Simmer the stew on low.

Simmer the stew on low.
feeling: puzzled
music: damien rice - cannonball

smiles
laughs
the irrepressible faint blush

comfort
tête-à-têtes
where is the bloodrush?

the pounding
the wanting
the intuitive grasp of right

the absence
the friendship
seen in a different light

maybe not tonight.

I still can't say no to a meme.

I still can't say no to a meme.
feeling: restless

Because Charlene asked me to!

Tag 5 people to do this quiz: Ceci, Nanny Lays, Jane, Jem, Jared

List of ten people:

1. Ceci
2. Charlene
3. Flora
4. Jinli
5. Daphne
6. Fagan
7. Jem
8. Mich Bitch
9. Jane
10. Cheryl

Who is number 6 having a relationship with? (Fagan)
No one yet, what about fireworks girl dude???

Number 9 is a? (Jane)
A laughing goose, heh. And one of my buds.

If number 7 and number 10 are together, is it a good thing? (Jem and Cheryl)
Eh, Jem's too much of a caveman... and I don't think he'd like Cheryl's duck very much!

How about number 8 and number 5? (Daphne and Bitch)
They're both strrrrrrraaaiiiiggghhhhhhtttt.

What is number 2 studying about? (Charlene)
Communication, but she doesn't study. She eats up her books. HAHA.

Last time you had a chat with number 3? (Flora)
Friday, over lunch!

What music band does number 8 like? (Mich)
Classical piano, sheesh woman.

Does number 1 have any siblings? (Ceci)
Nope, but I can be your sister dear! Heh.

Will I woo number 3? (Flora)
Eh, no? Hahaha. I like men.

How about number 7? (Jem)
I'll woo the caveman with a club and a hunting spear, ha ha ha.

Is number 4 single? (Jinli)
Yea, only alcoholics need apply though! Haha.

Surname of number 5? (Daphne)
Chui.

Name of number 10? (Cheryl)
Cheryl Quek Quack Quack.

An obsession of number 2. (Charlene)
Biting people. "Can I bite you?"

Does number 5 and number 9 get along very well? (Daphne and Jane)
They haven't met but I imagine they would!

Where is number 2 studying at? (Charlene)
NTUWKWSCI.

Say something about number 1. (Ceci)
She's my favourite yoga/chick flick/Cedele buddy. That's 3!

Have I tried developing feelings for number 8? (Mich Bitch)
Yeah, feelings of hatred for my bitchy bestie.

Where does number 9 live? (Jane)
Bedok, but right now? Perth.

Who's number 4's idol? (Jinli)
Me!

Are number 5 and number 1 best friends? (Daphne and Ceci)
They haven't met...

Does number 7 like number 2? (Jem and Charlene)
They haven't met, but I think Jem likes cute tiny girls like Charlene. Cavemen la... hahaha.

How did I get to know number 2? (Charlene)
Through school! Poor me.

Does number 1 have any pets? (Ceci)
3 cats - Baby, Porridge and Sunrise, and an imaginary husky.

Is number 7 the sexiest person on earth? (Jem)
Cavemen are hot. HAHA. Especially with a bird's nest atop their heads eh, Jem?

It's that time of the week...

It's that time of the week...

When I experience the bittersweet joy of starting the school week on a Tuesday, inevitably thinking back on the weekend, and wondering how time has flown by me yet again.

And feeling slightly shocked at how much and yet how little I have accomplished.

Let's see.

I had a much needed catch-up with Flora over lunch when the rain thwarted our plans to hit the pool, and we were once again amazed at how much we had in common, 'cept that I experienced most of the things she is going through right now a year ago. It's kinda uncanny for I always thought of us having different values and moral beliefs, but perhaps humans in general are fundamentally identical?

Then it was movie night with my dearest Oh-Cynical-One. I am crossing my fingers that the chick flick we caught worked some of its magic to erase her worrying jadedness. License to Wed redeemed itself from the abyss of chick flick cliches with its witty lines, and had us snorting several unwomanly guffaws that mortifyingly reverberated through the cinema.

Next up was the morning beach run - my second practice session with Lanxi, who has turned amazingly fair over her two-week Europe break. And check out the running gear we were decked out in - we didn't plan it I swear. Even our sports bras were of the same colour, haha!



The wardrobe synergy trailed along on our run, though it was more of a bad than good thing. It could be the sweltering heat, the lack of sleep or maybe an insane loss of stamina, but we were both pretty knackered half-time into the run. We sucked it up and finished it, but it wasn't one of our better runs definitely. We must do better this week babe. It's our last before the actual thing!

Checked out Timbre with Shaun J., and I am really pretty impressed with the Goodfellas. So it wasn't quite the mellow music I was hoping (I had my fingers crossed that EIC would be playing), but the band, especially the hippie bassist leader, was super engaging. The crowd lapped it all up, and there were more than several intoxicated Caucasians dancing, with a poster that said "Get Up and Dance" to boot. Times like these I wish we didn't have such Asian inhibitions, but well, it just ain't in our blood eh?

I taught my first piano lesson this weekend as well, to two sisters who caught on pretty well for beginners. And of course, there was the impromptu margarita and nachos session with my dearest AA friend, where we tickled and befriended a very bemused waitress at Cafe Iguana with our warped sense of humor.

Granted how I had to catch up on deprived sleep and work on easing the semester's workload in between engagements, I am pooped. But happily so. Time to dig into the readings with gusto... urgh.

I still believe in magic.

I still believe in magic.
music: john mayer - in repair

Expectancy is expected to evolve over time, but as with chance, it is a song out of rhyme.

Through all the thrills and spills, the things you wish away often stay. A double take or even a lingering gaze, pale against the easy warmth of two soulmates.

I find it ironic how the best way to heal a broken heart is to open it to the risk of pain, even more so that through ceasing, a whole remains.

Unconditional.

Unconditional.
feeling: blessed

Despite the sore throat and the nuisance of a germy swollen eye, I have no complaints about my week so far. The recent turn of events has made me realise just how fortunate I am to have the people around me - the surprising support, the concern, and the occasional chocolate fix.

Jinli for Tuesday-chocs-to-chase-the-blues, for waiting just so I could cut into the crazily long 179 queue, for lugging a bottle of sore throat mixture to school with a plastic spoon to boot, and for tolerating my 101 inane comments/questions/wardrobe dilemmas.

Ceci for being immensely supportive of my new direction and genuinely happy for me, an excellent yoga buddy cum chick flick mate, and for her untiring answers to my wardrobe dilemmas.

Daphne for enthusing me about that new direction, cupcake recipes (even if it is because she wants to eat them!), weird conversations involving Oreo and Snuffles/Racky, and untiring answers to my wardrobe dilemmas.

-I'm sensing a pattern here-

Charlene for wanting to skip lunch to accompany me to the clicnic, and for eating so many of my cookies! Heh heh.

HM for accompanying me at the clinic, the chocolates, delaying his squash game while I had lunch, and gallantly applying ointment onto my eyeball.

And many more for the laughs and smiles.

Pounding pavements in chilly air.

Pounding pavements in chilly air.
feeling: wide awake at midnight
music: janet seidel - c'est si bon (it's so good)

My runs have been a little lacklustre lately, and it's hard to want to get up and out after a couple of successive uninspiring sessions. It could be the bite in the air, or John Mayer singing into my ears, or the fact that my body's just not cut out for morning runs, but I had one of my better runs this evening. Ahhh.

It's been quite a weekend - a birthday, a gathering, and yet another birthday. I almost always get my knickers in a twist when it feels like I'm not gonna have any time to myself, but I found time to have breakfast with my aunt at the cafe outside on a rainy Saturday morning, as well as to spend a bit of a time in the library reading up on yoga, ayurveda and DIY painting books. I've yet to get around to even choosing the colors for the walls. Nor to scour furniture shops for a new desk, bookcase and tv chest.

Those can wait. I've got plans to chase the blues by baking up a storm tomorrow. And I'm able to do so 'cos I've managed to switch newswriting tutorials to Wednesdays. So tomorrow'll be just a semi-killer Tuesday. 8:30 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. straight. I survived last week, so tomorrow should be easy peasy!

Off to bed, not that sleep's gonna come easy after how I concussed earlier in the afternoon, or how hard I laughed when my aunt tried to teach me how to roll my tongue for Malay. But I'll try.

Happy 21st, my dearest bitch.

Happy 21st, my dearest bitch.
music: kings of convenience - i'd rather dance with you

With her "Spice Girls".





The Hooters party gang.

My best friend has turned 21. I feel like a proud mama, haha.

Was it meditation or hypnosis?

Was it meditation or hypnosis?
feeling: refreshed
music: john mayer - dreaming with a broken heart

Thanks to Erwin, I finally have the full John Mayer's Continuum album playing on my iTunes.

My ability to fall straight asleep has eluded me these couple of weeks. There was my very annoying yo-yo decision making mechanism when it came to adding and dropping subjects, the tedious process of drafting GIP and INSTEP applications, and the endless surfing of university websites. I think I've become a bit of a control freak when it comes to the use of my free time, and this kinda explains my need to know my schedule in advance, and my absolute inflexibilty to last-minute changes. That ain't too good I know, but I don't quite know what to do about it.

I was really looking forward to a good stretch after the past tedious days and that very day's disappointing driving lesson, but Wednesday's yoga session left me feeling more frazzled than calm. The instructor was 20 minutes late, then proceeded to lead us in an hour of hurried poses that had the class bursting into peals of frustrated laughter. We're no gymnasts, and that was no hatha yoga. His heart wasn't in it, and that ruined the session from the start.

What was weird was the meditation session after yoga. After a couple of deep breaths in lotus pose, we were asked to expel our breaths forcefully for 30 times. I googled it, and I think it's called Kapalabhati. 3 rounds of that left me a little lightheaded, and we were then asked to lie on our mats and relax. The instructor/guru then started bringing us back in time. "You are 20 years old, trying to achieve balance in your professional and personal life... you are 15.... you are 10..."

I thought I nodded off a couple of times, and that I dreamt about the things that had been keeping me awake the past week - exchange choices, practicum choices and all. In the last "dream", I was in the driver's seat like I had been earlier that afternoon, when a car cut in front of me without warning. Adrenaline rushed through me and I jerked, both in the carseat as well as mentally. And poof, my mind was clear.

I told my auntie about it later that night, and she asked if he hypnotised us. I'm not sure now...

Speaking of dreams, I finally succumbed to replenish my deprived rest this afternoon. And guess what I dreamt of during my four-hour nap, if you can even call it a nap? That Lifehouse was having an announced 5-song set just beneath my block, right on the middle of the road. And I scrambled to dress and hurried down, only to share a lift with Jason Wade and his bemused drummer, who looks oddly like Yoji from Miami Ink. Haha!

Kids, please don't try this at home.

Kids, please don't try this at home.
feeling: knackered
music: acid house kings - sunday morning

Today marked the first of my many 10 hour non-stop Tuesdays. 4 hours in the Maclab for Publication Design, an hour and 45 minutes zonking/laughing in Visual Comm lecture with 15 minutes to pee/gobble sandwich/run to South Spine for my 1.5 hour Malay elective, and 3 minutes to run like mad to Hedwig's Newswriting.

While it felt good to rush with a purpose, I am almost sure I started having double vision towards the end of the day. Pffff.

Malay tutorial was interesting though. Our tutor was talking about the complexities of the English language, and the discrepancies between the spelling and pronounciation of words. These were his examples:

T: "Why is laugh spelled as l-a-u-g-h and pronounced as 'laff'?"
T: "So if 'gh' is pronounced as 'ff', why is ghetto not pronounced as 'ffeto'?"

And here's the kicker.

T: "K-n-o-c-k. How do you pronounce that? 'Nock'. Why don't you go around 'kenock kenock'?"

LOL.

Of the heartlands, for the heartlands.

Of the heartlands, for the heartlands.


picture from www.royston-tan.blogspot.com

Arriving a mere three minutes late had us scrambling around in the dark, in a theatre which shockingly did not have lighted alphabets and seat numbers. I caught sight of a "K", and thankfully knew my alphabets well enough to not have to stand in the aisles reciting it to figure out which was row "I".

I detest having to squeeze past the seated audience to get to my seat. I'm always faced with the dilemma of sticking my bum or my crotch in their faces, and I usually make a split second decision to go with the former. At least I can make a conscious effort to keep my bum out of their faces. If I were to enter the other way round, I might just hit the unlucky people in row 'J' at the back of their heads with my bum. Bum sweep.

I once mused on my flight to Bali: "If clothes maketh the man, then do the passengers on the plane define the destination?"

In this case, the audience seemed to define the getai scene that 881 was about. It wasn't so much of the younger cinema-going crowd I saw today, but instead people from the heartlands. And it was such a different experience to be sitting amongst them and watching a film that embodied the soul of the heartlands.

No pretentious angmoh slang-ers or giggly international school students, typical of romantic comedies; or the stuffy corporate types I see in Cinema Europa. It felt truly... Singaporean, complete with an ah beng who had a three-minute conversation on his handphone in the middle of the show. We gave him 45 seconds to answer his ringing phone and to inform the caller that he was in his cinema, but when he showed no signs of hanging up, "shhhhhh"s sprung up from all around the cinema. And still, Mr. Talkative yakked on, until a lady exclaimed, "Keep quiet!"

The film was awesome, and I could identify some of the framing techniques Shawn How mentioned during 108. I'm definitely a rookie when it comes to cinematography and what-nots, but this lack of technical know-hows doesn't make me any less appreciative of the film. In our world of Hollywood imports, this was close to home and all the more so heartwarming.

And watching it from amongst today's audience really added to the Singaporean charm. Yes, even Mr. Talkative.

clean the cotton wool from my eyes.

clean the cotton wool from my eyes.
copyright © leigh khoo

what fuels this inertia
of unchanging tides
a dismaying rest of laurels
long lost in waves of time

what spurs this vexation
a restlessness within
growing steadily stifling
roused from disillusioned sleep

the unceasing battle
between the angel and his foe
is it a clash of good and bad
or self-inflicted sorrow?

shake me from this hollow
chase the cobwebs from my brain
jolt me from the humdrum
and turn twisting roads straight

Guess who's back?

Guess who's back?
feeling: happier

My favourite person's back in town. At least something good happened this week. :)

The post-vacation inertia's hanging over me like a dark cloud. The flexibility that comes with being in Year 2 comes with a lot of choices, which isn't bad unless you're fickle-minded like me. Have I ever mentioned about how my tendency to bum worries me?

And once again I'm jaded by the thing I escaped to from previous jadedness.

I think I need a kick in the butt. (No Jinli, not from you again. Hahaha.)

The power in peace.

The power in peace.
feeling: sore


picture from http://www.flickr.com/photos/heavytrick/275016160/

I attended my first ashtanga yoga lesson today at Whatever Yoga Studio, and boy was it good. Thankfully Ceci and I weren't the only newbies in the 7-person class, but I think we're gonna start with Sunil's class on Wednesday to build up our foundation. I was floundering once the first set of downward facing dog and warrior poses were over, but it was still a blast. Finally, I've found a yoga match that doesn't put me to sleep.

My mind keeps going back to the last 15 minutes of the practice, where we were told to lay still on our mats. In the quiet of the darkened shophouse, my senses were awakened and particularly aware. A whiff of lavender. The occasional car driving by outside. The smell of pine from the floors.

My auntie was pretty glad when I told her I was joining Whatever for classes. "Maybe slowly you'll become a vegetarian," she said. Eh, Ceci and I headed for nasi padang after class (so not in line with the wholesome lifestyle I know), so it might take a while before I join my family hippies.

Beyond cartoons.

Beyond cartoons.

Last semester, a lecturer talked about Disney's stereotypes of women, how they were sexualised, and how most of Disney's princesses were white-skinned. Those weren't her exact words of course, but the gist was about Disney's portrayal of how women were supposed to be (i.e. subservient to males). I remember reading through that module's readings while cramming for the exams, and vaguely thinking how true it was.

Just recently however, I caught Pocahontas and Mulan on cable, and that had me rethinking my stand. A search on the Internet turned up plenty of articles which supported that lecturer's stand, and also some that challenged it.

I personally thought both Pocahontas and Mulan defied above-mentioned stereotypes. I can't remember much about Pocahontas as I saw it quite a while ago, but Mulan was about a woman joining the army as a man on her father's behalf, breaking the mould of women being second-class, and she was definitely not sexualised in any way in the cartoon.

Then of course there are people who feel that Disney is boycotting traditional values...

And I must mention my 6-year old cousin telling me she had to go on a diet so she could be as pretty as Gabriella in High School Musical.

So is Disney good or bad influence? I don't have a stand, and I think it'll require a hell lot of research and thinking to make one. And I'd rather watch Mulan 100 times over than willingly do that, heh. I was in fact so intrigued by the cartoon I googled to see if Mulan really existed. No confirmation there, but I did find Ode to Mulan. And I'll leave you with that.

木蘭辭 Ode to Mulan

唧唧復唧唧 木蘭當戶織 不聞機杼聲 唯聞女嘆息	Ji-ji, again ji-ji, Mulan faces the door, weaving. You can't hear the sound of the loom's shuttle, You only hear Daughter's sighs.
問女何所思 問女何所憶 女亦無所思 女亦無所憶	They ask Daughter who's in her thought, They ask Daughter who's on her memory. "No one is on Daughter's thought, No one is on Daughter's memory.
昨夜見軍帖 可汗大點兵 軍書十二卷 卷卷有爺名	Last night I saw the arny notices, The Khan is calling for a great force. The army register is in twelve scrolls, and every scrolls has Father's name.
阿爺無大兒 木蘭無長兄 愿為市鞍馬 從此替爺征	Father has no adult son, Mulan has no older brother. Wish to buy a saddle and horse, and serve in Father's place."
東市買駿馬 西市買鞍韉 南市買轡頭 北市買長鞭	In the East Market she buys a steed, In the West Market she buys a saddle and saddle blanket, In the South Market she buys a bridle, In the North Market she buys a long whip.
朝辭爺娘去 暮宿黃河邊 不聞爺娘喚女聲 但聞黃河流水鳴濺濺	At dawn she bids farewell to Father and Mother, In the evening she camps on the bank of the Yellow River. She doesn't hear the sound of Father and Mother calling for Daughter, She only hears the Yellow River's flowing water cry jian-jian.
旦辭黃河去 暮至黑山頭 不聞爺娘喚女聲 但聞燕山胡騎聲啾啾	At dawn she bids farewell to the Yellow River, In the evening she arrives at the summit of Black Mountain. She doesn't hear the sound of Father and Mother calling for Daughter, She only hears Mount Yan's nomad horses cry jiu-jiu.
萬里赴戎機 關山度若飛 朔氣傳金柝 寒光照鐵衣	She goes ten thousand miles in the war machine, She crosses mountain passes as if flying. Northern gusts carry sound of army rattles, Cold light shines on iron armor.
將軍百戰死 壯士十年歸 歸來見天子 天子坐明堂	Generals die in a hundred battles, Strong warriors return after ten years. On her return she sees the Son of Heaven, The Son of Heaven sits in the ceremonial hall.
策勛十二轉 賞賜百千強 可汗問所欲 “木蘭不用尚書郎 愿借明駝千里足 送兒還故鄉”	Merits are recorded in twelve ranks And grants a hundred thousand strong. The Khan asks her what she desires. "Mulan has no use for a high official's post. I wish to borrow a ten-thousand mile camel To take me back home."
爺娘聞女來 出郭相扶將 阿姊聞妹來 當戶理紅妝	Father and Mother hear Daughter is coming They go outside the city wall, supporting each other. When Older Sister hears Younger Sister is coming Facing the door, she puts on rouge, .
小弟聞姊來 磨刀霍霍向豬羊 "開我東閣門 坐我西閣床	When Little Brother hears Older Sister is coming He sharpens the knife, quick, quick, for pig and sheep. "I open the door to my east room, I sit on my bed in the west room,
脫我戰時袍 著我舊時裳." 當窗理云鬢 對鏡貼花黃	I take off my wartime gown And put on my old-time clothes." Facing the window she fixes the cloudlike hair on her temples, Facing a mirror she dabs on yellow flower powder
出門看火伴 火伴皆驚惶 同行十二年 不知木蘭是女郎	She goes out the door and sees her comrades. Her comrades are all shocked. Traveling together for twelve years They didn't know Mulan was a girl.
“雄兔腳扑朔 雌兔眼迷離 兩兔傍地， 安能辨我是雄雌?”	"The male rabbit's feet kick up and down, The female rabbit's eyes are bewildered. Two rabbits running close to the ground, How can they tell if I am male or female?"

Face it, we're animals.

Face it, we're animals.

Had a conversation with J, who was wondering why people were bothered with dressing up. I said it was for self-esteem, but the discovery channel fan (I didn't know he watched that) has this to say.

J: It's the human instinct to exhibit healthy genes to attract the opposite sex. You don't know, 'cos you do it subconsciously. It's in all of us.

I'm sold.

Me: Perhaps. The primal mating nature of humans, disguised but unchanged by time.

There's something undeniably sexy about such intrinsic primitivism. Raw. And no, I didn't mean to type 'roar'.

Some junk dispel funk.

Some junk dispel funk.



Look what I found whilst I cleared out my wardrobe for tomorrow's renovation. Meet Snuffles the elephant, along with a million other primary and secondary school memories.

I'd been living in the past four years of late, and it was rather refreshing to be propelled even further back in time.

I hate to say it hasn't helped me yet.

I hate to say it hasn't helped me yet.
feeling: blue

"I gave up coffee and cigarettes
I hate to say it hasn't helped me yet
I thought my problems would just dissapate
And all my pain would be in yesterday

I poured my booze all down the kitchen drain
And watched my bad habits get flushed away
I thought that that would keep my head on straight
And all my pain would be in yesterday

But it's true, I'm still blue
But I finally know what to do
I must quit, I must quit...You"

- Michelle Featherstone - Coffee and Cigarettes

I don't know why I do half the things I do. My optimism is on hiatus, and until I can channel Little Miss Sunshine again, the moody monster's here to stay.

Never thought I'd say this, but I'm ready to start school. To be carried on the wave of projects, deadlines and quizzes, and be all tired out and ready for my next adventure.

Speaking of waves, I figured the Blue Crush vcd I owned was never gonna come around back to me, and bought another just the other day. I sat down with it today, and boy was I inspired to learn to surf. I even went as far to check out the surf schools in Bali, but the time's not right, especially if I get to go on exchange next year. *Fag, how were your surfing lessons then?

Shopping around to replace my current pair of Asics has thrust me into the world of foot-speak lingo. Low arch, overpronation... the latter's apparently the main culprit for the pain in my inner arches whenever I exceed 4k. I'm no running expert, but I'm strapping my new ugly (got berated by the shopkeeper for wanting style over function) shoes for a test run tomorrow. Let's see if the money blown was worth it.

Bedtime laughs.

Bedtime laughs.
feeling: amused
music: michelle featherstone - coffee and cigarettes

At 1:29 a.m.

Penkey: Babe, should I eat kokocrunch?
Me: Eat lor, why?
Penkey: I'm trying to figure out am i just greedy or hungry

At 1:45 a.m.

Me: -inserts link- He's dead, but he's the one who sang Hawaiian Suppa'man.
Penkey: Is he the guy on the album?
Me: Ya, he's morbidly obese. Died of weight-related respiratory illness at 38.
Penkey: Poor thing.
Penkey: Okay, the more I shouldn't eat my kokocrunch.

LOL.