "Well, there is another solution. I will abort the baby tomorrow then." Such a good mother I am. My mom tells me that there is no point in life if you never fell deeply in love and bear your lover a child. I think I might just end up with an utterly pointless life then. I mean I pretty much think everything in life is pointless anyway, we're all just gonna die in the end. Eat a banana walnut cupcake today, die in the end. Donate $2 to a busker, die in the end. Ride a horse over the desert, die in the end. Have awesome sex, die in the end. Climb to the peak of Mount Everest, die in the end. My job here on Earth is to finish living this life and get done with it. I have come to realise that I will never be satisfied with anything in life and I will never be fully happy. It's such that, I sort of feel better when I'm incomplete, when I'm still in search of something. When everything is laid nicely and properly before me, I feel like I've lost a huge sense of purpose in life. It's like, I was once in search. The next moment, I've finished searching. Now what?

Sometimes I wish I never started reading those fucking surreal/existentialist books because I think they might have just ruined my life in some way. Now my head is full of all these shit ideas that warp and contort my mind to no end, and I can't do anything to erase them. I wish I only read Meg Cabot's stuff or something. Then I can just wear princess tiaras and sequined dresses and marry my prince charming and be perfectly happy with life.

Of course I understand that, since we're all gonna die in the end, we should all try our best to make every single moment of our lives worth living. Right? Right. But don't you ever get tired of that? Like... trying to make everything happen in life. Because it's not something naturally instilled in me, and I have to remind myself to be more proactive/positive towards life every now and then. Then it becomes a chore, and eventually I can't be bothered to continue reminding myself anymore. Like how my mom can't be bothered to nag at me anymore (finally, after 20 years). Sad, I know.

Every morning when I wake up I just look into the mirror and ask myself "Why am I not a chihuahua" or "Why am I not a yummy and adorable xiao long bao" or "Why am I not living in a jungle and having sex with Tarzan". As expected I wouldn't know how to answer myself so I have to get back to reality and prepare for work.

Useless and depressing thoughts aside, I brought my $2 Daiso cushion to put on my office chair today, and it doesn't make any difference... Which is still quite depressing.

Useless and depressing thoughts aside again,

Steamboat Sunday, bitches

2011-08-07T23:54:00.000+08:00

Dongalongdong

2011-08-04T22:09:00.013+08:00

Yesterday my office had a DIY lion dance session, for the grand welcoming of the new fish tanks (or flasks) with 2 fighting fish. We played lion dance music from youtube. Then this guy did a solo lion dance performance using a jacket. We really hung a piece of lettuce which the lion eventually bit off, and also had a 'guest of honour' to cut the red ribbon. Then we had traditional egg tarts. Okay, I don't know what are non-traditional egg tarts, but it came in the olden chinese kind of packaging, so I assume it's more traditional.

Just gave my first contribution to the family fund. My mom is super happy. She's like "Oh my trees are bearing fruits! Bearing fruits!". I don't know why she has to be so poetic and metaphorical when it comes to issues like this. On the other hand, I am secretly unhappy to part with the money given my measly pay. Unfilial_gal91@hotmail.com, ha. I'm not the kind who'd say things like "I'll do anything to make my mom happy". Yes I want her to be happy, but not to the extent that I'll do anything to make her happy. I don't think I'll do anything to make any person happy, actually. I mean even if I'm selfish, I can't do anything to make myself happy anyway. If I could do anything I would leave my job and run away from everything and go somewhere faraway and adopt a dog and busk along the streets. But no I cannot.

Currently listening to Dustin O'Halloran, sipping on pepsi + orange vodka and thinking about how broken people are and how they will never be fixed. Of course they can always get better, they can find their dream job and their perfect lover but there will always be something missing. Something you can't quite put a finger on, like that mysterious itch near your elbow which you can't exactly figure out. You know there's this clichéd saying, like when you glue a broken vase back together, the cracks are still visible. Yeah, that's it. Or if you want a cuter analogy - you can crumble an apple crumble (aha!) and find a way to stick them back (¿) but it is still an apple crumble~~~ and forever shall be.

I really hope I won't live long because whenever I see old people and how weak and helpless they are I just want to cry. There was this old man who cleared my bowl of lor mee after lunch today and his skinny hands were trembling so badly. In my heart I was like "OMG STOP CLEARING MY LOR MEE STOP CLEARING MY COLLEAGUE'S LONTONG STOP CLEARING MY OTHER COLLEAGUE'S SPAGHETTI DSLKJSLSFJLSKFJD CAN YOU STOP THIS AND GO HOME AND REST" but what can I do. He has to make a living. Sigh, life. So full of shit. Can't deny that life is full of wonderous beauty but also can't deny that it's full of shit. Wonderous shit.

1800-X-AHLONG

2011-08-02T20:58:00.006+08:00

I just had my first haircut in 9 months. More like a hairtrim. Hairdressers always say the same things about my hair. "Do you know your hair is very straight and brown?" Ya, duh I know. I have been dealing with it for the past 20 years. Next time I should just continue the conversation with them by stating another obvious fact.

Hairdresser: Do you know your hair is very straight and brown?
Me: Do you know you are a hairdresser?
Hairdresser: ... er? Ya...? Then?
Me: ER... YA... THEN?

And then there was this woman on the train who was playing Fruit Ninja on her iPhone and kept stepping on my toe. Then she switched to her music library and I saw her shuffling through her songs - THERE WASN'T A SINGLE ALBUM ART. Also, some of her songs were not correctly labelled, like

Title: beyonce - keep giving your love to me
Artiste:

OMG THAT IS LIKE 3 MISTAKES AT ONE GO. Firstly she didn't even bother separating the song title and the artiste name. Secondly, it's Beyoncé. Cééééé. And lastly she didn't caps all the words in the song title, like Keep Giving Your Love To Me. How can people stand having such messy music libraries I don't get it. The other day when I uploaded The Tallest Man On Earth's 2 albums onto my iPod, one of it was labelled under The Tallest Man on Earth and the other one, The Tallest Man On Earth, with a capital O. I was about to leave house and was already 10 minutes late but I plugged it back to the computer just to change the small o to a capital O so that it won't appear as 2 separate artistes. Pet peeve.

My eyebags/dark circles are getting a bit out of hand. Or out of eye, I don't know. I was looking at this Garnier something something B.B. cream eye roll at the supermarket the other day but it was $22.90 so I was like "huhwtfz" and walked away. But I think I might have to go get it soon because if this situation goes on for the next 5 years I am going to look like a zombie panda. Not just a zombie, not just a panda. A freaking ZOMBIE PANDA.

2 of my colleagues went for The Cranberries' concert last night and they were playing their songs in the office earlier on. I am secretly jealous, but actually I only know a handful of their songs. Linger, Dreams, Zombie, ~~Panda~~. That's it.

On my way out for lunch yesterday I saw a banner by the Singapore Police Force that read something like "DON'T LET THE AHLONGS CONTROL YOU". Followed by a hotline, 1800-X-AHLONG / 1800-9-245664. So hard to take it seriously. Like the Vietnamese language.

Is it just me or is 2011 passing at an alarming rate?

Possessed of nothing

2011-07-28T21:38:00.014+08:00

(This bug decided to land nicely between my dried flowers and the green coke can glass, on the G7 chord)

I wish I was less insecure. I wish I could unhesitantly jump off the mountain cliff with bat wings attached and go "WOOHOOoooAAAAA" and not care about the consequences at all. I wish I don't have to be 20. I wish I didn't over-binge on the coffee flavoured peanuts that my colleague brought back from Hongkong (or was it Thailand) because it is making me feel heaty now. I want to sleep more than 6 hours a day. I want to have a son just to see how he looks like and how he sounds like and then kiss him goodbye and stuff him back inside and watch him dwindle into a harmless egg cell again. I want to earn more money so that I can give them to the old man who sits outside Bedok MRT every morning with his legs crossed like a buddha and wise-words-of-the-day written on the floor with white chalk beside his stack of tissue packets... and the feeble and bony man with amputated legs who gets off his wheelchair and lies outside Bedok MRT every evening with his face touching the ground and begging for people to buy his big sweep tickets. Do any human beings deserve to go through that much suffering? What does it feel like to be in their state? Who is going to save them? I don't get it. Here people are spending thousands of dollars on Jimmy Choos and on the other side of the Earth there're 20 million children starving to death each year. What... How... Whfdlkskja.

According to the karma theory, you need to accumulate a lot of karma points in order to reincarnate as a human, but when we're human we realise that we just simply want to be a bird or fish or something. If I had a choice I want to be a fierce shamanaragan tiger. Actually, I do not know what is a shamanaragan tiger. I just made it up. But it sounds like a very fierce species of white tiger that likes to roam in the temperate coniferous regions near Tibet. (Does Tibet have coniferous trees in the first place¿)

My sister just asked me to contribute $1000 for my mom's 50th birthday angpao. I said $1000 is more than half of my monthly pay so she said "Okay, I'm giving $1000. We will make this proportionate... alright? You pay like, $688. Add together $1688." So I was like

but the fact is $688 is 68.8% of $1000 and I am far from earning 68.8% of her pay. But oh well my mom is going to be 50, she has spent half her life being completely miserable, so maybe she at least deserves that $688 to pamper herself and maybe buy some better quality vegetables home to cook. What is $688? $688 is just 2752 chweekuehs. So I'm just giving 2752 chweekuehs to my mom. Sounds good to me.

Stir, fry, mix, lick

2011-07-27T23:32:00.005+08:00

Teamwork #3. Carbonara spaghetti - DIY sauce. ;) It's actually quite easy to make. Just cheese and eggs.

Drink it up, buttercup, take it slow

2011-07-23T22:35:00.023+08:00

Can't believe my eyes
Could it really be so
Drink it up buttercup, take it slow
Oh remember, remember my heart

It's so weird to feel high
When a second ago
I was feeling oh so low
Oh remember, remember your heart

Bella being a bella-rina

Had a very chillax Saturday. Woke up, ate green tea cake, played Rock Band, took long bus ride, bathed, took long bus ride, ate mee goreng, ate honeydew sago, read Osho quotes, played with dog, played with Eric (joking), smoked two sticks, drank bubble tea, took long bus ride home again, ate sour & spicy chicken and pig skin and amaranth with rice. 8)

Army boy Eric is now skinnier and tanner and his jawlines are more obvious now, so naturally he looks more handsome. Plus he has no hair. Not that bald guys are handsome but I prefer guys with clean haircuts in general. And I really pity girls whose boyfriends are serving the army because I already miss him so much as a friend. Must take quite an amount of undying love and patience to bear with this shit for 2 years.

Bella, according to Eric, is now more trusting with people. (But I haven't really seen dogs that aren't trusting with people. They are the friendliest creatures ever) She learnt this new pose where she stretches out both her hind legs and drags herself forward while wagging her tail like crazy. I don't know what it's supposed to mean but it's like watching a kid grow up, learn new things, and finding his or her own identity. And she placed both of Eric's smelly socks on her rug/carpet/bed to sit on. So endearing. She is getting cuter and cuter each time I see her :*

As much as I may sound very loving and caring towards animals and children (based on the previous paragraph) - while I was on the bus home just now, there was a baby boy sitting behind me and constantly pulling and playing with my hair. The parents did nothing about it. He kept making this whimpering "ehh ehhh" sound, which is cute maybe for the first 4 times but gets irritating after that. It got to an extent that I wanted to turn around and grab the baby from the couple and throw him out of the window, but of course that is... not very nice. I don't know why I have no maternal instincts and love for children. If I ever have a child I hope that he or she will inherit my quietness as a kid. My mom said that when I was young I was almost completely mute, so I was very lovable and easy to handle. She said she used to put me on the kitchen table while she prepares the meal and I will play with the vegetables and giggle to myself. ¿

Babies... babies. I was staring at the crowd at the bus interchange and thinking how surreal it is that everyone used to be a lame whimpering baby like the one who was pulling my hair on the bus. EVERYONE, from that hippie guy with dreadlocks to the tall and scrawny guy drinking 100plus to the hunching ahma with senile freckles all over her arms. Everyone has parents. Everyone's parents had sex. Everyone's grandparents had sex to give birth to their parents to have sex. So based on that, you can roughly say that the entire humankind is just a bunch of walking microscopic eggs plus tonnes of creamy stuff that looks like carbonara sauce. Really. And we're all formed in just that instant...? Like your dad goes "ahhh ahhhhhhhHHHhhh" and wh00sh all the way it goes and the next moment they've just practically created something out of nothing. If I were a deity looking over people's lives, I will invent a system where I can mouseover people's head like how you do it in MMORPGs, and a little box will pop up above their heads to give a rough summary of the very specific instant when they were created. Accompanying pictures would be a bonus ;)

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I went to Tippling Club with Jean last night, the cocktails there are really very well thought out. They have this apple-pie-tasting cocktail which they serve in a glass wrapped with fake apple pie packaging. Like this:

We also had a classic Old Cuban, a fruity one called "Don The Beachcomber Zombie" (which was served in a tikiman cup), and a "Revolution", which is made of the weirdest combination of cocktail ingredients including tamarind and sandalwood aroma.

I love tamarind juice by the way, I always have it at Nakhon Thai restaurant. Jiahui says it tastes like sweat or something. YOU KNOW WHAT REALLY TASTES LIKE SWEAT??? 白花蛇草水, or sparkling oldenlandia water... Which Mag loves. That girl has the most eccentric taste for food ever.

But but but I I I

2011-07-19T21:48:00.011+08:00

So I was sitting in the living room and my mom was reading her favourite personality test section from the magazine out loud. It's a family bonding thing. We do it every week. This week we were supposed to choose our favourite finger. My sister chose the index finger, which presents work. Du-uh. I chose the thumb and it represents... parents.

Mom: Ya right, parents. You only love yourself.
Me: How can you say that.
Mom: Who do you love?
Me: I...
Mom: Since when have you loved me?
Sister: You where got love me?
Mom: Huh you tell me
Sister: HUH YOU TELL ME
Me: ... :( bye

Es Q me? I am sorry that I never said "I love you" to anyone of you before but for goodness' sake I gave you a prawn (I only had 2.5 prawns) because you didn't have enough ingredients to go with your beehoon last night, and just an hour ago I was busy helping you google for your allergy when you ate some dumb cheesecake and bloody seaweed and started getting hives. If I didn't love you I would have just watched you painfully swallow your plain beehoon, and let you die from scratching your swollen roasted pig face.

You can doubt my ability to solve mathematics problems or handle soiled baby diapers or peel hard-boiled eggs or run 2.4km or sing soprano or do the yoga stretch, but you cannot doubt my ability to love. Y U NO feel my love?

Stay Home Sunday

2011-07-17T13:38:00.003+08:00

Eating fried beehoon sipping on coffee reading Eric Shaw's poems. Sundays are so precious when you're working a mon-fri 9-6 job.

Also, I'm recently on a The National frenzy. Recorded with morning voice + hangover voice, if there is such a thing. Drank 3 bottles of Heineken and smoked a little too much at Haji last night. Blrweaugh

Evening 好

2011-07-16T18:50:00.002+08:00

Today's dusk. 是 chio 的 lor

You put your love above your head

2011-07-16T10:41:00.004+08:00

My mom made me toasted bread with fried egg and lettuce for breakfast.

Me: Mmm yummy.
Mom: You must say thankyou.
Me: Thankyou.
Sister: Better still if you add in "I love you".
Me: MMM YUMMY THANKYOU I LOVE YOU!!!111

Happy happy berry happy

2011-07-15T22:14:00.017+08:00

So I got my paycheck from my freelance client just now, immediately went to 313, and splurged 1/4 of it away on 3 music albums and a shirt. Very terrible financial management. But oh my gosh - I think I've been really missing out on the true beauty of music records (because I am a big bad pirate). The feeling of making a trip down to the CD store, looking through the shelves, picking it up and getting all excited to listen to it when you're on your way home. And trying to cut open the plastic wrap with a penknife as quickly and as carefully as possible. And feeling the touch of the CD cover (nowadays they are all matt, and not in that fugly shiny plastic casing. I think Justin Bieber is still using the fugly shiny plastic casing ¿), and flipping through the lyrics booklet...... Omg I want to cry

Sorry I think I've neglected the importance of the grey shirt and its contribution to my current happiness in this post, but ya I like it. But I like the albums more.

PS: I SAW NICOLE SEAH ON THE TRAIN. Quite starstruck.

长(zhang)头发，长(chang)头发。

2011-07-12T19:39:00.003+08:00

Haven't been to the hairdresser for... the gestation of a human baby.

That's Amore!

2011-07-12T12:58:00.005+08:00

Teamwork #2.
Very yummy korean noodles.
감사합니다.

Genuine Drinking

2011-07-10T19:51:00.001+08:00

Student: "Master, what is the secret to meditation?"

Thich Nhat Hanh: "When you sip your coffee, taste your coffee."

"When you sit in a café, with a lot of music in the background and a lot of projects in your head, you're not really drinking your coffee or your tea. You're drinking your projects, you're drinking your worries. You are not real, and the coffee is not real either. Your coffee can only reveal itself to you as a reality when you go back to your self and produce your true presence, freeing yourself from the past, the future, and from your worries. When you are real, the tea also becomes real and the encounter between you and the tea is real. This is genuine tea drinking."

- Thich Nhat Hanh

Jittering Gold

2011-07-10T13:08:00.008+08:00

Just discovered The Caretaker. Brilliance on a whole new level.

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"Love and other drugs"? This is like being on a drug. I don't know?

When I move along with the morning crowd there is no longer a hefty sense of meaninglessness weighing upon my morning eyelids, people seem to glow like saints and buddhas with happy birds building nests in their hair. I still dread going to work, but at least I do not have angsty thoughts like pushing office ladies onto the train tracks and cutting a chainsaw across the whole row of people (probably Pasir Ris and Tampines residents) who are seated down and sleeping peacefully on the train. I no longer have to spend 30 seconds in front of my mirror everyday in attempt to mould my nose bridge higher, because I know somebody loves my nose no matter how flat it seems to be. And patience - my patience grew tremendously. It's like I grew an extra heart, or my heart grew an extra me... I don't know?

Or maybe this drug gives you temporary amnesia. You forget all your potential problems and unhappy memories in life, just for a while. You learn to dedicate your being to the present moment. You learn to appreciate the little things that people do, and you learn to do little things that people will appreciate. You learn to judge less and bear less grudge. You learn to softly run your fingers through someone's hair without worrying about the amount of sebum and dirt and dead skin cells that will get into your fingernails because all these things are not of any significance anymore. You don't care. You let lose. You dance together to dainty ballroom music like two clumsy idiots, you stumble and you falter and you laugh it all away. It doesn't matter that the future seems more predictable and more daunting... or should I say, less unpredictable and less undaunting?... I don't know?

Someday our tall guarding walls will completely fall apart and we would be all barenaked in front of each other (literally and figuratively). That, albeit being a situation worth celebrating with more Carlsberg Special Brew 8.8%, is unfortunately going to come together with waves of vulnerability and bouts of insecurity. At least on my part, I'm telling you. I've told you before, and I'm telling you now, that one day our hearts might shatter into millions and millions of pieces, into bits of gravel and pollens and microorganisms that will fly to every corner of the world and never be found again. It's gonna be irreversible, like broken shells of the egg, like mashed potatoes, like water balloons thrown against the wall... I don't know?

But rest assured, because as for now, there is nothing more sweet and blissful than combing your caterpillar eyebrows and slapping your face (yes) and listening to your healthy and thunderous heartbeat. As long as we see this through with faith and affirmation, everything will be okay. This... I know.

Getting Humped

2011-07-09T19:49:00.004+08:00

Dogs love me. I love dogs.

PS: Never in your life will you ever see me smile so sincerely to a cat

Plebeian

2011-07-09T09:10:00.015+08:00

I think Daria Morgendorffer is my new idol. I need this printed on a A3 poster and pasted in front of my bedroom door so that my mom can stop telling me things like "My dear why do you always look so gloomy? Smile a little!" I'm sorry? It's not like I am not capable of smiling or laughing. It's just that when I'm simply laying on the sofa like an inactive octopus after a long day at work and watching pointless Chinese dramas on channel 8 and thinking about setting my alarm clock for the next day, there is really nothing much about all those that can make me smile.

First week of work was relatively okay, apart from the fact that my office is all the way at Redhill and there is forever a bad vibe that looms around the west region, and I have to deal with it everyday. For lunch we go to places like Holland V and Ghim Moh and Great World City. I think it was only my 2nd time going to Great World City. The first time was when the mall just opened. Which was in 1997.

Also, our company had a little 'beer appreciation' (very nicely put) session last night where we ordered some pizza and tried a range of foreign beers, because I have a colleague who goes around the world to collect beer bottles. My favourite one was a Scottish light beer called Seven Giraffes with wild elderflowers and lemon zest. Because I do not (and will never) turn red when I drink, everyone assumed that I was a good drinker. Fact is I'm not. So my boss was like "Wow you can hold your liquor well! Come come finish all these" so I really finished them, and went home like @_@. By 10pm I K.O.ed on my bed.

It's Saturday again and army boy Eric failed his standing broad jump for IPPT so he is only booking out this afternoon. I think he got 207cm. Please, I cannot even reach 150cm. Thank god I do not have a dick. But then again if I had a dick I trust that I'd have the capability to at least jump a little further. What is the point of standing broad jump anyway? Do you really have to jump so much during a war? I mean even if you have to jump during the war, I suppose you can at least run a distance before you lift your legs into the air to land on another surface. And nowadays it's all about nuclear weapons, so no matter if you can jump 207cm or 250cm you are going to combust into nothing when the atomic bomb hits you anyway. If the world lived in peace there is no need for military training and the governments could save millions and billions of dollars on research and technology and guns and tanks and planes and bombs. And you can use the money to feed the countless number of starving children in the world.

(if you want the gist of the story - fast forward to 2:55. Or read up on pagpag)

:(

Bambition

2011-07-05T20:44:00.016+08:00

TEAMWORK!!!1 :>

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My sister said over dinner that her ambition is to buy one house for herself and one house for renting and another shop front which she can either use for her own business in the future, or rent it out. She says the shop front itself would cost around $1 million. I almost choked on the xiao bai cai that I was chewing on. I looked at her and said, "ONE MILLION???!?!?!?!!!!" and then she replied, "It is important to have ambitions. Don't you want to earn moneyyy?". I carefully swallowed the xiao bai cai, put down my chopsticks, muttered a halfhearted "lol" and walked away.

Well I definitely have my own ambitions, but my ambition is not to buy 2 houses and a shop front.

My ambition is to be a panda bear so I can wake up in the bamboo forest every morning beside my panda husband and panda babies and eat bamboo rice for breakfast. Slowly stroll my way through the bamboo forest and open my bamboo shop to sell some bamboo furnitures. Play my bamboo flute. Do the bamboo dance with my panda girlfriends. And then return to my bamboo mat at night to make more panda babies with my panda husband. That's all.

Pandas do not need money to buy their bamboo goods because they live in the bamboo forest and the bamboo is free and the bamboo spirit is free and it thrives within all the pandas' hearts, that's why they are happy.

(Although I do know that pandas have extremely short penises (3cm. :|) and they suck at sex.)

It is very important to have ambitions.

Slutality

2011-07-02T04:53:00.016+08:00

When your mom gives you a long irresolute sigh at 4am and the cab driver asks if you're a foreigner despite pronouncing Bedok in the most Singaporean way ever like "Běrrrdòhc", you know you're a total slut. Also, "Friday I'm In Love" finally makes some sense.

Isn't it scary, devoting yourself to someone. Knowing that, as mentioned in the Wong Fu short film - you will either

A) Break up
B) Get married

which are both quite unnerving. Sometimes I think I'm too scared and cautious for my own good. Usually they picture this whole dilemma thing as a devil and an angel hovering above your shoulders and bickering non-stop, but in my case the devil and angel will eventually start making out halfway so I'm like ?¿?. I don't think twice, I think like, maybe 17.5 times and whenever I'm reaching the 18th time I'll go berserk and break down. And come to no conclusion. It's a viscious cycle. But they say life is about making mistakes, whether good or bad, right? Like, you don't want to live till 78 and sit down with your grandchildren and tell them about your life story, and then watch them doze off one by one. And then your last surviving grandson will be like "Ahma you berry boring I want to watch Power Ranger" and walk away to the TV set. Then you cannot take the rejection, and 2 minutes later you will die of a heartattack.

Stone India pale ale is really nice. Mag pronounced ale as "ahleh" the other day. So cutexzx.

Mortal Kombat is very gruesome.
Cigars smell sexy.
Fuck my chest pimple.

Sadyolk

2011-07-01T03:53:00.000+08:00

Broody (adj.)
1. moody; gloomy
2. inclined to sit on eggs

?!¿?!

AAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH

2011-06-29T16:53:00.001+08:00

I WANT TO PUSH EVERYTHING OFF THE TABLE LIKE THEY DO IN THE TV SHOWS BUT I DON'T WANT TO PICK THEM UP LATER. SO I WON'T.

*<:o)

2011-06-29T01:28:00.010+08:00

I forgot to admire your tenderness. I forgot to see your subtle predilection towards the littlest things. I forgot to take your trembling hand into mine and tell you that you don't have to tremble anymore because hey, your taco was awesome.

Seated at the very back of the bus at 12:15AM, I stared into the eyes of the tiny man with a party hat, on the screen of my Nokia N70.

I don't know what to do. With the party hat. With myself. With you. With this.

I confided in my mom this afternoon. Just when she was about to leave the house to buy some persimmons. She put down her keys and sat down with me, then told me a story. I've once read it in a storybook when I was a child, but maybe the moral of the story wasn't clear to me back then:

There were 3 men (let's name them Peter, Paul and Mary. I know Mary is a not a man's name but it does not matter.) stuck in a snowstorm during the cold winter. Their destination was still far away, and there was nothing ahead of them but snow. They were tired, thirsty, hungry, and the cold was getting unbearable. Paul couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to give up. He told Peter and Mary to go ahead.

Peter: "No way, we're in this together."
Paul: "But my legs can no longer work. I'm a burden to you all. Please, just go ahead!"
Peter: "Mary, maybe we can take turns to carry him on our way out of here?"
Mary: "Hahaz don't be funny can't you see we're already fucking dying here."
Peter: "But we can't just leave Paul to die here!!! What are friends for??!!?!"
Mary: "Then what you want sia."
Peter: "Look, I'm going to carry him out of here. I can't just abandon my friend here."
Mary: "Anything you want lor. You want to carry then carry lor. I will go ahead first. Good luck brothas. Ciao~"

So Mary went ahead by himself (yes Mary is a man), and Peter carried Paul on his back, struggling to continue with the seemingly endless journey ahead of them. The snowstorm got stronger, but Peter was determined to survive and save his dying friend Paul.

1 day later when Peter and Paul were almost reaching the nearest town, they saw a body in the snow, frozen to death. Tada! It's Mary. What happened was that Peter and Paul were keeping each other warm all the time, and also giving one another moral support to keep going. And Mary GG-ed cos... she was cold, and alone, and hopeless.

"So sometimes, when you're saving someone else — you might unknowingly save yourself too."

Really? Save myself? I only know that when you're hurting someone else — you might unknowingly hurt yourself too.

Between the islands

2011-06-28T02:41:00.002+08:00

This is pink, this is blue, this is the sky and this is the roof.

2011-06-26T19:48:00.008+08:00

Nothing more beautiful than the dusk and the dawn.

From Wikipedia:

Absurdism

In absurdist philosophy, the Absurd arises out of the fundamental disharmony between the individual's search for meaning and the apparent meaninglessness of the universe. As beings looking for meaning in a meaningless world, humans have three ways of resolving the dilemma. Kierkegaard and Camus describe the solutions in their works, The Sickness Unto Death (1849) and The Myth of Sisyphus (1942):

1. Suicide (or, "escaping existence"): a solution in which a person simply ends one's own life. Both Kierkegaard and Camus dismiss the viability of this option. Camus states that it does not counter the Absurd, but only becomes more absurd, to end one's own existence.

2. Religious, spiritual, or abstract belief in a transcendent realm, being, or idea: a solution in which one believes in the existence of a reality that is beyond the Absurd, and, as such, has meaning. Kierkegaard stated that a belief in anything beyond the Absurd requires a non-rational but perhaps necessary religious acceptance in such an intangible and empirically unprovable thing (now commonly referred to as a "leap of faith"). However, Camus regarded this solution, and others, as "philosophical suicide".

3. Acceptance of the Absurd: a solution in which one accepts the Absurd and continues to live in spite of it. Camus endorsed this solution, believing that by accepting the Absurd, one can achieve absolute freedom, and that by recognizing no religious or other moral constraints and by revolting against the Absurd while simultaneously accepting it as unstoppable, one could possibly be content from the personal meaning constructed in the process. Kierkegaard, on the other hand, regarded this solution as "demoniac madness": "He rages most of all at the thought that eternity might get it into its head to take his misery from him!"

Sisyphus

In Greek mythology Sisyphus was a king punished by being compelled to roll an immense boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll back down, and to repeat this throughout eternity.

The word "sisyphean" means "endless and unavailing, as labor or a task".

The Myth of Sisyphus

The Myth of Sisyphus is a philosophical essay by Albert Camus. It comprises about 120 pages and was published originally in 1942 in French as Le Mythe de Sisyphe.

In the essay, Camus introduces his philosophy of the absurd: man's futile search for meaning, unity and clarity in the face of an unintelligible world devoid of God and eternal truths or values. Does the realization of the absurd require suicide? Camus answers: "No. It requires revolt." He then outlines several approaches to the absurd life. The final chapter compares the absurdity of man's life with the situation of Sisyphus, a figure of Greek mythology who was condemned to repeat forever the same meaningless task of pushing a boulder up a mountain, only to see it roll down again. The essay concludes, "The struggle itself...is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy."

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PS: The animal band challenge week is coming to an end.

I did it.

I ride a swan to your residence

2011-06-26T14:27:00.008+08:00

Noun • a boat that has purposely sailed away, for love, adventure, or suicide

Tagavaka is a word from the Tokelauan lanugauge. This article from Gentlemen’s Quarterly magazine explains:

Sometimes boats are blown off course; there’s even a Tokelauan word for this: lelea. It’s theorized that the very existence of people on the island—it has been inhabited for a thousand years—is because a Polynesian canoe drifted off course. But there is also another, more complicated Tokelauan word: tagavaka. This applies to boats that have purposely sailed away—for love, adventure, or suicide. These days, Tokelauans commit suicide by driving into the open ocean until the gas runs out.

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There is a guy constantly wailing very badly in my neighbourhood like "AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 老天爷!!!!!!!!!!!!" He sounds like his lungs are gonna fly out of his throat anytime and all the way out into the clouds and smack right onto the real 老天爷's face like a pancake. See, life is clearly a suffering.

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I am growing old and frail... My body cannot take overnight LAN anymore. It is sad. I tried Black Ops by the way. I think the only game that can give me an adrenaline rush now is Robot Unicorn Attack. It is sad x2.

(Or maybe also Guitar Hero, okay.)

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Not a fan of anime and manga, but I think this might be the best video I've seen in my life. Replayed it at least 20 times.

The happy and mundane world will vent their anger!

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Phoenix - North

It's amazing how some chord progressions can make your heart swell in melancholia instantly. How does sad music sound sad, how does happy music sound happy, I don't get it. Why are minor chords always perceived as 'sad'? In a standard triad chord it's merely one note's difference, one semitone's difference. So a very out-of-tune singer might just make a happy song sound sad if he sings too flatly or a sad song sound happy if he sings too sharply. There must be a science behind it right? Are there any people in the world who actually feel a burning sensation of gargatuan joy and mirth upon hearing a series of minor chords? Since different synesthetic people see the numbers in different colours, there could actually be a possibility of people finding minor chords 'happy'.

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When people say things like "Love isn't finding a perfect person. It's seeing an imperfect person perfectly." and "Do we control love or does love control us?" and "This is so lame but true", it is really so lame but true.

Folding trees

2011-06-25T00:00:00.006+08:00

WANT TO CRY :'SSS

Each one gets tigher ;)

DIY notebooks; all done from scratch. Measuring, cutting, folding, poking, sewing. Other than the chopping of trees and extraction of fibre to manufacture the paper and thread. Injuries: ~~rope~~ thread burn on right index finger and a miniature hole on my left pinkie poked by the needle.

On Melancholy Hill (Gorillaz Cover)

2011-06-22T23:58:00.007+08:00

Finally put my dusty keyboard into some good use. And I found a dead lizard under my 2-string guitar. GROSSSSssssssssss. And yes, Gorillaz because I am still at day #3 of my animal bands challenge week.

Plus a re-attempt at this song (after one year) that is completely not within my vocal range but I still want to ngieh ngieh sing it. How do you spell ngieh ngieh?

Sand/Savanna

2011-06-22T02:04:00.002+08:00

DIY Notebook: Sand/Savanna
78 pages with 16 mini pages at the front
Coptic stitched with linen thread

O, 啥是爱？

2011-06-20T22:58:00.032+08:00

1. Today I had lunch at Absirthe. Boss' treat. I am always very uncomfortable in posh places like this, plus I didn't know we were gonna eat there so I was in my tshirt and shorts and slippers so I really wanted to kill myself. And to sabo me even further they told the waiter that I am the VIP so I am supposed to like, be the one to choose the wine (whose names were all in French), and be the first person to taste the wine while 7 other people and the French waiter are staring at me. BUT, I DID KNOW THAT I MUST SWIRL THE WINE AND SMELL IT BEFORE TAKING A SMALL SIP. Hahahaha. Complete awkwardness. I had the best foie gras and best beef cheek in my life though.

2. Went to shop at Art Friend and Basheer after that (saw a book called Doppelganger: Images of the Human Being which I reaaaaaaally looo0o0o000ooOOoo0ove, but it costs $89. What the meow), and also spent nearly 2 hours at Fancy Paper,... choosing papers, obviously. Very carefully and thoughtfully. So I just went in circles around the same 3 shelves, comparing the different off-white papers over and over again, picking them up, putting them down, picking them up again, hesitating, going back to my previous choices, repeat. I think it was one of the most indecisive moments of my life. Because I would like to consider myself a very decisive woman. Anyway I just felt like sewing some handmade notebooks for myself, and for some special people. One must note that I am as good as a retard when it comes to needlework so when I take the effort to pick up the freaking needle to sew something for some people, it must be out of sheer love.

3. The book I'm currently reading is amazing. Sum by David Eagleman. It's basically 40 short stories of different perceptions of the afterlife, and they usually portray God as a fictional character with a touch of humour. It opens up your mind to more possibilities of life after death. Strongly religious people might find it slightly offensive but I like how it's very pantheist. Pantheism makes the most sense to me, even more sense than buddhism. Because in buddhism there is a hell and I do not want to think that there is a hell. Not because I am guilty of being a sinner so I refuse to accept the existence of a burning hell filled with evil monsters eagerly waiting to dig out my bowels and skin me alive after throwing me into a boiling pot of oil but... it's just not a nice idea...? I mean, humans are all born to sin, and aren't we all silently suffering in our very own ways already, so why do you want to think about getting tortured even more after ending your mortal life.

And I think, for people who generally do not believe there is a God, instead of being hateful atheists who spend their whole lives (futilely) trying to go against christians and muslims etc (I had a conversation with Eric and Farhana before - that it is not possible to prove that God does not exist. Because you can never prove that something does not exist. For eg., you cannot say "What the fuck banana lovers, WAKE UP!!! There is no such thing as bananas!!!!!1" because if you say the word "bananas" it already means that the idea of a banana already exists and if there were really completely totally absolutely no bananas in the universe, you wouldn't even think the thought that there's no such thing as bananas. Quite a chicken and egg story), perhaps pantheism would be a better and more peaceful option. I am definitely sure that I do not want to worship any God, but I do believe in a... certain magical force within the dark abyss that keeps the universe working and going forward everyday. I will let christians believe in Jesus and muslims believe in Allah and hindus believe in Ganesha and buddhists believe in Guan Yin niang niang, so I also expect everyone to let me put my faith in the trees that grow from the soil that is beside the ocean which is under the starry skies where the bird flies freely in, and the bird will stop on the branch of the tree that grows from the soil that... okay ya.

This is my favourite short story thus far; I don't think it's exactly legal to put the whole chapter here online but I think David Eagleman would be kind enough to allow me to share this precious 1/40 of the book with you:

Waaaaahhhhhh so sweet I WANT TO CRY :'))) :'((( :'SSS

4. Talking on the phone has got to be one of the most slow and painful experiences on Earth. No matter who's on the other end of the line. Your lover, your mom, your best friend, your colleague, your potential employer, your client, your dog trainer, your insurance agent, unknown stranger who dialled the wrong number #1, unknown stranger who dialled the wrong number #2, your new born nephew who goes "gagaagaasdlkjksjdgaagaa". I just don't like it.

5.

.
.
.

The conversation went on for 143 comments. We even went on to play band names with colours and band names with fruits. Siao one.

Rabbit Meat

2011-06-19T14:50:00.006+08:00

If I see another person with the bunny ears iPhone casing I am going to freaking pull their ear until they also become a bunny. ESPECIALLY THOSE WITH THE FLUFFY TAIL. YOU WATCH OUT

I feel so wonderfoo, wonderfoo~~~

2011-06-18T22:17:00.001+08:00

Favourite song from My Morning Jacket's new album, so I decided to do a simple cover on it.

亲爱的臭鸡蛋

2011-06-18T17:06:00.034+08:00

This made me cry.

"Approximately 9% of children under 18 lived with a single parent in 1960; by 2007 this rate increased to nearly 32%. In 2008 in the United States there were an estimated 24 million children growing up in households without fathers."

Hi, happy fathers' day.

I say this because you are my father after all, as in, as defined by wikipedia, "a male parent of any type of offspring." Very nice and lovely of you to come all the way to Singapore to ***% my mother and fly off and leave her behind with a bulging belly.

Although you are my father, I must state clearly that you are not allowed to tell me things like "Daddy wanna talk to you" or "Daddy 送你礼物" because I don't know what is a daddy because I never saw you as a dad or daddy or papa or pipi or pupu or whatever endearing names people call their beloved dads. (Also defined by wikipedia - "A "dad" does not always have to be a child's biological father.") With the amount of drama and commotion and unrest you are stirring up now merely by phone calls, we can no doubt win the Pulitzer Prize if our story is written into a book and the Golden Globe Awards if translated into a film. Or the makansutra certificate if cooked into a local dish. You are more selfish than people who sell fish and more heartless than a heart donor and more worthless than the 5 cent coin in the dirty drain that Singaporeans cannot be bothered to pick up. You are one big grandmother of a male chauvenist pig who thinks that "men are not supposed to cook or fetch the children from school" OH MY GAD somebady save me my head hurts. Also I want to add that by telling us that "No one has truly loved you before", it is only because you never truly loved anyone else before, so nehnehnipoopoo too bad for you. So shatap and get yourself an iPod and go listen to Alicia Keys' "Karma" or Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around". Because the rest of us were all left "Lonely" like Akon when you were all along just loosin' up bitches' "Buttons" like The Pussycat Dolls, so we all kena "Damaged" like Danity Kane and "Hurt" like Christina Aguilera, and then we began to wonder "Where is The Love?" like Black Eyed Peas. So everything you say now is "Blah Blah Blah" like Ke$ha. So now when you realise you're getting old and useless and your dingdong can no longer "Get Busy" like Sean Paul and you wanna turn back to us and "Gimme More" like Britney Spears, it is too late to "Apologize" like OneRepublic (feat. Timbaland). Please just "Leave (Get Out)" like JoJo so we can have some peace and "Just Dance" like Lady GaGa.

I wish things never turned out to be this sour but now it's like all the warheads and vinegar and lemon juice in the world are condensed into a bottle of shower gel that we're covering ourselves in and we're all just slowly rotting in it. Meh.

PS: I just searched "fathers' day" on tumblr and the amount of hate posts is quite stunning:

But on the other hand...

:'S

Clam

2011-06-14T23:42:00.001+08:00

Each one is a small life, but sometimes long, if its
place in the universe is not found out. Like us, they
have a heart and a stomach; they know hunger, and
probably a little satisfaction too. Do not mock them
for their gentleness, they have a muscle that loves
being alive. They pull away from the light. They pull
down. They hold themselves together. They refuse to
open.

But sometimes they lose their place and are tumbled
shoreward in a storm. Then they pant, they fill
with sand, they have no choice but must open the
smallest crack. Then the fire of the world touches
them. Perhaps, on such days, they too begin the
terrible effort of thinking, of wondering who, and
what, and why. If they can bury themselves again in
the sand they will. If not, they are sure to perish,
though not quickly. They also have resources beyond
the flesh; they also try very hard not to die.

- Mary Oliver

Raiiin down, raiiin down

2011-06-11T14:54:00.005+08:00

4 to 5 layers of recording, as usual had fun figuring out the harmonies. My webcam's recording quality suxcox :<

ChickCheck

2011-06-11T12:00:00.006+08:00

I'm sorry I dried up your koi fish. Will you still love me?

2011-06-09T22:36:00.006+08:00

"The Flowers Perfumed The Air", says the shirt on an auntie in Bedok. Poetic, very poetic. Especially in glitter gel.

Today I looped Ólafur Arnalds' Fok to work and looped it back home. Last night I had a nightmare where I watched someone leap to her death, in slow mo, and on loop. If I were to relate Fok to something in particular, it'd be the moment when a person's life flashes by before their eyes right before they die. It's always an important part of a character's death in films, and it usually turns out either perfectly poignant or down right cheesy.

I'm tired. I think I need a break. Books, and people, and random internet articles tell me to look at things from a different point of view. To embrace what I have, to count my blessings. Of course I know how to do that. I am so happy that I can tie a full ponytail and I am so happy that I coincidentally met Junting at Cityhall just now. I am so happy my client treated me to a cup of cappuccino at Starbucks. I am so happy that my mom caressed my oily cheeks and smelly hair last night. I am so happy that I finally understand the story behind why Professor X sits on a wheelchair and I am so happy that I walked pass an auntie whose shirt reads "The Flowers Perfumed The Air". And I can transform all these into a huge amount of happiness that can last me through days. I can wake up every morning like an energizer bunny and bounce my way to work and smile at everyone whom I meet on the train and maybe give them a hug or two and spread on the love and joy starting from the last cabin where I always board at, and it will ultimately reach the train driver on the other end and he will press the emergency stop button and jump out of his seat and push open the door and shout "YO EVERYBARDY, DO THE CHICKEN DANCE!!!~~~" and everybody will put away their stupid newspapers and iPhones and do the chicken dance together.

But in the end, everyone's still tired. Tired from doing the chicken dance, maybe. But I know I'm tired not only because of doing the imaginary chicken dance in my head.

Although my eyes are dry and my neck and spine are aching, although my throat has swollen to the size of a hippopotamus butt (not exactly), although I have to handle an office job in the day and freelance job at night, I will handle them like a b0ss because I have promised myself that I will enslave my poor soul to work and money for the next 3 years. Because I have come to accept the cruel reality that I cannot earn a living just by being a wild artist and this is DESTINY and this is FATE and this is the oh-so-glorious life that is given to me and I will bear with it for as long as I can until I become a bear and another bear eats me up.

Cccccccciiiiiiiao

This Army Boy

2011-06-09T00:22:00.005+08:00

Dear Eric Sim Boiboi,

It's time to expose your big forehead to the forest birds and tree branches. To camouflage amongst the bushes. To load rifles, to throw grenades, to march and run and jump and kick and punch like you've never did before. Now you're really going to be ROLLING IN THE DEEP... mud. (His current favourite song)

By making the extra effort to photoshop the army cap onto your head with drop shadow, I hope you can sense my love for you. These are the little things I do for people I love. If you are some chao kang kong acquaintance whom I don't give a shit about, never in my life would I bother to photoshop an army cap onto your head. With drop shadow. It is not undying or unconditional love, but neither is it dying or conditional. Isn't that sweet?

I just want to let you know that you are one of the very very very few people in my life that I can communicate and share my innermost feelings with at the same level, and for that, I'm thankful beyond words. I could say that you make the world a better place to live in, but because of my morbidness, I would at least say, you make the world a less despairing place to live in.

I say this for the 4th time and I say it again - BE A MAN, DO THE RIGHT THANG.

And also, while you're busy making friends and buddies in army, please do not forget to look for any potential boyfriends for me... I am stuck in the office all day long and no romantic lover is going to magically appear in front of my iMac while I'm scrolling down the pantone colour book and adjusting my pen tool curves, so I'm pinning (some of) my hopes on you. I'll be waiting for your good news.

Take care.

The Mighty Aura

2011-06-05T15:21:00.006+08:00

Last night around 1am I began seeing weird wavy stuff at the bottom left corner of my eye. It follows my vision and blocks a certain part of my sight, like how it's like when... er, say, you have a blob of ketchup on the surface of your glasses. No matter how you turn, the ketchup spot is still there.

The wavy thing is shaped like an earthworm, or like a gigantic macaroni, or a horseshoe. It starts off transparent, like heat waves off the road, then colours will slowly come in while the waves expand in size, from an earthworm to a whole... pufferfish. Pufferfish buzzing with psychedelic zigzag waves in RGB colours.

A normal pizza,

Will turn out to look like this:

It scared the shit out of me, I thought I was going blind. You'd probably think I took drugs to see such crazy illusions - but no, all I had was a huge portion of bak kut teh, some green tea flavoured Häagen-Dazs ice cream, and some peach juice.

Worst part is that the waves pulsate, so it's like forcefully pushing you into a night club (with extra heavy bass) in your head which you cannot get out of.

It is not my first time experiencing this; I had my first encounter back when I was around 16, which I thought was just an after effect of playing too much DotA. I had it for about 3 or 4 times since then, but they were all mini earthworms (transparent ones, no crazy colours) which would go away once I take a nap. But yesterday's one was so bad, I started getting dizzy and nauseous, so I thought I could sleep it off - but I woke up 2 hours later with a skull-splitting migraine, and I puked until I have completely nothing left in my stomach. I tried to take some panadol pills and also down a glass of water, but I puked everything out again.

In agony I tried to google for the cause and cure of this by typing in "eyes see waves", and I found 2 entries from Yahoo! Answers, which mentioned something about "visual aura", "distorted vision", and migraines. So I searched for "visual aura" and found this on wikipedia:

I also tried to search for the cause of migraine, but this was all that wikipedia had to offer me:

-_-

Following that I found a hell load of illustrations of this bewildering symptom by the name of "AURA":

See, I wasn't exaggerating about the colours. This one even has a 4th colour

Apparently there are many different variations of it apart from the zigzag version.

And there are even videos of it:

(YES IT PULSATES LIKE THIS)

... Very interesting. But I NEVER EVER WANT TO EXPERIENCE IT AGAIN oh my gaAAD the migraine is a killer

BEEP. BEEP BEEP. BEEEEEEP

2011-06-04T03:25:00.004+08:00

One of the very few plus points about growing up: you don't need your mama/papa to drive you around anymore.

Suisui's sexy lips

Tired after continuously shouting BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP for no good reason. Because we wanted Yingying to honk for no good reason but she cannot honk for no good reason, so we resorted to doing it DIY style. I am wearing the John and Yoko cropped shirt that they got for my birthday gift this year. I really like it :>

B0ib0i Eric trying to get fat before he goes into army

Mag being hawt

This was Eric's 5th shot of us. Previous 4 was all blur. This one is the best one, of us giving up on his focusing skillz. I know it's hard to focus accurately in the dark but.............................. this is t00 muchz

This is Suimin's very avant garde shot of me hahahahaha

And this one's taken by Yingster

Omgad so tired. OL needs some good sleep, sayonara

Go owey leaf me alone

2011-05-30T21:48:00.012+08:00

D F#m
Everyone I come across, in cages they bought
D7 G/B
They think of me and my wandering, but I'm never what they thought
G D
I've got my indignation, but I'm pure in all my thoughts
A Asus2 A Asus2
I'm alive

I am what I am because I am not what I am not, because I am part of the society but the society is not part of me, because I am the descendent of a seamstress and a carpenter/soldier and a samsui woman and a half-qualified chef, because people's hearts can ridiculously turn from nougat to muachee overnight (and they demand you to turn into muachee with them), because I cannot take a family photo in the studio unless I wear a fucking square hat, because my life lies before me like overspilled mints on sweaty palms that everybody wants but doesn't want, because I am not a horse with pretty eyelashes and I cannot freely gallop over people who make my life miserable and gleefully run away after that.

法克欧偶夫油。

吃葡萄不吐葡萄皮

2011-05-28T21:19:00.005+08:00

Oh, and I did my first drawing since FYP at work on Thursday. Instant mood booster. I've been working purely on graphic layouts on the computer since I started work and... it's not that I hate digital work, but there's always something about traditional illustration that digital stuff can never replace. Getting ink stains on my shirt and charcoal smudged over my hands, makes me feel... more powerful. In a way.

It's coloured digitally though. I kinda hate dealing with colours when it comes to painting.

People in $42.80 Robes

2011-05-28T19:33:00.011+08:00

Guess what? I've officially graduated. They confiscated my student matric card. I am now a graduate. Not a graduand. Meh.

Mama. Mom. Ma. Ma. Mommy. Mom. Momma. Ma. Mom. Mummy. Mummy. Mom. Mom. Ma. HAHAHAHAHA

Facebook's auto face-detecting function thought my mom and my sister and me myself, are all the same person. Guess we look alike afterall - never thought I resembled my mom much. My sister inherited more from my mom.

I always love looking at people's parents. I think genetics is super intriguing - how my father's parents were both really short n00bcakes but gave birth to my father who is 178cm and uncle who's nearly 190cm. And how I got my single eyelids and crooked teeth (before braces) from nowhere - that is a mystery that will forever be unsolved.

Thus I am very happy and honoured to have taken the following 3 photos:

Notice how much Jiahui resembles her mom and how much Jolyn resembles her dad and how Susanna is like a completely new product. HAHAHHA. Usually I prefer those who are a completely new product because there's more to analyse. I hope my child will be a completely new product next time. Unless my husband is really handsome, then dear child, please go ahead and inherit everything from your hot dad.

苏珊娜

Chia

Oneyellowpolkadot

Eric: Wahrao, blur.
Me: But blur more chio. Next time find husband should find those with myopia. This is how I will look like to him at night when he removes his contacts/specs
Eric: HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH

Megadeath Bella. Bella is the name of Eric's new adopted dog (if you can remember) and the dog is really similar to Mag. Both in terms of personality and appearance. Here is ONE of the many proofs:

(sorry Mag we still love you)

Whose father is it smiling so cheekily behind us???

Yingster

Julia and her scarab necklace which I have been secretly jealous about all along. Hahahaha

Amanda, also affectionally known as Mandy since primary school days. HAHAHAHA we met when we're 9. It's been 11 years!

Eric and Sus. Eric's smile looks like The Joker's. I am not kidding

WAH CHAO NUGGET DAMN SCARY

Corny Connie. Hehe

Phoebe, my new colleague. She always has problem eating at Maxwell Food Centre cos the chairs are too high for her. HAAAHAHAHA I think she's wearing heels here.

Yingying gave us flowers :) :) :)

Chiabu. HAHAHAHAHA

That guy in the middle is Royce, who Ying (successfully) matchmade to Suimin. *clap clap clap BEEP BEEP blows party blower throws confetti* She has also matchmade another pair of her friends. Funny thing is, she is still unattached herself, so we all think in 20 years' time she is going to become those old spinster 媒婆 with a hairy mole on her chin HAHAHAHHAHAA

Muackz (sorry I think my captions today are very childish)

Muackz2

¿

Mag being a gangster. My mom thought her tattoo was real so when I came home and looked through the photos with her she was like "...why your friend so mafia?" I was like "Erm. It's a fake tattoo." and she was like "OH!!! I THOUGHT IT WAS REAL!!!" and I said "Ma, I don't think mafia bosses will tattoo pink unicorns. In the cutesy illustration style somemore. If they really liked unicorns they would at least do a fierce one with red eyes or something."

Clit shots: (inside joke)

Mag crumping in a robe.

This is it - happy finding an entry-level job with a mediocre pay and trying to fit into the working society. Bye.

White flowers smell the best

2011-05-28T03:30:00.015+08:00

They wanted to throw all the flowers away after the Magnum party event... what a waste. Saved some of these poor little things home. A whole bunch of calla lillies went into the dustbin though :( Not sure what flower are these (anybody knows?) but I love the way they look like a sweet and bashful girl-next-door who is secretly a hooker by night. Okay another bad analogy.

As much as I don't like girly stuff... I'm still a sucker for flowers.

Mm Hmm

2011-05-25T23:06:00.001+08:00

This Friday. Life officially goes downhill

Starplumber

2011-05-25T00:06:00.014+08:00

Sexy mada**$#*%

Sat down at Starbucks to read after work today, and overheard 3 conversations. Apparently the branch at Tanjong Pagar is a common place for the office people to meet up after work.

1. Between 2 guys, one asian and one caucasian

Asian: You want Korean? Or Japanese? Or Chinese?
Caucasian: I just want a girl who can wake me up.

2. Between 2 girls, one plump and one... plumber

Plumber: HEY!!!
Plump: HELLO!!! Wow you've shrank
Plumber: No la...
(catch-up talk)
Plumber: I want to be your size...
Plump: ME? I'm 64... or 65kg you know.
Plumber: I'm much heavier than that!
(more catching up)
Plump: Let's go eat Sushi Tei!

3. Between a guy and a girl

Guy: Heyyy
Girl: Hiii
*high fives*
Guy: Eh why your face so oily one.

I met my favourite busker outside Bedok MRT today and stopped to listen to 2 songs. When the crowd was gone and he was taking his usual interval break after every song, I walked over to him and requested for a song by The Beatles. So he played Let It Be. Just for me. I was his only audience standing in front of him and I was like :') :'( :'S em0gurrl_1_2_burst and I gave him some money and walked home like :') :'( :'S :') :'( :'S :') :'( :'S em0gurrlX3000

I'm building calluses from practising the baritone uke. It kind of hurts but I like how it hurts. In an endearing way not the I'm-gothic-and-I-love-to-slit-my-wrist way. Like how girls can't help but like badass guys... okay that was a bad analogy.

Can we please skip this

2011-05-23T01:46:00.010+08:00

19?
20?
78?

Goodbye, sweet adolescence. Hello, adult...ery.

Ningen Shikkaku

2011-05-21T15:53:00.004+08:00

After spending 30 minutes trying to figure out how to fix the timings and to combine the separated subtitle files into one... I watched Ningen Shikkaku (No Longer Human) in the comfort of my own room last night - curtains closed, lights off, and a blanket to snuggle in.

There wasn't any scene that was extremely tear-jerking in particular, because the whole show was monotonously nostalgic and disconsolate, so you might as well cry continuously for 2 hours and 13 minutes. But I still cried twice. At very un-tear-jerking parts. Maybe I cried because I watched it right after I read 30 pages of The Book of Disquiet so there was too much existentialism information going on in my mind and it was affecting how I perceive everything. But all in all, the cinematography was beautiful (featured a lot of Japanese natural landscapes) and so was the soundtrack, and I love how each part of the plot was narrated very swiftly, but clearly. And the ending was completely haunting. It scared me a bit when I was alone in the dark though. Very delicate but powerful film, another one to go into my all-time favourites list. But actually most of the movies I watch nowadays will go into my favourites list anyway, because I do my research and pick what I want to watch. Movies like Thor and erm... Fast & Furious... I won't even bother to watch, so naturally they won't go into my favourites list.

Brittle

2011-05-21T02:27:00.010+08:00

(Top: Supper. Bottom: Lunch.)

Mom: "What are you taking pictures of?"
Me: "Chicken bones."
Mom: "You shen jing bing is it?"

...

Ricotta Mozzarella

2011-05-19T22:34:00.017+08:00

Just wanna say... The Mediacorp scriptwriter needs to get over car accidents. Because even though I watch this mapo doufu 9pm drama only twice a week or so - somehow there are always car accidents being involved whenever I watch it, and I have successfully managed to predict the 2 recent car accidents:

1. Jianhai lost control when he saw Chawanmushi together with her ex-fiancé; thus decided to turn around and run at full speed, down the pavement, to release his agony. Like a man. But blind man. In the end he randomly ran across the road out of nowhere, only to get knocked down by a car, causing his entire left arm to be paralysed.

The moment he turned around and started running I was like "Oh man this guy is going to get knocked down by a car."

2. Chawanmushi being all devaLstated after Jianhai went missing, hung a whole lot of paper notes around a gigantic tree at East Coast Park, owning the tree all to herself. (Very kind of the National Parks Board) While she was weeping by the pond, Jianhai creepily and magically reappeared behind the gigantic tree to look endearingly at her from her back. Strong wind blows, paper notes fly. Flew off the tree, flew past Jianhai, flew onto the road. Chawanmushi got up, ran pass the tree, ran pass Jianhai, and ran towards the road to pick up the fallen paper notes - but for some incomprehensible reason, did not see Jianhai. You think, "Oh no this girl is going to get knocked down by a car"... but fret not. Because Jianhai is still creepily and magically standing near the tree and he will, creepily and magically run to the road just in time to

a) Push her away from the approaching car, sacrificing himself in her place and get knocked down a second time, or

b) Pull her away from the approaching car, both falling back onto the ground in an embracing position (might scratch elbows).

So it was option b. And yes, it was totally predictable.

Following the car accident Chawanmushi was like "JIANHAI!!!11123 WHY HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING FROM ME, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PAIN I'VE BEEN GOING THROUGH???" and then Jianhai was like "I AM NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU, I'M AFRAID I CAN'T MAKE YOU HAPPY!" and then Chawanmushi was like "WHY ARE YOU NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME? BECAUSE YOUR ARM IS MAIMED??? THEN I SHALL ALSO MAIM MY ARM...!" and immediately picked up a huge rock from the ground (that is nicely placed within a 0.5m radius from where she's standing), wanting to smash her own hand, which of course is stopped by Jianhai.

Chawanmushi: OH JIANHAI PROMISE ME YOU'LL NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN!
Jianhai: :')

Then in the next scene they were happily on a boat to Pulau Ubin. Wh0t?

Backtracking a bit... actually option a is quite stupid because the road has 2 lanes so if you push your lover away and sacrifice yourself, he or she might also get knocked down by another approaching car on the other lane. (Funny why that never happens in dramas despite the reasonable logic and high chances behind it) Then you will both die together. Like Romeo and Juliet.

Considering the fact that I am such a sucker for romantic stories, and that I actually found all these 'romantic' plot CHEESY... then it must be reaaaaally cheesy.

Another accident that Mediacorp scriptwriters need to get over is having someone roll down the stairs right after a quarrel. How come they always quarrel beside the staircase? And it's always the last scene in the episode. And then they will cut it at the non-staircase-roller's unglam and kena stun face before the credits start rolling, like

because they want you to be like "OMG OMG SHE JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS HOW HOW WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN IN TOMORROW'S EPISODE???!". But in reality the majority of the audience will probably be like "Walao.................. roll down stairs again."

And in the next episode the whole family will rush to the hospital and one of them will ask frantically, "医生医生，我的 (儿子/女儿/爸爸/妈妈/爷爷/奶奶/老公/老婆) (please delete accordingly) 怎么样？？？" and then the doctor will either

a) tell you that the patient's out of danger and is currently under observation in the ward, or

b) shake his head in silence and walk away like a boss (which will then proceed to the next scene where someone faints).

Oh drama shows.