I would rather...

I would rather...

go for a swim


have tea with friends at Foster's


and spend an afternoon being silly


be on holiday


at a beach resort


laze in bed all morning


go to the beach


play in the sea


and walk along the shore


see the foreign sun set


ponder travel thoughts


then enjoy the tropical dusk

Anything will do, really, except



this.

Forty winks.

Forty winks.
feeling: impatient

Ever since the painters removed the portruding nail I hung my clock on, I've awoken disoriented on many mornings, staring at the blank turquoise wall. The clock's now propped up on the tv, semi-hidden by the screen.

Is was almost eleven by the time I rolled awake. The first thought that came to mind was that it was a gorgeous Saturday morning. And then I realised that it was Tuesday, and that lecture ended a half hour ago. Haha! It was no lazy boo boo though. I'd long decided to give myself the day off from school.

This week's getting an infamous rep. Two quizzes and a million deadlines. I can only wonder where I found the time for nine hours of sleep and a dinner out with the family tonight. And I'm heading over to CH's in a couple of minutes for a swim with Ken. I'm incorrigible, I know.

Haha!

The invisible driving force.

The invisible driving force.
feeling: mental saturation
music: kami lyle - lover man

Some are lucky enough to be born knowing it, but many spend their lives in a desperate search. They cling onto an inkling, only to make mistakes. Some give up the fight, choosing to dwell in a self-dug rut.

Me? I came home, sat down with my laptop, and worked right through the sunset. That invisible force holds me captive, and I crave the realm where time ceases to exist. I'm holding on to this inkling, crossing my fingers it would be more than just a temporary fixation.

Jasmine related the story of the old man at Chinatown with her usual story-telling gusto. Still, I momentarily speechless when she told of how she wrote a letter, got it vetted in the wee hours of the morning, and proceeded to send it out to the various authorities. I was humbled by the passion and compassion she had in her, and I honestly don't know if I would have gone to such lengths if I were in her shoes. Good on you, babe!

The Hospitality & Tourism Management Interest Group
Farewell Potluck

President Khoo


Theme: Food of Singapore


Telling me which way to run to.


HTMIG 05/06


Bon voyage, babe.

Pleasure trip for the arty farts.

Pleasure trip for the arty farts.
music: norah jones - little room

Together with Ceci, who's fortunately always up for a bit of local sightseeing, I headed down to Haji Lane to check out PITCH BLACK for my article. I'd heard many a rave about the kooky boutiques at Haji, but I've always assumed the outskirts to be all there was to the isolated cranny. I was so, so, wrong, and I'm definitely gonna check back there one day, when I'm less strapped for time. Chanced upon this beads and knick knacks shop, and I picked up a poster for my dance-fanatic roomate. Unfortunately, I lost it somewhere along my messy day. I'm pretty cheesed off. It would have lifted her Monday blues.

I wonder who placed the chairs there.

PITCH BLACK ranks pretty high on my must-visit-ometer right now. It is, simply put, a movie cafe, and after churning out two 600-word articles, describing the intricacies of the place is the last thing I wanna do right now. They're screening Before Sunrise and Before Sunset tomorrow, and I want to go rather badly. Unfortunately, I've done way too little over the past few days for me to be able to afford this tiny luxury. Ah well, there's always next time.

Brought Ceci over to Liang Seah for Ah Chew's Desserts, before cabbing down to The Arts House for a last minute coverage of another cafe. I don't quite have nice things to say about the place, and I almost sucked the life out of myself attempting to write a neutral write-up void of biased emotions, so I won't even go there.

We had a couple of hours left before Ceci was due to meet her mom, so we hopped on the annoyingly jerky bus to Queensway, where I was supposed to hunt for my elusive swimsuit. Instead, I spent a tiny fortune on all the gear that rationale had, for far too long, convinced me was a waste of money. I'd intended to test them out tomorrow morning before the potluck lunch with the IG gang, but seeing that it is almost 3 a.m., I guess I'd better leave the running till later in the night.

Zipped over to Ikea as well to check out chairs, desks, bookshelfs, tv tables and blinds. I think I've got a rough idea of what to get, and I'll probably go by the week after next if time permits. Decorating, I tell you, is incredibly exciting.

Shoutout: Thank you dear babe for accompanying me on today's messy trip! :)

The weekend's almost over, and I feel like I've barely gotten a headstart on the things I have to do to get me through the coming week alive. Need sleep. Now.

Red walls and a stripy dress.

Red walls and a stripy dress.
feeling: lazy
music: norah jones - my dear country

Hoping to get an early start on my article, I went by Cozy Canopy after class, only to find that it had closed down. I already had my suspicions when my email and repeated phonecalls went unanswered, but I was still a little gutted that the place that had inspired Square Room was now a soulless vacancy.

It was a gorgeous afternoon and seeing how I had some spare time on my hands, I took myself on a quick jaunt around Cityhall. Popped by Gramaphone and emerged, after an obscene amount of time, with Norah Jone's latest album (finally!) and the Sideways vcd. I thought it'd be interesting to see Sandra Oh play another character, instead of Dr. Cristina Yang on Grey's.

Any less self-control and I would have emptied my wallet by getting the following:

1. The Peter Malick Group's New York City album featuring Norah Jones
   
2. Tori Amos' Scarlet Walk album
3. A Lot Like Love
   
4. Blue Hawaii (the one with Elvis Presley)

Someone behind said hello to me as I was walking towards a bakery. It was an oldish Australian tourist who thought I was a fellow traveller, and though I was a little rattled by his sudden approach, I chatted with him for abit until I reached the entrace of the bakery.
Me: "I'm going inside."
Him: "Oh is it?"
Me: "Yep. Bye."

Thinking back, I may have been a little too abrupt. I never did ask for his name, and I can't remember if I said "have a nice day"! Thank goodness I smiled. He didn't seem like a crook, and it was bright daylight along the main road. The poor man was probably lonely and looking for company, of the non-sleazy sort. It wouldn't have cost me anything, except a bit more time, to pause and ask him about his day and to recommend some sights would it? I'd be rather disappointed if I were a tourist and one of the locals I chatted up left as abruptly as I did. I could definitely do with being less guarded in the future. Ecks, I feel bad.

Ireland through black and white lens.

Ireland through black and white lens.
feeling: dreamy
music: damien rice - cannonball

I never thought Damien Rice to be particularly good looking, despite his appealing tousled vibe. Changed my mind watching this video of Cannonball however. The absence of the trademark moustache has revealed a well, rather dishy singer-songwriter.

I am all for scruffy, but there are times when scruff just doesn't cut it.

Watch the vid, even if you're not interested in checking him out. It is a way better and more heartfelt version than the official mtv.

P.s. Anybody knows if the Hindu goddess of love or passion or lust dresses in orange? I had the WEIRDEST and honestly, a rather freaky, dream during my afternoon nap.

Knackered from the high.

Knackered from the high.
feeling: sleepy
music: tori amos - a sorta fairytale

I remembered my ice cold fingers, the apprehension at accelerating, the rush of adrenaline at 3 a.m. and the incessant pounding of my heart. It was this memory of almost (I may have, but I can't quite remember) driving Erwin's car onto the curb that accompanied me to my first driving lesson today.

I'd expected klutziness, fumbling, and panic-induced screaming that would drive my instructor into seizures; or at least something akin to fear. What I never quite expected was the calming sense of control that took over me as I navigated the car. When we took a pause after driving three rounds around the area, I found that I was, surprisingly, raring to go again. And my instructor informed me that I was actually driving at 50km/hr! Nothing at all like my dreadful virgin drive!

This first session left me on one heck of a high, and I had a tiny smile plastered on my face for a good fifteen minutes after it ended. Me, on wheels. Never thought I'd love it the way I did!

My handphone rang as I was making my way home from the pool, and balancing my Crumpler, lunch for my aunt, and a bag of groceries, I answered to hear Eric from SPH on the line.

E: Is this Ms. Khoo?
M: Yes, who's this?
E: Hi, this is Eric from SPH. I'm calling regarding the writing test you sat for last week. Congratulations, you have been selected for our internship program. When will you be available to come down for the interview?
M: Is next Thursday okay?
E: Mmm. Can you come down on 29th February?
M: What day is it?
E: Thursday.
M: Okay, what time?
E: 1pm.
M: Sure, so who should I look for when I get there?
E: Jocelyn.
M: Is it Jocelyn or Joyce Lim?
E: Ms. Jocelyn Lim.
M: Okay, which floor do I go to?
E: 5th floor, turn right from the elevator. (Coincidentally, it IS the HR office.)
M: Right. Do I have to bring anything?
E: Yes, please bring your portfolio. I understand that you did an internship at another magazine as well so can you please bring it along to show us your works?
M: Sure. Anything else?
E: Yes, please bring your camera?
M: Camera? (I was wondering how the guy knew I had a camera, then I remembered that I'd listed photography as one of my interests in the application form.)
E: Yes. We are having launching a new program and we will be sending our editors to spas overseas, so we will need to judge your photos to see if you are suitable to be attached to the photojournalism department.
M: Oh, but I applied for an internship with Shape.
E: Yes, this is a new feature under Shape.
M: So do I get to write?
E: Yes, you get to write AND take pictures. (I was silently whooping, and half-amazed at how similar it was to CS's travel writing practicum.)
M: Okay, see you then!
E: Eh, do you happen to have a calendar with you?
M: No, I'm outside. What is the matter?
E: Then it's okay.
M: Okay, so I'll see you then.
E: Eh, one last thing. Can you please bring your Mashimaro pajamas?
M: HUH?!?!?!

Eric turned out to be Jason playing one of his practical jokes. To think I was flustered and silly enough to not realise that 2007's not a leap year! 29th February?! Arghs. Haha. I was doubled over with laughter at my void deck.

Alright, the high's worn over though, and I'm ready to succumb to my sun warmed sheets.

Sueños.

Sueños.

A late night youtube surf found me Mig Ayesa's Baby I Love Your Way mtv. It's a more mellow cover of Peter Frampton's original, dedicated to his wife. Click here.

Click here to view his life rendition on Rockstar INXS.

I've got a massive bag of prep work to do over the weekend, in view of "next week from hell".

I'll have to snap and settle the pictures for 103; zip down to the two movie cafes and churn out an article; revise for Monday's Spanish class; prepare my speech for 106 (which honestly I am rather looking forward to); start doing my readings for 103 and 105; and cook up a dish for Sunday's potluck lunch. And I still intend to go hunting for my swimsuit, and possibly have tea at Foster's.

Coming week.

Mon - Chron article deadline
Tues - 104 deadline
Wed - 103 quiz, 103 photo assignment presentation, FOC meeting
Fri - 105 quiz, 106 speech
Sun - Carwash

My first official lesson behind the wheel starts bright and early at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow. Time for a light dose of chick lit before hitting the sack. I hope I don't puncture any tyres on my first day.

The days of 2:30 p.m. tv.

The days of 2:30 p.m. tv.

Do you remember? Coming home from Primary school and plonking down with lunch in front of the tv to watch those channel 8 drama re-runs.

Colored crayons, penmanship worksheets, and Mrs. Lim Su Chan.

Twisted knickers and broken hearts.

Twisted knickers and broken hearts.
feeling: cheerful
music: lecturer's drone on media planning

The smell of clean laundry drying in the corridors, and an intangible musky, but not unpleasant, smell. I've never been all ra-ra about hall life, and I haven't been around that much, choosing to go home for emotional refuge. Yet yesterday, in the span of one night, I was reminded of the pleasant familiarities. Coming 'home' to a hysterical catch-up with the room-mate, going out for a sunset jog with Silver, stopping to chat with the neighbours, friends dropping by with supper invitations and to offer snacks, and the noisy greetings and horsing about along the hallways.

And despite wanting to get my full eight hours of shut-eye, I stayed way past the 11 p.m. bedtime I'd self-imposed, chatting with an unintended confidante about dilemmas, twisted knickers, and broken hearts. Long drawn out doubts reached semi-clarity, but that was nothing my rationale could not have already concluded. It's annoying, how women oddly fancy being bastardised. Equally annoying is how humans never quite want what is right beneath our upturned noses.

Unnecessary dilemmas aside, I am inspired to train and run a, well, run. The lecture theatre's firewall has blocked the Singapore Sports Council site, so I can't quite find any as of now. Tag me, if anybody has an upcoming event to recommend.

Why do I even bother waking up for a lecture I barely pay attention to? 'Cos I'm a sucker for his media gossip, haha!

My empty stomach's growling. I've stopped stocking my hall room pantry, and it is empty safe for instant coffee and Weet-bix. Great breakfast food, come to think of it. Alright, I've just been succumbing to later and later lie-in mornings. Haha! Lecture's over. Time to grab a sandwich and to sit down for a project brainstorm. I love projects. No sarcasm.

There's quite a bit to look forward to today. Darren's gonna show me the mortifying recording for my one-hit-'wonder' gig, I'm hitting the pool with the girls, and there's pizza block supper tonight. Off I go.

Easy breezy.

Easy breezy.
feeling: remiscent/daydreamy
music: jem - flying high

The bus wound past the riverside, slowly enough for me to take in the sights. Early birds having a cuppa at the new Starbucks outlet, sleeping bars, and a lone man jogging along the river. The riverside has held my romanticisms of idealism, ever since a friend brought me on an evening stroll some years back.

I remember walking past a quaint little Japanese cafe/bookshop which I have still yet to check out, past a bar that had sunchairs laid out (for people who are silly enough to tan by the river I assume), past families barbecuing by the riverside; and thinking how much I would love living in the area in the future. Beach sunsets are undeniably sexy, but there is an old-fashioned beauty about watching the sun set on the river. Kinda like the movie poster for Before Sunset.

Picture from http://www.impawards.com

The bus ultimately drove out of idealism into reality at Paragon, where Ceci and I went nuts at the Island Shop sale while waiting for Jem. Never, ever, shop before breakfast. The cafes we checked out quite didn't measure up to our good old favourite Cedele, so that was where we ended up once again.

Jem, "Look there, look there."

Like Ceci aptly puts it, "Nobody quite serves breakfast like Cedele."

Seeking conclusion, from all this confusion.

Seeking conclusion, from all this confusion.
feeling: choked
music: norah jones - thinking about you

Ever had a question you had no answer to? Or no credible reply? When I allow it, a kaleidoscope of mismatched thoughts fill my mind, especially that of a 2004 beach tarot reading. A million such questions and an unsavoury cocktail of emotions. I can't decide if Wednesday was a smart or dumb decision, and if it brought a certain closure or gnawed at unhealed wounds.

On that note, I can hardly wait for Norah Jones' latest cd to be out. I heard a couple of the songs, and apart from the fact that I am such a huge fan of her music, her lyrics seem to be describing my life right now. It's inspirational and healing in a way, and maybe that is what people meant when they said good lyrics are universal.

Why do my weekends always whizz by? Enjoyed a leisure dinner that lasted three hours with my sis at Borders Bistro yesterday, after our haircuts. Three hours, in the unwilling company of the table of three behind us who were happily getting pissed on three bottles of white wine/champagne. Come on, it was only 7 p.m. when they started sway-walking. We were bemused.

It's past midnight, but my brother's still over at our place, playing interior designer. The entire household's still awake, stuffed from Mom's birthday dinner earlier. All the aircons have been fixed, and repainting's next on the agenda. After spending an absurdly long time poring over the color catalogue, I've decided to go with an earthy khaki and gentle turquoise for my room. I really do fancy having a brick red feature wall, but my siblings' fengshui talk got to me. And you're wondering where I got that new-age streak??

Enough of that new-age mambo jumbo, and back to the topic at hand. Once my koyak grey built-in wardrobe's replaced with a nice wooden one (not till post Chinese New Year me thinks), and once I've gotten rid of all the junk like my even more koyak computer table, I'll hop down to Ikea for wooden blinds, a nice wooden desk, a new bookshelf and a tv table. And finally, a chance for the hammock I picked up in Bali, which i'd initially deemed an unworthy indulgence. My sister will be getting me two sturdy poles from her bestie, who is coincidentally named Michelle, haha. I'm so glad I had the good sense to buy the string lamps from Bangkok. And I've got quite a collection of knick knacks stashed away from my previous travels to add a bit of ethnic pizzazz.

Just think, my very own ethnic/resort inspired sanctuary, with a swinging hammock. I'm psyched!

A lil something for laughs - a short exchange between my brother (yeah, the one with the imaginary friend) and I at dinner earlier.

Me: Why the jacket?
Him: It's my new uniform! I wear a jacket everyday. Smart right?
Me: -studies him. Nope, not smart enough.
Him: 'Cos I'm wearing a tee inside now la. I wear a BLACK shirt on weekdays.
Me: Wah, so cool. You think you sell guns is it?
Him: No. I sell hand weapons. Wanna do, must do big. My guns is the kind need two, three people to operate one.
Me: LOL.

Time for bed. Brunch with Ceci and Jem tomorrow. I could seriously get used to this routine. Brunch, munch, smunch.

A solitary adventure.

A solitary adventure.

I think my life is a gym ball, and I refuse to get on it. Not on the ball, get it? I disturbingly enjoy planning my schedule ahead, and while I'm not saying it is a bad thing, I just don't enjoy last minute situations or crop ups. Which is what life is about ain't it? Grabbing life by the balls or horns or what not.

I had barely a day's notice, but I threw my irritating habit of inertia to the wind, prepped my portfolio and headed down to SPH for my writing test. I think I did fine by my own standards, but only time will tell if I meet that of SPH's. Fingers crossed!

The Media Centre seemed a bit out of the way, but the weather was cool albeit abit overcast, and with brief directions from the friendly guard, I set about to find my way home (there was only one bus at the stop so I couldn't go wrong). I was thrilled when the bus emerged from foreign land towards a familiar bus-stop. I quickly alighted, fully intending to hop on bus 147, but instead hopped on another, thinking it would bring me home as well. Instead of heading straight, the bus drove towards a huge roundabout, and horrors of all horrors, I realised I was headed in the opposite direction, away from my house. I was seriously contemplating torturing my poor bladder and taking the bus all the way to Eunos, but inspiration struck, and I got off the minute I saw an overhead bridge. The rest, as they say, is genius history.

I think my sense of direction is improving!

Rocking me inside.

Rocking me inside.
feeling: blah
music: jem - wish i

I took my chances on the rain and my female woes, plastered up Saturday's blisters, and strapped on my running shoes. Ran past Shenton Way and caught some skivers heading home before five. Tsk. Skiver meets skiver. I was supposed to be on the other end of Singapore attending my lecture.

The weight of melancholy. Not too heavy a burden, yet it rules through omnipotence. Right there, at the back of my mind. I'm tired.

Daphne sent me a constellation map, after our impromptu star-gazing at Homecoming. I'm kinda looking forward to getting all buried in work and burnt out. A beach holiday will be so much more enticing then. And the map'll come in useful.

I'm on mental holiday.

I'm on mental holiday.

Just back from a stitch inducing afternoon with the girls. Pseudo Spanish swear words and detachable body parts. Oh my. I've got just enough time to shower and zip out for dinner with Ceci at Jurong Point.

The evening sunshine's a deep gold; unlike the morning's pale magnolia.

I feel like I'm on a holiday!

One Sunday morning, sunny side-up please.

One Sunday morning, sunny side-up please.

Lovely Cedele brunch of wild blueberry pancakes and rosti.

A morning with Jemo before he succumbs to the allure of forests.



Borrowed a cookie book while we were at the library. I was thinking of my business dream and I thought I'd better feed my backpackers well, lol! On a whim, I baked these peanut butter cookies under Jem's subtle encouragement. They turned out really well, as did the tangy lemon bars.

Hey Jem, kowtow to the culinary master. Hahaha.

Rushed out with the neighbours/childhood buds to a primary school friend's 21st.

Here I am, home, late and awfully sleepy.

Girls interrupted.

Girls interrupted.
feeling: the weight of the world
music: amos less ft. norah jones - colors

Ten traumatic laps in a pool monopolized by kids has led Lanxi and I to an unanimous decision - we're sticking to beach runs for our weekend workouts. Nothing quite ruins the momentum than the worry of kicking someone in the face; or getting kicked in the face by someone.

School work's starting. Don't get me started on CS105 and the four irritating journal reviews we have to do. I can feel my procrastination mechanism kicking in, but fight I shall.

Dad's going through a rough patch, and it struck me that I haven't really been there for him. It's a tough balance for I don't quite like to get embroiled in the workings of the family business; but I do want to lend him, if anything, a listening ear.

I know I haven't been quite myself. It has been an emotionally taxing week, made worse by an unusually bad bout of PMS. I wish so much to lift the weight off my shoulders and unburden it on someone, but I am oddly selective of confidantes. There is no problem, and thus no need for advice or solutions. What good would a listening ear be, but to listen?

I realised that I've made quite a few plans with people; plans which I am not quite ready to fulfill. I am perfectly fine, 'cept that my ticklish, trash talking persona will be too much of an effort to summon. I'm craving for a bit of solitude and subdued familiarity, and I don't think I'll make very good social company right now.

Copped out of dining out with the folks and instead treated myself to a long post rain run. Past the railway station. Under trees wet with rain. On the pavement. On the tarmac. Between badly parked motorcycles. Through dim alleyways and uneven grounds. Past semi-asleep shophouses. Three satisfying rounds. Times like these I feel I don't give my body enough faith in the distance it can take me.

Here I am in my jammies, showered and covered in Hazeline Snow. I'm ready for a good sleep, and for brunch with Jem in the morning.

Take me to Havana.

Take me to Havana.

picture courtesy of http://www.southamericanexperience.co.uk

Gin has kindly informed me that applying for a visa to Cuba will be one hell of an experience. And the trip will be one hell of an adventure too I assume, but we won't know will we, until further reports on Castro's condition.

I'm resolving to visit the place before I turn 30. I'd have said 25, but considering how out of the way it is, and how I probably will have to save and plan to visit the places around it to make the most out of my air ticket, 30 is a more realistic bet.

I've got ten years to brush up on my Spanish.

winter

winter

refuge only
lasts so long
the bravado must fall

smiles so real
i almost
quite almost, fool myself

false fronts only
mask the grief
that comes in ravaging waves

the ice comes
after storms
to freeze and hold the pain

winter only
lasts so long
the defeated must crawl.

Roaming empty minds.

Roaming empty minds.
feeling: sick
music: john mayer - slow dancing in a burning room

Hypothesis 1: Pi pa gao soothes a sore throat but causes a cough.
Hypothesis 2: Pi pa gao is of no help whatsoever to a cranky throat; the sore throat healed on its own and was replaced by a cough.

Not like I've got much of a choice. Pi pa gao is the closest cranky throat suppressant I have here in hall. I've just taken a hot shower (about time Hall 4 heater!) and the impossibly hot water on my sunburnt back has succeeded in making me feel almost human again.

*Note to self: Quit being lazy and get girlfriends to help with applying sunblock on back. The overcast skies cleared the minute we hit the pool.

My aunt has just called to check if I'm alright. The extended family, all ten of them, are down with stomach flu. That may explain my sudden throat malfunction. I've decided to put myself to bed by 10:30pm before any possible bug rears its ugly head. Sleep can be the best drug-free drug.

I'd meant to blog about this yesterday but I clean forgot about it - Monday is officially Horny Monday, thanks to the girls' suggestive dressing and even lewder vocalized thoughts (I.e. Chrystal: Don't you feel like pulling Daph's skirt down?). Goodbye Monday Blues.

I'm getting woozy. Am contemplating watching a Grey's Anatomy re-run, but I think I should sleep. Once I pack my overnight back. Buenos noches.