Heading South

What is it?

2009-08-16T22:52:00.001+08:00

Love or lust?

Making love or raw sex?

Romance or passion?

5 Films I Like

2009-08-16T22:46:00.002+08:00

Almost Famous

The blue-eyes of a 15-year-old watch in earnest and with innocence the brutal but alluring world of rock, sex, alcohol and drugs. He isn’t cool, and neither is he trying to be. A plotless comedy in which the 70’s never looked so sexy and its music never sounded so fine. And that oh-so-painful realization that beneath it all, love conquers and destroys all. If music is the food of love, rock on!

Billy Elliot

Billy wants to dance in this film where subliminal love quickly overtakes the importance of romance and sex. Quirky characters abound aplenty, each with a magical touch that precipitates discreetly into one of the most charming and delightful yet most under-rated film about self discovery. It’s electricity without lightning or thunder.

The Dark Knight

Batman has no superpowers - only a super-wallet - against one of the most disturbing characters ever captured on film. Reason challenged, logic shorn apart, the Joker is nihilism personified in a Gotham City that felt too real for its own good. It was a once-in-an-80-year-history chance when a film was simultaneously the most important, best made and biggest blockbuster of the year. And the Academy failed to even nominate it for Best Picture. Shame.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Lacuna Inc. isn’t real, but it should be. It’s Rashomon on steroids in a fashion that could only be envisioned and crafted by the flawless precision of Michel Gondry. A masterful reconstruction and revisitation of the thick but often ignored line between memory and reality. Beyond everything, a love story that is, by leaps and bounds, unlike any love movie ever, and I dare say, will ever be, made.

Romy And Michele’s High School Reunion

A film in which a decade-long friendship is at serious stake over Post-It’s will probably never be a Citizen Kane, or even be on the same list elsewhere. But there is something intangibly mesmerizing about the quiet confidence of a movie where two blondes try to prove themselves to their fellow alumni. That’s right - it’s a blonde film, complete with a glittering wardrobe, bitch-slaps and, of course, interpretive dance.

Notes From The Golden Prison - Education

2008-07-08T13:23:00.004+08:00

In the past one year, I have attained several accomplishments, most of which shocked the hell out of me. First was finding out that, apparently, I am not smarter than a fifth grader. I don’t even know what the equivalent of a fifth grader in Singapore is, yet alone their curriculum, but there is something intangibly alluring and downright psychotic about a child who can barely reach the kitchen sink knowing how many sides a trapezoid has. Heck, I didn’t even know such a word exists. But modern technology has produced Wikipedia, the digital beacon of knowledge and all things truthful, which confirmed that a trapezoid is nothing more than a trapezium (for those keeping scores, it has four sides, two of which are parallel to one another, and the other two in some random direction).

So my primary five education wasn’t a complete waste after all. But in the years between graduating from primary five and watching that particular episode of Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader, I cannot really recall when I used the shape last. Come to think of it, I cannot really recall when concepts like rectangles or squares were used in everyday life. (I did, however, use the word triangle – the musical instrument, not the shape. I was starting a band with some Dungeonites, and my instrument of choice was the air-triangle, which, when orchestrated against the air-cymbals and air-clarinet, makes an exceptionally symphonic imaginary sound).

Further education opened me up to even new concepts. I know what the Hobbesian state of nature is, but I doubt I can use that word ever again, unless of course, I further my studies and eventually become an academic. That is a great job – adding on to libraries of the world pompous shenanigans that no one will probably ever read, unless forced by the fear of a ‘D’ grade. I also know what Nietzsche was trying to express in Also Sprach Zarathustra, even though I have never read that book (I bought it though. It looks pretty on my shelf.) I understand the concept of balance of power, but how do I begin to make sense of this term and apply it to the world when actual borders are nothing more than imaginary lines between countries?

Looking back, I am rather confused about the education that I had been exposed to. And about one year and a day ago, I, together with all of you (with the exception of Serene, who is unable to officially call herself a graduate since she has not gone through the rite of passage of throwing her mortarboard into the air and into a pile of mud), celebrated the end of our formal education. And what did we learn out of it? Basically that what we know isn’t really useful unless it is either completely imagined or if it is for publication purposes or it looks pretty as some decoration.

And that fifth graders are smarter than us.

(For the record, I finally learnt from the power that is Wikipedia, that the local equivalent is a Primary 5-er. I should have seen it coming.)

Happy anniversary, y’all.

Notes From The Golden Prison: Soccer

2008-06-23T11:49:00.003+08:00

Last night, our dearest nation was pit against Lebanon, a country of no more importance than ours, in a breathtakingly mundane match at the Tripoli Municipal Stadium. Mediacorp TV had benevolently decided to air this match for Singaporeans who are presumably eager to find the fate of their nation in the race for the much touted World Cup 2010, after a humiliating defeat in its home-ground that came as a surprise to virtually no one. At 11pm local time, the kick-off time of the match, I switched my television set on only to find Donald Trump and his corporatenistas-in-training slashing each other’s throats akin to how animals are butchered in a country insulated from animal-rights activism. Naturally I called Mediacorp up, enquiring about the much-neglected match, only to learn that it will be telecast at the ungodly hour of 12:30 am, with an end-time of 2am, just in time for the stand-down between the Spaniards and the Italians.

One and a half hours later, I switched my television set on again, and found our national anthem being played and presumably lip-synched by our national players who were gracefully lined up on the field in frigid blue. The Lebanon team, on the other hand, was dressed in dark shades of red – very trendy to fashion watchers and readers of Vogue. All these took place in a stadium that was built to seat 40,000 but was the venue-of-choice to no more than 50. Or so it could have been, considering where the camera was located. But 50 is a generous estimate by most accounts – a number of such astute insignificance, that even ESPN left the ATTENDANCE figure in its global website blank.

10 minutes into the match, the cameraman, obviously bored, decided to capture on film something far more exciting – a small bird on the field feeding among the grass. Obviously, this was all on delay: the bird had probably flown off by the time I watched it on TV, and the Singaporean team doubtlessly exuberant over their victory, never mind that the winning factor was an own-goal from a Lebanese player. Butter, like they say, no matter how it is churned, is still butter.

Unless, of course, it is left in the sun for a long period of time, when all you are left with is saturated oil.

So over the past weekend, dramatic things took place. And they came to pass.

Weekends – a fundamental pillar to our collective sanity. One we waited for ever to come only to watch it disappear like pee when flushed away, gradually, but surely, replaced by clear water that, as advised, is not potable.

Ah the wonders of life, and that oh-so-difficult task of balancing our lives and setting our priorities right. Decisions, decisions, decisions. But for now, I shall get back to what really matters at this point in time – pondering whether I should take a dump or not.

And then where I should take it.

2008

2008-01-01T02:16:00.000+08:00

There are times when I look above and beyond.

There are times when I feel you smile upon me, baby.

I'll never forget my baby.

What I'd give just to hold you close. As on earth, in heaven we will be together, baby.

Together again, my baby.

Everywhere I go, every smile I see. I know you are there smiling back at me.

Dancing in moonlight I know you are free.

'Cos I can see your star shining down on me

Together Again, Janet Jackson

It's You. Always.

2007-12-03T23:27:00.000+08:00

If it wasn't the ocean
Wasn't the breezes
Wasn't the white sand
There might be no need

If I could sleep through the cool nights
If I could breathe and eat right
If I had worked all summer
Maybe I wouldn't feel so humble

Oh you
It's always you
It's always you

If red roses weren't so lovely
If wine didn't taste so good
If stars weren't so romantic
Then I could do what I should

Oh you
It's always you
It's always you

If your love I could command it
Get your head to understand it
I'd go twice around the world
Even though I may not find it

29

2007-11-06T10:29:00.000+08:00

Happy birthday, Andy.

The Day The Music Died

2007-10-19T10:48:00.000+08:00

I am guessing we all have experienced this.

Or, for the lucky few, probably will, someday.

The times of carefree living disappearing, and commitments starting to pour in endlessly.

It’s like playing in front of a dam, behind a huge wall that stores a devastatingly large amount of water.

And as we play, music fills our minds, and we are comforted, thinking of little else.

And one day, we see water spilling into the spillway and onto the ground on which we always play.

No matter how much water we see is spilling out, there’s still a huge reservoir from where it came.

Then we become so obsessed with trying to handle this never-ending flow of water, that we become oblivious to everything else.

The music that we are so familiar with, we don’t hear anymore.

Not because it has stopped playing.

But because we are so focused on saving ourselves that we don’t notice it playing anymore.

Instead we hear a dark, icy silence of unknowns and fear.

The music doesn’t stop existing or playing.

The music, for us, just dies.

And I guess that is why music is so nostalgic.

The music that was playing in our minds when we were experiencing life like we never had.

And never will, again.

Reminding us of a time that we probably can never return to.

February 3rd, 1959.

A plane that was carrying Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and The Big Bopper crashed, killing all three of them.

For Don McLean, it was a significant date.

It was a defining moment in his life.

It was the date he stepped forward into an unknown abyss.

An abyss seemingly never-ending.

But knowingly finite.

It was the day that his music died.

Has the music died for you, Miss American Pie?

A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance that I could make those people dance and maybe they’d be happy for a while. But February made me shiver. With every paper I’d deliver, bad news on the doorstep; I couldn’t take one more step. I can’t remember if I cried when I read about his widowed bride, but something touched me deep inside the day the music died.

So bye-bye, Miss American Pie. Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry. And the good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singing, "this will be the day that I die. This will be the day that I die."

Did you write the book of love and do you have faith in God above if the Bible tells you so? Do you believe in Rock ’n Roll? Can music save your mortal soul and can you teach me how to dance real slow? Well, I know that you’re in love with him because I saw you dancing in the gym. You both kicked off your shoes. Man, I dig those rhythm and blues! I was a lonely teenage-broncing-buck, with a pink carnation and a pickup truck but I knew I was out of luck. The day the music died, I started singing.

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own and moss grows fat on a rolling stone, but that’s not how it used to be. When the jester sang for the king and queen, in a coat he borrowed from James Dean and a voice that came from you and me. While the king was looking down, the jester stole his thorny crown. The courtroom was adjourned; no verdict was returned. And while Lenin read a book of Marx, the quartet practiced in the park. And we sang dirges in the dark. The day the music died, we were singing.

Helter-skelter in a summer swelter. The birds flew off with a fallout shelter eight miles high and falling fast – it landed foul on the grass. The players tried for a forward pass with the jester on the sidelines in a cast. Now the half-time air was sweet perfume while the sergeants played a marching tune. We all got up to dance, but we never got the chance because the players tried to take the field. The marching band refused to yield. Do you recall what was revealed? The day the music died, we started singing.

And there we were all in one place, a generation lost in space with no time left to start again. So come on: Jack be nimble, Jack be quick! Jack Flash sat on a candlestick because fire is the devil’s only friend. And as I watched him on the stage, my hands were clenched in fists of rage. No angel born in hell could break that Satan’s spell. And as the flames climbed high into the night to light the sacrificial rite, I saw Satan laughing with delight. The day the music died, he was singing.

I met a girl who sang the blues and I asked her for some happy news, but she just smiled and turned away. I went down to the sacred store where I’d heard the music years before, but the man there said the music wouldn’t play. And in the streets: the children screamed the lovers cried, and the poets dreamed but not a word was spoken; the church bells all were broken. And the three men I admire most – the father, son, and the holy ghost – they caught the last train for the coast. The day the music died, they were singing.

Bye-bye, Miss American Pie.

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.

And the good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singing, ‘this will be the day that I die.’

“This will be the day that I die.”

Saving A Life

2007-09-22T20:16:00.000+08:00

Where did I go wrong?
I lost a friend somewhere along in the bitterness.
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life.

How To Save A Life, The Fray

Walk On

2007-07-29T16:56:00.000+08:00

I should really get used to the sight of you walking away from me.

Somehow, I never managed to.

Convocation

2007-07-07T18:42:00.000+08:00

I wish you had lived to see this day.

I hope you are proud of me.

Say It Right

2007-06-20T14:48:00.000+08:00

From my hands I can give you something that I made

From my mouth I can sing you another brick that I laid

From my body I can show you a place God knows

You should know.

This space is holy.

Do you really wanna go?

Say It Right, Nelly Furtado (Album: Loose)

Passion

2007-04-20T08:43:00.000+08:00

Passion.

It’s a force so potent we still remember it.

Long after it has faded away.

A drive so alluring,

It can push us in the arms of unexpected lovers.

A sensation so overwhelming,

It can knock down walls we’ve built to protect our hearts.

It feeling so intense,

It resurfaces even though we tried so hard to keep it buried.

Yes.

Of all emotions, passion is the one that gives us a reason to live.

And an excuse,

To commit all sorts of crimes.

Desperate Housewives, "Liaisons", Episode 65, Season 3,
Written by Alexandra Cunningham and Jenna Bans,
Directed by David Grossman

Immortality

2007-04-14T01:46:00.000+08:00

Four years later,

You're still on my mind.

Einstein And Love

2007-04-03T07:26:00.000+08:00

For the weird module Einstein's Universe And Quantum Weirdness, we (as in, me and my evil twin) discovered why the sky is blue. Turns out, I knew all along, but he didn't. He said it was because he had spent the last 8 months in the Sahara Desert helping lionesses give birth. It was a noble deed, so I was more than willing to overlook that.

But the point is, now that I have one question answered, I still have some more to go, based on what the New Radicals wrote.

Questions are:

1. Whatever happened to Amelia Earhart?

2. Who holds the stars up in the sky?

3. Is true love just once in a lifetime?

4. Did the captain of the Titanic cry?

5. Does anyone know the way to Atlantis?

6. What did wind say when she cries?

7. Why did Samson love Delila?

8. Can love move a mountain?

9. Is true love just once in a lifetime?

10. Why wasn't I meant for you?

And finally, if could ask God just one question...Why aren't you here with me tonight?

I guess some questions are never meant to be answered.

Blood Suckers

2007-03-28T20:39:00.000+08:00

They say you are a man of good...taste.

Bram Stoker's Dracula, 1992

I Had A Drive

2007-03-22T10:15:00.000+08:00

This time it's done, it'll never feel the same.

But we had some good times...

Guess it's sad, just the same.

I guess the truth doesn't matter, somehow.

But you were living proof of what love is about.

Should I Stay, Dreamz FM

Vanity

2007-03-21T08:13:00.000+08:00

I betcha think this post is about you.

Hypocrisy

2007-03-18T16:24:00.000+08:00

Everyone puts themselves first before others, despite what they say.

It shouldn't even be a secret.

But some choose not to acknowledge nor admit it.

And that's fine.

But just don't go about pretending that you are beyond all that.

Don't go about saying that whatever happens, you still put others before yourselves.

And when the time comes, do the exact opposite.

And with a smile to go.

And that stupid "Oh I am just thinking about you and others" rhetoric.

Fucking pricks.

Anyone wants a knife?

Get the one in my back.

Nothing's Gonna Stop Me Now

2007-03-11T22:32:00.001+08:00

Sometimes the world looks perfect - nothing to rearrange. Sometimes you just get a feeling like you need some kind of change. No matter what the odds are this time, nothing's going to stand in my way. This flame in my heart, and a long lost friend, gives every dark street a light at the end.

Standing tall, on the wings of my dream. Rise and fall, on the wings of my dream.

The rain and thunder, the wind and haze, I'm bound for better days. It's my life and my dream.

Nothing's going to stop me now.

Nothing's Gonna Stop Me Now, David Pomeranz (From "Perfect Strangers")

Bright And Fresh

2007-03-07T09:39:00.000+08:00

New life. Let's get it started, baby.

The Oscars

2007-02-25T12:35:00.000+08:00

Here we go again. The Oscar. King of Hollywood. A gold man perpetually on a pedestal with a long, big sword covering his crown jewels. Freud will have plenty to analyze.

But most importantly, that gold man is up for grabs again - not that anyone I know gives a damn about who wins or were even nominated. But it's a personal project that I like to embark on every year. So, just like in years passed, here we go!

Best Actress In A Supporting Role

In the running are...

Adriana Barraza, Babel
Cate Blanchett, Notes on a Scandal
Abigail Breslin, Little Miss Sunshine
Jennifer Hudson, Dreamgirls
Rinko Kikuchi, Babel

In a nutshell, Hudson in THE dream girl!

The two nominees from Babel (Barraza and Kikuchi) will cancel each other out in the voting process, with neither carrying enough weight to shift votes to their own side for the win. Abigail Breslin...Abigail who? It’s nice to see a child win an award. But it seems unlikely that this is the year for it.

It boils down to Blanchett and Hudson, but the later has more advantage due to the the buzz she has been getting from her (a) American Idol fame, (b) the late release date of Dreamgirls and (c) all the awards that are taking space on her shelf. Blanchett was just Oscar’d two years ago, so it’s too early for another pat on the back, especially for such an unmemorable performance.

Final say:

Who will win: Jennifer Hudson, Dreamgirls

Who should win: Jennifer Hudson, Dreamgirls

Best Actor In A Supporting Role

In the running are...

Alan Arkin, Little Miss Sunshine
Jackie Earle Haley, Little Children
Djimon Hounsou, Blood Diamond
Eddie Murphy, Dreamgirls
Mark Wahlberg, The Departed

In a nutshell, Hollywood will not pass on this chance to honour one of its icons.

Arkin, Haley and Hounsou’s nominations are probably as far as they can get. Fine performances, sure, but all of them combined don’t even match up to the hype that the other two nominees carry individually.

Between the latter two, Murphy has the upper hand, for the same reasons as Hudson, minus the American Idol fame, but plus his iconic status as one of Hollywood’s leading comedians.

Wahlberg is the dark horse. A career topping, but severely under-rated, performance under the direction of the thus-far-Oscar-robbed-slash-living-legend Scorsese, might just allow more votes to creep in than most think.

Final say;

Who will win: Eddie Murphy, Dreamgirls

Who should win: Mark Wahlberg, The Departed

Best Actress

In the running are...

Penélope Cruz, Volver
Judi Dench, Notes on a Scandal
Helen Mirren, The Queen
Meryl Streep, The Devil Wears Prada
Kate Winslet, Little Children

In a nutshell, British royalty versus Hollywood royalty.

Cruz has been doing her rounds and hyping up her presence as an actress and now a nominee, but it takes more than that - this year at least - to hold down the others in competition for the little gold man.

The three Brits are a force to reckon with - with no canceling out of each other in sight - and Helen Mirren in the clear lead for the win. Dame Judi just needs to breathe to get a nomination, and Winslet, while giving a performance amazingly nuanced and powerful, had done better work, though none brought her the Oscar. Payback year? Most probably, but not for her. The payback is for Mirren for playing the British monarch.

But then there’s the Grand Dame of Hollywood - Meryl Streep, with 14 nominations and 2 wins under her belt - in the most delicious role and performance of the year. If anyone could give Mirren a run for the Oscar, it is her.

Final say:

Who will win: Helen Mirren

Who should win: Helen Mirren

Best Actor

In the running are...

Leonardo DiCaprio, Blood Diamond
Ryan Gosling, Half Nelson
Peter O'Toole, Venus
Will Smith, The Pursuit of Happyness
Forest Whitaker, The Last King of Scotland

In a nutshell, it's Whitaker versus the the Academy's guilt.

Ah the mystery! Whitaker has more awards to his name for The Last King of Scotland than the rest of the nominees combined. I wonder who the Academy will choose as Best Actor.

Hang on. Isn't that Peter O’Toole, nominated for Venus? Wasn’t he nominated 6 times before, and winning none before being presented with an honorary Oscar? Could this be his payback year? Or are we just overestimating the power of an Academy ridiculed with guilt?

Final say:

Who will win: Peter O'Toole

Who should win: Forest Whitaker

Best Director

In the running are...

Alejandro González Iñárritu, Babel
Martin Scorsese, The Departed
Clint Eastwood, Letters from Iwo Jima
Stephen Frears, The Queen
Paul Greengrass, United 93

In a nutshell: It’s all yours Marty! Finally!

Cancel out Greengrass and Frears. The former’s work is not even in the running for Best Picture, signaling that the entire Academy, on a whole, does not have a strong impression of him. The Queen was essentially a Helen Mirren vehicle, not a Stephen Frears one.

So that leaves us with Iñárritu, Scorsese and Eastwood. My guess is that Iñárritu was nominated as a payback for his snub for 21 Grams, one of the best films of 2003, and a nomination is as far as he can go this year.

Which leaves us with Scorsese and Eastwood. Again.

Scorsese has the DGA Awards - always a good thing when it comes to competing for the grand-papa of directing awards. Eastwood started out as an actor - also a good thing for an Academy whose largest bloc is the actor branch. Eastwood’s winning formula won him two Oscars, so this time, Scorsese’s trump card wins.

Scorsese has 6 nominations so far and a grand total of zero wins. Eastwood has 4 so far, with 2 wins. Scorsese’s really due for one - and Hollywood knows that. If the Academy wishes to corrects its sins, and avoid another Hitchcock/Kubrick/Altman shame, now’s the time.

Final say:

Who will win: Martin Scorsese

Who should win: Martin Scorsese

Best Picture

In the running are...

Babel
The Departed
Letters from Iwo Jima
Little Miss Sunshine
The Queen

In a nutshell: It’s easier - and more accurate - to write the titles on pieces of paper, put them in a bowl and pick one out.

The most nominated film usually wins. But Dreamgirls, this year’s champ, is not even in the running. The film nominated for Best Picture with the most nomination is Babel with 7. The Queen has 6 while coming in third is The Departed with 5. Iwo Jima and Sunshine have 4 each.

Iwo jima and The Queen will be shut out. It’s too soon to award another Eastwood helmed film as best picture, and the The Queen was primarily about Helen Mirren, and no one else - a very weak claim to this throne.

That leaves us with three films left. As mentioned, The Departed will most probably see Scorsese on stage to receive his long-awaited Oscar, and this bodes the film well. Babel,the most nominated film in this category, is in high gear and, with Best Motion Picture Drama victory at the Golden Globes, is proving to be the film to beat. But wait a second, here comes Little Miss Sunshine which, although conventional wisdom works against its win, has been slowly packing a heavy punch for itself with a plethora of awards and recognition.

Even today, less than 24 hours before the ceremony, the race looks blurry. But at this point, Babel, with a strong backing from the various branches of the Academy - as reflected in its multiple nominations, looks all set to win.

Who will win: Babel

Who should win: Little Miss Sunshine

Like A Friend

2007-02-13T23:05:00.000+08:00

Don’t bother saying you’re sorry. Why don’t you come in? Smoke all my cigarettes – again. Every time I get no further..how long has it been? Come on in. Now wipe your feet on my dreams.

You take up my time like some cheap magazine when I could have been learning something. Oh well. You know what I mean.

I’ve done this before. And I will do it again. Come on and kill me baby, while you smile like a friend. And I’ll come running, just to do it again.

You are the last drink I never should have drunk. You are the body hidden in the trunk. You are the habit I can’t seem to kick. You are my secrets on the front page every week. You are the car I never should have bought. You are the train I never should have caught. You are the cut that makes me hide my face. You are the party that makes me feel my age.

Like a car crash I can see but I just can’t avoid. Like a plane I’ve been told I never should have board. Like a film that’s so bad but I’ve gotta stay til the end.

Let me tell you now: It’s lucky for you that we’re friends.

Like A Friend, Pulp

How 2006 Has Been

2006-12-31T01:11:00.000+08:00

Rocky

Oh Well

2006-12-28T11:54:00.000+08:00

I wanted you so much

Just like I do right now

I wanted us to be the ones the poets write their books about

I wanted it to last

I wanted to grow old

But life got in the way

Excerpts from "Life Got In The Way", Sister Hazel, from the album Chasing Daylights

Washing Clean

2006-12-20T14:35:00.000+08:00

Every storm brings with it hope.

That somehow,

By morning,

Everything will be made clean again.

And even the most troubling states

Will have disappeared.

Like the doubts over his innocence.

Or the consequence of his mistake.

Like the scars of his betrayal.

Or the memory of his kiss.

So we wait for the storm to pass.

Hoping for the best.

Even though we know,

In our hearts,

Some stains are so indelible,

Nothing can wash them away.

"Listen To The Rain On The Roof", Desperate Housewives, 2006

Love Never Dies

2006-12-14T18:15:00.000+08:00

Do you believe in destiny?

That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose?

That the luckiest man

Who walks upon this earth

Is the one who finds

True love?

Bram Stoker's Dracula, Francis Ford Copolla (dir.), 1992

A Love Stronger Than Death

2006-12-14T18:09:00.000+08:00

Come into these arms again

And lay your body down

The rhythm of this trembling heart

Is beating

Like a drum

It beats for you

It bleeds for you

It knows not how it sounds

For it is the drum of drums

It is the song of songs

Once I had the rarest rose

That ever deemed to bloom

Cruel winter chilled the bud

And stole my flower too soon

Oh loneliness

Oh hopelessness

To search the ends of time

For there is in all the world

No greater love

Than mine.

Still falls the rain

Still falls the night

Damned forever

Let me be the only one

To keep you from the cold

Now the floor of heaven is laid

The stars are bright as gold

They shine for you

They shine for you

They burn for all to see

Come into these arms again

And set this spirit free

Love Song For A Vampire, Annie Lennox

Hopes

2006-12-14T01:03:00.000+08:00

Maybe one day, we'll be better friends than we were lovers.

(Courtesy of Jesslyn)

Choices

2006-12-11T23:06:00.000+08:00

So do all who see such times

But that is not for them to decide

All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.

The Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring

Changes

2006-12-11T13:39:00.000+08:00

How do you pick up the threads of an old life?

How do you go on?

When in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back.

There are some things that time can not mend.

Some hurts that go too deep.

That have taken hold.

The Lord Of The Rings: Return Of The King

Here And Now, There And Then

2006-12-09T22:21:00.000+08:00

I don’t know about you but I don’t have any more time.

I have less time.

But let’s just say we could save a whole chunk of time and set it aside.

You know what we’d do with it?

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Isn’t that the point?

To be able to do nothing at all?

But we’re not guaranteed that later-on chunk of time.

All we have is here and now.

And that’s why procrastination feels so right.

Procrastination is not the problem.

It is the solution.

It is the universe’s way of saying: stop!

Slow down.

You move too fast.

Listen to the music.

Listen to the music!

Because music makes the people come together.

It makes the bourgeois and the rebel.

So come on, people, now.

Smile on your brother.

And everybody, try to love one another.

Because what the world needs now is love.

Sweet love.

And I know that love is a battlefield.

But boogie on, reggae woman.

Because you’re gonna make it after all.

So celebrate good times.

Come on.

I’ve gotta stop.

I’ve got to come to my senses.

I’ve been up riding fences for so long.

Ooops.

I did it again.

What I’m trying to say is, if you leave here tonight, and you don’t remember anything else that I’ve said, leave here, and remember this.

Procrastinate now.

Don’t put it off.

Ellen Degeneres, Here And Now

Eternity

2006-12-08T12:35:00.000+08:00

I'll love you forever.

I'll like you for always.

As long as I'm living.

My baby you'll be.

Love You Forever, Robert Munsch

Morality

2006-12-06T00:53:00.000+08:00

What is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil.

Friedrich Nietzsche

Of Two Evils

2006-12-03T11:45:00.000+08:00

Have you ever wondered which hurts more?

Saying something and wishing you had not?

Or saying nothing, and wishing you had?

Unknown

Insanity

2006-12-02T21:44:00.000+08:00

There is always some madness in love.

But there is also always some reason in madness.

Friedrich Nietzsche

Love and Destruction

2006-11-28T20:27:00.000+08:00

Betrayals in war are shell-like compared to betrayals in peace

New lovers are tender

But smash everything

For the heart is an organ of fire

Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

Let Me Let Go

2006-11-25T17:07:00.000+08:00

Not a single minute passes
Without you in it
Your voice
Your touch
Memories of your love
Are with me
All of the time

The lights of this strange city are shining
But they don't hold no fascination for me
I try to find the bright side
But everywhere I look
Everywhere I turn
You're all I see

Let me let go
It just isn't right
I've been two thousand miles
Down a dead-end road

If this is for the best
Why are you still in my heart?

You're still in my soul.

Let me let go.

----------
Excerps from "Let Me Let Go",
Faith Hill (artist),
Steve Diamond, Dennis Morgan (songwriters)
from the album Faith

Caution

2006-11-21T09:30:00.000+08:00

Be careful.

Be very careful.

Aging

2006-11-06T14:14:00.000+08:00

Happy birthday, Andy.

Man

2006-11-05T21:29:00.000+08:00

Lust.

Reason.

Faith.

Love.

Time

2006-11-03T02:22:00.000+08:00

They stood by the road, just the two of them.

Both said nothing.

They looked into each other's eyes.

And gazed into a world they were so familiar with.

Somehow both needed, yet were afraid, to step into that world again.

A gentle wind came.

And blew dust into their eyes.

They closed their eyes.

When they opened them again, they continued gazing into each other's eyes.

But the universe that they saw before was gone.

In its place an abyss.

Yet, within that emptiness, they knew it housed something so warm and rich barely seconds ago.

But those seconds seeemed like eternity.

Words continued to be unspoken.

Finally, the car came, and the silence was broken.

"I have to go," one of them said.

"Stay," said the other.

"I can't," the first one replied.

"Can't? Or Won't?"

"Both," came the reply.

"I had so many opportunities to say this, but I chose to let them pass by," the other one said. "The truth is..."

"Don't say it" snapped the first one.

A few seconds of silence came to pass.

"But I do," the other one softly whispered.

But the whisper sounded like the thunder to the other.

"I do, too," the first one uttered, and turned around and walked to the car.

The other reached out and pulled back one of the arms of the other.

The other was stopped, and looked back.

A last glance was exchanged.

A last smile presented.

And a last tear shed.

Shaking the arm free, the last words were delivered.

"It's time to let go."

Moving On

2006-11-03T02:13:00.000+08:00

He remembers those vanished years.

As though looking through a dusty window pane.

The past is something he could see, but not touch.

And everything he sees is blurred and indistinct.

花样年华, Wong Kar-wai (dir.), (USA Films: Hong Kong, 2000)

Letting Go

2006-11-03T02:02:00.000+08:00

I would rather be a ghost

Drifting by your side

As a condemned soul

Than enter heaven without you.

Because of your love,

I will never be a lonely spirit.

卧虎藏龙, Ang Lee (dir.), (Sony Pictures Classic: Hong Kong, 2000)

Sweet Pillow Talks

2006-11-03T01:50:00.000+08:00

"Baby, do you think it's possible that anyone else in the world is doing this very same thing at this very same moment?

I hope so.

Otherwise, what the hell are we trying to save?"

Armageddon, Michael Bay (dir.), (Touchstone Pictures: USA, 1998)

Revelations

2006-11-01T15:40:00.000+08:00

"I've made the most important discovery of my life.

It's only in the mysterious equation of love that any logical reasons can be found.

I'm only here tonight because of you.

You are the only reason I am.

You are all my reasons."

A Beautiful Mind, Ron Howard (dir.), (Universal Pictures: USA, 2001)

Regrets

2006-10-28T02:30:00.000+08:00

"...[Y]ou don't get chances like this all the time... you're gonna be kicking yourself when you're 80, which is hard to do, and that's how you break a hip."

Phoebe Buffay, in Friends: The One With Barry and Mindy's Wedding, Michael Lembeck (dir.), (NBC: USA, 1996)

Twelfth Night

2006-10-24T01:06:00.000+08:00

My story starts at sea.

A perilous voyage to an unknown land.

A shipwreck.

The wild waters roar and heave.

The brave vessel is dashed all to pieces.

And all the helpless souls within her drowned.

All save one.

A lady whose soul is greater than the ocean.

And her spirit stronger than the sea's embrace.

Not for her watery end.

But a new life beginning on a stranger shore.

It will be a love story.

For she will be my heroine for all time.

And her name will be Viola.

Shakespeare In Love, John Madden (dir.), (Miramax Pictures: USA, 1998)

Nothing

2006-10-18T06:04:00.000+08:00

This, too, shall pass.

Life Is Like Waiting For The Bus

2006-09-29T08:59:00.002+08:00

Sometimes the bus is late. So you'll end up late.

Sometimes the bus is early. But you're not at the bus stop yet. So you miss it. So you'll end up late.

Sometimes it seems like it will never come. And when it does, it's full and you can't get up. So you miss it.

Again.

So, regardless of the time you started waiting, you'll still end up late.

Sometimes, you're waiting at the wrong bus stop. So the bus you're waiting for never comes.

Sometimes, the bus stop has no shelter. And then it starts raining.

Sometimes, a good friend waits with you at the same bus stop.

Sometimes, it is someone you hate.

Sometimes, you're alone.

Sometimes, you're in a company of complete strangers. But you're still alone.

Sometimes, other buses, which will also take you to your destination, comes along.

Sometimes, these other buses will take you there faster.

But you don't know this.

So you end up not taking it.

Sometimes, the bus driver is nice.

Sometimes, the bus driver is from hell.

Sometimes, you realize, after waiting for 45 minutes and seeing the bus coming, that you don't have any change. And that your EZ-Link card has no value.

Sometimes, a random person waiting for the bus asks you for some change.

Sometimes, you ask a random person waiting for the bus for some change.

Sometimes, you're waiting for the bus that will take you to work.

Sometimes, you're waiting for the bus that will take you to play.

Sometimes, you have no idea why you're waiting for the bus.

Sometimes, you're waiting for a bus to get to another bus stop, where you'll transfer to another bus. Then the whole process of waiting starts again.

And sometimes, it's so much easier and faster to take a cab. Just that it's more expensive.

But there's a price to pay for everything.

Maybe One Day

2006-09-25T16:20:00.000+08:00

I’m just saying
Maybe for the last time
Go on,
Let it all go
I’m sure that now is the time

Maybe you’re no longer what you used to be
Maybe that feeling has faded away

And maybe one day if we were to meet again
Don’t try to get me to recall any feelings that I have left to die
And just like the last time, now is that all I have

And when you heart wanders
Wake up from your dreams
Open up your old feelings
And that one moment with me

Maybe you’re no longer what you used to be
Maybe that feeling has faded away

And maybe one day if we were to meet again
Don’t try to get me to recall any feelings that I have left to die
And just like the last time, now is that all I have

Please don’t ask again
Keep it for yourself
All the regrets that you have
And all the pain that you gave

Peter Pan, "Mungkin Nanti", Bintang Di Surga

The Wings

2006-09-25T16:13:00.000+08:00

There are places we can't return

There are lies we have to tell

There are truths we can't deny

Trailer of Brokeback Mountain, Ang Lee (dir.), (Focus Features: USA, 2005)

Heading South, Yet Again

2006-07-23T04:34:00.000+08:00

Let's get this baby started, again.

The Oscars Post-Mortem

2006-03-06T12:51:00.000+08:00

So that's it folks! Another year and another Oscar ceremony have passed and now we wait to do this all over again.

What's so good about this year's Oscars? I would say almost everything. Love Jon Stewart, love the gowns, love the speeches, love the surprises, love the montages and the film clips.

The stage...not so much.

So anyway, it was a nice shock at the end, though I thought Crash deserved Best Director more than it deserved Best Picture. The reverse applies for Brokeback Mountain.

Okay, so I got my prediction a bit whacked out this year. But I maintain that these two films will take home the biggies of the night and that a Picture-Director split would occur. Only that I predicted it the other way. And I really feel Huffman should have won for Transamerica. She carried the entire film on her shoulders and that alone deserves an award.

Enough of my self-justification. The point is, it's over and I am pretty happy with the results. There's nothing more boring than an Oscar telecast that churns out all the expected results.

Also, Stewart was on fire - witty with excellent comedic timing. I thought he was the best host the Oscars ever had since Steve Martin.

For those of you keeping track, Crash, Brokeback, Kong and Geisha each nabbed 3 awards while everything else grabbed one.

The Cat And The Bird

2006-03-02T18:15:00.000+08:00

One day, a bird was talking to a cat.

“Where is my dick?” the bird asked.

“You don’t have a dick. You’re a female bird.”answered the cat non-chalantly.

“But why? Females should have dicks too!” snapped the bird.

“Maybe. I guess there shouldn’t be any difference between a male and female bird,”the cat answered, getting up from his rest.

With that, the cat pounced on the bird and ate it.

The end.

Oscurrrsss!!!

2006-03-01T15:56:00.000+08:00

It's less than a week to the Oscars, and analysts all over the world are predicting the winners. I predicted in the top 6 categories last year and got all right.

Here's my secret: Write down the names of the nominees on 5 pieces of paper. Put it in a bowl and pull out one.

So anyway, here are my predictions for this year:

Best Picture

Nominees:
Brokeback Mountain
Capote
Crash
Good Night, And Good Luck
Munich

Will win:
Brokeback Mountain
Yeehaw!!! This is one cowboy flick the Academy just wishes it knew how to quit. As far as this year is concerned, there is only one way, and that is heading gay.

Should win:
Brokeback Mountain
Crash is better you say? Maybe it is, but this is not about the Best Picture of the year but instead...hang on...what do you mean this category is called Best Picture?

Best Directing

Nominees:
Brokeback Mountain
Capote
Crash
Good Night, And Good Luck
Munich

Will win:
Crash
It is a great movie - but in the battle for raunchiness between racial tensions in contemporary LA and gay romance in the Southern states, there is just no beating Brokeback for Best Picture. This is the biggest category it can win.

Should win:
Brokeback Mountain
Golden Globe award - check. DGA award - check. Hang on. Didn't Ang Lee also win those two awards for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and then lost out at the Oscars?

Actor:

Philip Seymour Hoffman, Capote
Terrence Howard, Hustle & Flow
Heath Ledger, Brokeback Mountain
Joaquin Phoenix, Walk the Line
David Strathairn, Good Night, and Good Luck

Will win:
Phillip Seymour Hoffman
The best performance of the year helps a bit in winning this award. But the fact that he has won more awards than the rest of the nominees combined should do the trick. And that the fact he is way overdue.

Should win:
David Strathairn
Because it's fun watching Hilary Swank struggle to pronounce his name.

Actress:

Judi Dench, Mrs. Henderson Presents
Felicity Huffman, Transamerica
Keira Knightley, Pride & Prejudice
Charlize Theron, North Country
Reese Witherspoon, Walk the Line

Will win:
Felicity Huffman
Like I said, it is a gay year. Plus she is married to William H. Macy. Plus she is a desperate housewife.

Should win:
Felicity Huffman
Did the other nominees play gay characters? No? No competition.

Supporting Actor:

George Clooney, Syriana
Matt Dillon, Crash
Paul Giamatti, Cinderella Man
Jake Gyllenhaal, Brokeback Mountain
William Hurt, A History of Violence

Who will win:
George Clooney
He will lose out in the Writing and Directing categories, and considering he walks in with 3 nominations, he deserves ONE consolation prize.

Who should win:
George Clooney
It's George Clooney, for God's sake.

Supporting Actress:

Amy Adams, Junebug
Catherine Keener, Capote
Frances McDormand, North Country
Rachel Weisz, The Constant Gardener
Michelle Williams, Brokeback Mountain

Who will win:
Michelle Williams
Brokeback will win Best Picture, but Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal will both lose out in theirs. Brokeback needs an acting win, and this is the only category left.

Who should win:
Rachel Weisz
She gave the best performance in the bunch. If that means anything at all.

Oh, What A Day!

2006-02-01T22:35:00.000+08:00

Today I woke up feeling on top of the world.

No, not really.

Just on top of the tree, where I was, literally. And that made perfect sense because I had roosted myself on top of that tree the night before before I closed my two little eyes and fell asleep. I picked that tree for its apparent lack of crows. I hate them. They are big and ugly. And they stink, too.

Now, I have no problems with ugly birds - my best friend is a mynah and he is so ugly I bet his mother deliberately killed herself when he hatched - but all the crows I know are just obnoxious and rude.

Later on today, I was at the park wondering, firstly, when the nice old lady who always brought us food would come along and, secondly, whether she was still alive because if she had died over the weekend, then I would have spent a good 11 minutes and 3 seconds waiting there for nothing. And time is precious to me because, let's face it, life is short and I had a million and one things to do today like wooing my potential mate, it being mating season and all, and, more importantly, pooing on a random guy's new Porsche. So there I was, thinking nice little birdie thoughts, minding my own business when this crow - I swear to God, the UGLIEST crow I had ever encountered - flew and landed next to me.

He then started whining to me about his whole life story and how it was horrible and that the world should stop moving and pity him. He went on for what I thought was forever and he was about to talk about his mate who kept pestering him to bring more food but he said talking about that, and I quote, 'was like opening a whole new can of worms'.

I didn't understand him at all, obviously. I mean, we are birds and opening cans of worms is good because it means we get free food. Not that that's a big deal. All our food is free, anyway. I don't recall paying for the food I ate all my life. Nor I do recall seeing any bird carrying around a coin purse or wallet and paying for the crumbs a toddler left behind. Though I do recall those pigeons carrying a handbag. But those pigeons were flamingly gay, so it could be for their make-up and stuff instead of money.

Then I told him I needed to find a mate and flew off without him noticing, because he kept on rambling about who-knows-what.

So I flew to this little tree just around the corner and I met a little beetle. He (or she- I don't know bug anatomy. They don't seem to have genitals, but I am pretty sure they have them) was upset because he was lost and couldn't find his way home. So I asked him who he was looking for and when he realized he was lost. He then said he was looking for his mom and his nine hundred and seventy two other siblings.

I thought that was an odd number, but given his state of mind, I didn't ask because I thought it was rude. But he (again, or she) seemed to have read my mind and told me that there were initially one thousand and five of them altogether, but some were killed when an inconsiderate human being spilled some beverage into their little nest. They drowned he told me, before breaking down again. I felt so sorry for him, and I wished there was something I could do.

Then I pecked him and ate him. The poor guy, I thought.

Damn he was delicious.

So anyway, I went around the tree looking for the rest of his siblings and family members. I found out there were just on the other branch, which, of course, took me less than 10 seconds to reach since I could fly and all, but the poor bug moves 10 centimeters per minute and there was no logical way he could have found them. Yet I did, and, just like him, they were delicious.

So once my little stomach was filled, i flew to the open field in the park where dozens of my like-feathered friends had already flown to. I was late, and I was annoyed. This would mean that the good females had already been taken. Seeing the queue in front of me, I decided to just give it up and try again next year. I am kind of young to be a dad.

So I flew back to the same tree I had roosted on the night before, hoping that those ugly and disgusting crows did not get there first. Along the way, I saw the crow who was whining to me earlier trapped in a crow cage along with a few of his crow friends. I bet they were having fun. I heard those who got into those wondrous cages get sent to this lovely little home where they are fed all the time and - the best part is - each gets his or her own bird bath.

I wished they created traps for birds of my kind, I thought.

So I flew to the tree, still uninfected by crows and I roosted on my favourite branch . Then I thought, damn, I need to take a crap. So I did.

I think I heard a girl yell "eeewww disgusting!" after that, but I could be imagining things. Anyway, then I closed my eyes and slept.

The One Whose Name Starts with 'S' and Rhymes with 'aufi'

2005-12-04T12:59:00.000+08:00

A few days ago I was at the doctor's office. I love visiting the doctor. Most of the time, I end up reading those charts and posters on the wall, describing diseases I never knew existed and, thankfully, diseases no one I know has contracted. It is simply fascinating to read all these posters, although most of the time, instead of reading the descriptions, I try to figure out how to pronounce most of these words in my little brain. Sometimes these words contain about 19 letters in them, and only 3 are vowels, so that's a challenge right there. Sometimes I wonder how doctors can memorize all these words, then I realize they are, after all, doctors - smart, intellectual and sometimes nice. Non-doctors like myself could only look in awe as they pronounce these words with ease and precision, although none of us knows whether they pronounced it correctly since none of us knows how they should be pronounced to begin with.

Thankfully, doctors know that lesser men and women who are not as endowed in the brains department as they are do exist in the world, and so they give simple terms to these words so that any Tom, Dick or Harry, (preferably all at once) could use them in their daily lives. This would mean Tom, Dick or Harry (preferably all at once) could go home after their respective visits to the doctor and tell their families "hey guys, I have stomach flu" instead of "hey guys, I have Gastroenteritis".

So there I was in the doctor's waiting room, filling up a form, as it was my first visit there. I sat on a luxurious armchair, surrounded by beautiful plants that are so rare, they could only be found in a doctor's office and no where else. In one corner was the mandatory rocking horse for the children, but it was so small that only an infant could use it and infants cannot use rocking horses because they cannot even hold their heads up, yet alone their entire bodies. Plus, infants don't think that being on a rocking horse in fun and time well spent. At least I didn't when I was an infant. But then again those were simpler times, when it was fun not being dropped by a random relative who attempted to hold me.

But anyway, the rocking horse was there together with those little building blocks with letters of the alphabets on them so that the children could spell different words while waiting. The children at the doctor's office didn't care too much about them and I think it is because the things they can spell are limited to things that do not have any repetition of letters, because the blocks only had one of each letter. So words like "baby" or "book" or "mom" or "dad", cannot be spelt, which is a pity, because these should be the first things a child should learn to spell with those blocks. And besides, what is waiting to a child? I think the main occupation of children is waiting - waiting to be fed, to be changed, to be vaccinated, to grow up etc. etc. - so I really doubt the fifteen minutes of waiting at the doctor's office has any implications on their overall development whatsoever. But then again, it was the doctor who placed those toys there, and he (or she) is, after all, a doctor so I guess he or she had it all calculated and decided that yes, those fifteen minutes of waiting in the office could be better used.

So back to the form. After filling all the mandatory fields up, I was asked for my previous employment and work experience. I thought it was strange, but rationalized it by thinking that perhaps the doctor wanted to know me better and what better way to know me than to know my professional background. I sat there thinking and in the first row, I inserted "Private Investigator (Trainee)".

Yes, I was a trainee private investigator for a firm whose name I am obliged not to reveal. I was there for, say, 4 months - 2 months of training and 2 more months of practice, before the new school semester beckoned and I had to leave the job. I had left with the rank 'Trainee' because I hadn't completed the required 6-month practice, which had to be completed in one shot. This had always been strictly enforced, the Japanese geisha who was employed as the chief clerk told me. When I asked her why, she just closed her eyes, covered her mouth with her hand fan and softly giggled to herself. She was sweet.

However, despite the non-completion of the 6-month practice, I was given a code name. I was called "The One Whose Name Starts with S and Rhymes with Aufi". It was given to me by my supervisor and mentor, because it was customary for one's supervisor and mentor to pick a code name for the trainee. This tradition, I was told, dated back to the 6th century A.D.. I wanted to do more research on this, but neither had the time nor motivation to do so, but I do know that this tradition was started around the same time as the tradition that dictates hookers are not to be emotionally involved with their clients. This later tradition, however, was abolished with a precedent known as the "Pretty Woman Act of 1991" passed by the Supreme Court of the United States. Our tradition is retained until today.

On my first assignment as a fresh trainee, I had the help of my imaginary cat, which I named Kat, short for Katherine. It didn't go as well as I had expected because every time I called him 'Kat' or 'Katherine' he would turn around, lift his tail and show me his majestic testicles. I think he was trying to drive at a point but I didn't have time to figure out what it was because soon after the first assignment was completed, he was knocked down by an imaginary bus and was declared dead immediately by the imaginary vultures that started feeding on his remains. I still miss him from time to time, and sometimes I can still feel his presence, especially when random cats I encounter on the streets start to attack me.

Anyway, I only had time for one assignment, because each assignment normally lasts two months. There were exceptions though, and there had been cases that dragged on for years, especially those that required PIs to track down the movements of celebrities to see whether they are indeed, as rumour had it, gay. These celebrities can be nifty people and can hide their actions well, often using the "I'm kissing a member of the same gender so that I can be better prepared for my upcoming role" reason. There is no way any PI can beat that.

Others were shorter, sometimes as short as 2 minutes after the case had been opened, but this is rare and often based on technicality. The only time it happened was back in 1974, when a man wanted a PI to check if his wife were cheating on him. Once the chief clerk (a different geisha from the one mentioned earlier) opened the file for the man, he was escorted to the PI's office where he saw his wife making out with the PI. The total time between the opening of the file and reaching the PI's office was about two minutes, making it the shortest opened case ever.

As I sat there, I thought about my assignment, and realized I could still remember it vividly, as though I had just watched it on TV a few days back. Then I realized that I had watched it on CSI a few days back. It was amazing because I never thought my case was that important as to be made into an episode of perhaps the best show on television after the Amazing Race and Sesame Street. Suddenly I realized that many shows were based on my one sole assignment during my stint as a PI, albeit a trainee. An episode on Fear Factor the other day had contestants swimming in a pool full of rats. I clearly remember doing that, only that I didn't swim in a a swimming pool and instead of rats, I had to swim amongst a whole bunch of old and sagging people. It was nice thinking about it, but the experience was horrible. Perhaps the producers knew the atrocity of the act and decided that no amount of money can ever justify it and hence decided to replace the old and sagging people with rats instead. It's amazing how most shows were actually based on actual happenings. I would really like to meet the family whose lives America's Next Top Model was based upon.

I wanted to write more, but the receptionist was already calling out for me. As I walked up to her to pass her the form, I could easily recognize the small eyes and flawless skin immediately - it was the geisha from the PI firm I was working for! She looked up with the beautiful eyes, and I asked her whether he had met before. Then she closed her eyes, covered her small mouth with my form and giggled softly to herself.

My Twin Brother

2005-11-26T19:33:00.000+08:00

The other day a stranger walked up to me and said hi. I had never met him before, which makes sense, since he is, after all, a stranger. I would very much like to call him a perfect stranger but there apparently was nothing perfect about him. His hair was in a mess. I know some guys who adopt that messy, out-of-bed look, but this guy had a road-kill on his head. He didn't have perfect skin either and if there were a contest for the most number of pimples one had on one's face, he would win hands down. Also, his face was very shiny and it was only a matter of time before Bush declares war on him for the oil. I could go on, but the conversation didn't last long enough for me to notice every single imperfect thing about him, although I do have to comment on a stench that I smelt as we walked near, but I cannot say for sure whether it was him or the road-kill that was rotting away on his head.

But anyway, this stranger said hi, as mentioned, and I asked who he was. He said we had met before but I denied it at once, claiming that if we had met before, I would have surely remembered because I don't generally meet a lot of hideous people everyday. Okay, I do, but I also see a lot of animals everyday, so I often mix the two up. I can't really tell the difference. He apologized almost immediately and did an about-turn and walked off to a girl who was waiting a few meters away where they held hands and walked off happily together into the sunset.

That incident got me thinking. Questions ran through my head at lightning speed, and the reason I know it was at lightning speed is at that exact moment, a lightning flashed across the sky and as it flashed, a grand total of 6 questions ran past me. Why did he claim he had met me before? Am I suffering from amnesia like that guy from Memento and cannot form new memories of people I have met? Didn't I read somewhere that the guy didn't really suffer from amnesia but another disorder altogether? Isn't that my bus that is leaving the station? Did I just miss it? Did the lightning strike the stranger?

The seventh question was already forming in my head, but the lightning disappeared before i could make sense of it, so that didn't count. But it had something to do with transvestites who wear very little.

So anyway, there I was pondering over what I called the "Lightning Questions", feeling proud of myself for coming up with such a brilliant name for the string of questions when it suddenly hits me. I want to say 'it' was the lightning, but that would mean I would be either dead or in hospital right now, which would in turn mean I could not have possibly published this post. So I knew that what hit me were answers.

No, I had never met him prior to that incident. No I do not suffer from amnesia or the Memento disease, because I could clearly remember walking into a gents' toilet in school and seeing an overflown urinal as though it were one day ago; and that incident only took place less than half an hour before that. My memory is okay, I said to myself. Yes, that was my bus that had left the station, and yes, I had missed it. And finally, no, the lightning didn't strike my new-found stranger because a few seconds later I saw him waltzing back in front of me non-chalantly, still with the same lady. He didn't even seem to notice I was there. Maybe it was him who was suffering from that disease.

Then the ultimate hit came: he must have met my twin brother!

Yes, I do have a twin brother. He is someone who I look up to in many, many ways. He is courageous, smart, handsome,rich and all the other things I could only wish I were. The best thing is that he pushes me to the very limit, literally. Once we were in a make-belief country called Canada and we decided to try bun-gee jumping. I had to go first but I was scared because if the rope snapped, it would be a very long fall and it would take forever to reach the bottom, which would mean that I would miss the 730 show that aired everyday on the local network. I remember being fond of the show, which involved a dysfunctional family where everyone cheated on everyone else. The series finale was to be shown that very day, and I heard that it involved a member of the family being devoured by a dog that had rabies and another family member having to go for a heart by-pass but the hospital got the diagnosis mixed up and performed a sex-change operation instead. We can never get this kind of shows in Singapore.

So anyway, there I was standing at the edge of the cliff when suddenly my twin came up behind me, yelled "loser" and promptly pushed me down. I remember cursing him as I fell, but it felt good, and I was glad he was there to push me.

My twin amazes me with his enigmatic ways. We couldn't really get along very well, so I keep any contact with him to the bare minimum. But he always shows up whenever I seem to need him the most, and he always seems to know when exactly I need him the most. He had never been late nor early. Okay, maybe once, but he told me that he had to help an old woman cross the road on his way and she insisted that she gave him some money as a token of appreciation. The funny thing was that old woman didn't have any money, so he had to wait while she begged passers-by for some money to give him. He had to wait a good four hours before a nice passer-by dropped 13 cents into her palms, which isn't really that bad for an old woman around the age of 90 who was clearly missing one leg, could possibly be homeless and was obviously blind in one eye. But that was a noble and majestic reason, so I was more than willing to overlook it. Apart from that, he was always on time.

I remember all the bad times I went through and the fact that he was there for me through all of them. Times like when one of my pet turtles died of an unknown venereal disease - I was extremely upset because I had trained the turtle for more than a year for a competition that required him escape from a pot of boiling water. He was doing so well, I was confident he would have won. But my twin brother comforted my and said that I have tried my best, which I did, considering the amount of water I had to boil so that Nina - that was what I named my turtle - could train. He said I could get another turtle and train that one again, and this time I would be better at it because I would have known of the things that I should avoid to prevent it from getting VD. It really made me feel better, and I got up, more determined than ever, and subsequently bought Angie, the new turtle. She (or was it a he?) won the competition hands down by escaping from the pot of boiling water in 45 seconds flat. As the winner, she was then made the key ingredient for a special meal prepared by the leading chef of Singapore. I was so proud of her. I hear being served in a dish prepared by Chef Eelay is a dream every turtle desired.

Those are just some examples of the ways that my twin brother helped me face life. He has left now. He told me he needed to write a book for blind children and then teach them to read it through a special method of reading that he had just invented. I am so proud of him. And I love him, like I love my very own brother.

Saufi's World

2005-11-25T10:11:00.000+08:00

Half of those who read my blog often ask me, "Saufi, I think you are nuts."

I realize now that isn't a question at all. It's more of a statement. Okay, not 'more of'. It is, in fact, a full, grammatically correct sentence, although one made up of a questionable choice of words. I know that is the sentiment of half of my readers, because I received an email yesterday. Yes, only one, which constitutes half of my readers, because only two people read my blog.

The first person is me, because I like to make sure that my posts look presentable once I hit the "publish" button, and the second is La Winda, because I forced her to. I know for sure it couldn't be me who sent that email because I rarely send an email to myself. I said 'rarely' because I have sent out emails to myself in the past. Twice, in fact. Once was to remind myself that I had spilled coffee on my bed the night before when I was up studying on the bed for a paper the following day and that I needed to change the bed-sheet. The other was to say to remind myself of the combination number to the safe that was housing secret codes to a high-security covert operation that I was devising that involved the use of penguins, porcupines and pygmies from the neighboring island of Sumatra.

That operation, in case you're wondering, failed because the pygmies couldn't wake up in time, because the roosters they depended on to wake them up had been slaughtered the day before for some festival that involved the pygmies dancing naked with snakes at their feet. The energy generators couldn't work without them because it needed live pygmies thrown in as fuel before it could generate any electricity. This unleashed a whole thread of unexpected chained reaction.

First it disabled a protocol mechanism from poking some rare, yet highly trained, penguins in the back. Subsequently, without anything poking their backs, the penguins didn't give their distress call, which was intended to wake the porcupines up. The plan was for the porcupines to wake up, annoyed due to lack of sleep, because I had only put them to bed half an hour before that, and march to my neighbor's place and poke everyone with their thorns. My neighbors were playing mah-jong the whole night for the past few weeks and it irritated me so much that I had to do something about it. The porcupine idea was a fabulous one because they might think that it was the noise generated by the mah-jong players that had awoken them and hence take revenge by poking the daylights out of my neighbors. In such pain, my neighbors will surely need to be hospitalized for a day or two, giving me, firstly, some peace of mind at night when I am counting the number of goldfish I have left (8 at last count) and, more importantly, time in scheming out ways to get them hospitalized again after they return.

So I assumed the email was sent by La Winda, because she is the only other person who reads this blog. I didn't recognize the email address either, and it didn't look like La Winda's. Then again, she might have created a new one especially for sending me an email.

Then I considered the possibility of the email being sent by someone other than La Winda. This consideration of the possibility came much later, say a week or so, because calculating probabilities is a tedious and daunting task. First you have to take the number of days divided by the number of posts multiplied by the square of my age three years ago and then add this whole sum to the number of people I am dating or something like that. I am not too sure, but I am in the midst of checking on this. So anyway, if it were someone else who sent me that email, that would mean that three people had read my blog, and hence I would be wrong in the first instance when I said that half of the readers ask me questions. Half of three is 1 and a half, and unless one was born without an upper or lower torso, there is no such thing as half a person. That would throw my calculations as well as my monitor of the number of people reading my blog totally out of whack.(Note that you need to be born without either an upper or lower torso to be half a person. If you were born without both, that would make you a zero person, which is not the case here. I once knew a person who was born without an upper and lower torso but I didn't get the chance to get to know the person better because that person had no mouth nor ears that are essential to establishing an effective communication).

So I hired a team of experts to dig into the mystery so i could find a peace of mind to do chores that really mattered, such as watching my bougainvillea plant grow or waiting for my two male clown fish to procreate. I had full trust in this team of experts. It has a good reputation. Once, my uncle discovered that a whole roll of cheese was missing from his refrigerator and he hired this team and they cracked down the mystery in less than 4 years. They discovered that it was actually my uncle who had unwittingly eaten the cheese and, thinking it was a bunt cake that has gone bad, threw the entire thing away. My uncle never forgave himself for doing that, and he is still in therapy now. He is making excellent progress, although he does lose sleep once in a while and wouldn't touch anything dairy. But the point is, the team that I have hired is THAT good.

I have not asked La Winda whether it was her, but I assume that it was not, until proven otherwise by the team of experts. This mysterious author did not sign off with his or her name at the end of the email, which is a real pity. I really do have a soft spots for those who were not given any names. Imagine the hardship that these people will face as they are growing up nameless. In school, teachers would not address or acknowledge them because there is no way that they can be acknowledged or addressed. They cannot get married, or apply for a passport, or fill up any forms for that matter because all the spaces in these forms need to be filled up, and with a blank in the "name" field, the form is disqualified. The list goes on. Why parents would do this to their children is something I will never understand. I think that there ought to be some law against such acts, where parents, if they failed to name their child or children, would be sent to a not-so-distant place where they will be doomed to teach monkeys how to operate the DVD player and clean homes so that we can rely on them for our housekeeping needs instead of foreign workers.

I have since replied the email, and the following is a copy of what I wrote:

Dear anonymous (or person without a name),

I would like to thank you for firstly reading my blog and sending me that email. As a gesture of my appreciation, I have attached a digitally signed cheque for one million (1,000,000) Singapore dollars, just for you. Do, however, expect the cheque to bounce, because I do not really have a million dollars to give anyone. But I do sincerely hope the gesture makes you happy.

Thank you, once again, and do drop me an email whenever you are free. I love receiving emails, and I rarely fail to reply them if they reach my inbox. Do refrain from putting "XXX" or "FREE PORN" or "SALE" in the title of the email, because my email program will immediately direct it to the junk folder and i will never be able to read it. That would mean we will not be having any contact, and that will greatly upset me.

Yours Sincerely,
Saufi

That was a few days ago, and I am still waiting for a reply. I do hope the reply comes soon. Maybe I'll have him or her as an e-pen-pal. I never had any of those. I thought I had once but it turned out it was my lecturer who had consistently emailed me, reminding me to attend class and hand in my work. I was pretty disappointed by that. I really thought I had a nice, sincere and caring e-pen-pal who cared for me enough to make sure that I was diligent in my work.

So now, I sit and wait for the reply to come. And for the team of experts to notify me of its findings. Obviously, I would hope that it found out that there is indeed a third person involved, which hence makes the anonymous and now mysterious emailer a real person, instead of La Winda. I can imagine what it would be like if it were a real person, and he or she only maintained contact via email. I could write a whole book on our correspondence, chronicling our discussions, just like that little bitch, Sophie.

I would call it Saufi's World. That's a bestseller right there.

When I Was Younger

2005-11-23T00:51:00.000+08:00

Some people say that we get wiser as we grow older. I have never personally met these people, and so cannot be too certain who they are, but I am pretty sure they are the same people who said that Singapore is the city that never sleeps. I, for one, think that is true, though. Singapore is a city that never sleeps. Things happen all the time, and at every single hour. Not just things, but eventful happenings. Happenings that change people's lives. I cannot really sustain that, but I am quite sure I read it somewhere. But essentially, this city never ceases to bustle with activities, 24/7.

I just wish I knew what they are, because I, for one, am not a person who never sleeps. I sleep a lot, and I think many signs are telling me that, as a growing person who just celebrated his 18th birthday 5 years ago, I need as much sleep as I can get. These signs are everywhere. Just today, when I got up to go to school, Mother Nature (who can sometimes be a bitch, together with Lady Luck, but that's a whole new can of worms, one that I will open soon enough) gave me a clear sign that she didn't want me to get out of bed by pouring a whole load of rain onto otherwise sunny Singapore, as well as sending cooling winds to complement the rain. These just yelled "STAY IN BED!!!" and I, being the obedient follower of signs, especially after reading Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist, decided to follow them. My mom also gave me signs that she, too, would like me to stay in bed as much as possible by providing me with a nice, comfortable bed, complete with a warm yet cooling (paradoxical, I know) comforter.

My mom has always insisted that I stay in bed as much as possible since it helps in my development and growth since I was a baby. That was many, many years ago of course, when i was younger, which, coincidentally, is the topic of this post. Sleep is a very important factor in our development, but even without sleep, I guess we all change through the years, for the best and, in most cases, for the worse.

When I was younger, I used to think that babies were delivered through the belly button. I thought belly buttons would expand after the 9 months of gestation or pregnancy, as some would fiercely and violently remind you (and by violently, I mean holding you up 2 feet into the air by your neck), and the baby would just come out through it. It was only much later, say 6 or even seven years, did I realized that was untrue. Then, I thought babies were delivered through the anus, which would, in a fashion similar to how I thought belly buttons operated to deliver babies, expand to let the babies out. About seven or so years later, I realized that was untrue as well, and this time I was told by my teachers or friends or some documentary I watched or an article I read that babies are delivered through the vagina. However, I was right in certain aspects, especially the part where the vagina, or, as I termed it, the "release point", expands after the end of the gestation or pregnancy to allow the baby to be released into the world. I have never personally seen this happening, but I have checked with real women who had really given birth (I asked for their children, just to be sure) and they confirmed that it was true. Such knowledge could only come with age, I told myself, and I was proud to learn something so dramatic after just 14 years. Some people take a lifetime to learn about these things.

So I guess the adage is true, we do get wiser as we get older. Some people however, just get wiser, without growing older. I am amazed at how some people can remain at the age of 18 their entire lives. For example, I have a friend whom I met 10 years ago when she was 14 (which would make her 24 now) but she told me she is still 18. I always ask myself what their secret is, and wonder if I could remain 18 until the day I die as well. Then there are some who get older, but not wiser. I don't really know anyone from this group, so I cannot really comment, although I have met some who, at the age of 30 or even older, are still studying in the same institution as people as young as 19. They claim their profession involves them studying and that they are doing research on this or on that, but I do not believe anyone who puts a 'Dr.' in front of their names and cannot tell the difference between a common cold and a stomach ache. These are basics any doctor should know.

Me, I choose to think that I have grown wiser through the years, although I did spend 10 minutes today looking for my cellphone when all the while I was actually talking on it. The other day I was waiting to cross the road at the pedestrian crossing and I pressed the button 9 times because by doing so, the traffic signals would change in my favour 9 times faster. I guess we sometimes do things that escape our conscience. Okay, all the times, but that doesn't mean we are not wise. It just means that for that moment of un-wiseness, our brains cease to function and we a become victims of circumstances. No, I cannot confirm on that either, although I am definitely sure I read it somewhere this time.

The Art Of Eavesdropping

2005-11-21T12:17:00.000+08:00

The other day, I was on the train on my way to Nairobi (where school is) and I overheard a conversation between two girls. I would very much like to call them bimbos, but I define a bimbo as a female who is the stupidest creature ever to roam the face of the earth but whose beauty (socially constructed, of course) is above average such that society (yes, the same society that constructed the idea of 'beauty') is willing to overlook the fact that she apparently has no brains (or any organ that is used for thinking, for that matter).

This, obviously, is a stereotype. This inability to look good and be smart at the same time is not a phenomenon distinct only to those of the female persuasion. It exists in the community of the male persuasion as well. I think the word used to describe this latter group of rejects is 'himbo'. (I am not too sure, though. I will need to check this up.)

Anyway, back to the definition being a stereotype. There is also a group of individuals (regardless of sexual persuasion) whose members are born with an organ that is typically used for processing thoughts, usually termed as a 'brain', and, at the same time, are not unfortunate-looking. Now, many believe that this species had died out during the pleistocene age. While a great majority of this species in fact did die out during that said era, the rest has survived, just like cockroaches and Cher, and has evolved through time and many repeated attempts to wipe them off the face of the earth (examples include the Black Death, the Plague, The Fire Of Britain, World War I and II, the Holocaust, the atomic bombings and the Chernobyl disaster). The resilience of this species is awe worthy, and it is due to this resilience that they survive today, much to the disappointment, anger and frustration of their distant and not-as-asthetically-pleasing-looking cousins, or what we call the rest of the human population.

On the other side of the spectrum are rejects that are ferociously ungoodlooking and cannot think to save their lives. However, through modern education and heavy indoctrination by the media, these rejects are elevated to one of two levels, one higher than the other. At the higher level, induced by education, they develop the ability to utilize their 'brains' and hence are socialized into the rest of society, where they eventually reach the status of 'human' or 'a member of the human race'.

On the other, albeit lower level, brought about by heavy indoctrination by the media, they are typically seen as the 'underdogs' of society. Society, in turn, becomes extremely wary of them, in case they were to suddenly spring out of nowhere and defeat the rest of the human population. At this lower level, these rejects, unfortunately, do not reach the status of 'human' or 'a member of the human race'. However, they are accorded a status slightly higher than that of animals. This thinking has perpetuated up to this day, and to remind society of the fact that these individuals do not belong to the human race, animal titles, often with an adjective attached in front, are fixed upon them. Examples of such titles include 'dark horse', 'black sheep' and, as used earlier, 'under dogs'.

Notice how different animals are used at each example. This is important because these rejects pose different threats to the human population, and the different terms serve to warn the later population of the imminent danger that they pose. Also note that the list of titles is not exhaustive, and new ones are created every single second of every single minute of every single hour of every single day or every single week of every single month of every single year. This only emphasizes the threat that these rejects pose, and how determined the human population is to eradicate them completely by taking the softer approach - labeling.

To me, labeling as a means to eradicate them is ludicrous, because these rejects are in the lowest category because of their lack of a 'brain'. Hence I doubt that these titles fixed upon them in the hope of bringing them down will have any effect, due of their sheer inability to process these innuendoes. Also, associating poor, innocent animals with them is a clear violation of animal rights and organizations like the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals are established for this very reason.

These classifications are important for reasons that are beyond me. However, let us review what has been discussed before proceeding. On top of the pack are those who are both aesthetically pleasing to the eye and in possession of a brain. Next comes those who are in a possession of an organ capable of processing thoughts but are not much to look at. Next comes those who are winsome looks-wise but fare very little elsewhere, especially in the smartishness department. At the bottom are those rejects who are neither smart nor good-looking. We also discussed that in the contemporary context, sexual persuasions are magically erased, and members can come be of any of three sexual persuasions.

With that, I would like to move on to the actual topic of this posting, but since I have ran out of time, that shall have to wait till tomorrow, or whenever I am free to post a message.

The Vegetarian Bird and the Worm

2005-11-19T23:45:00.000+08:00

I had to go to school early today - about 8 or 9 in the morning, even though my paper was at one in the afternoon, to do some last minute revision. Okay, actually, to study at the last minute. I realize you can only 'revise' things you have previously already studied. But I am opening up the files and downloading notes and stuff for the first time, so I am pretty sure the term 'revision' or its derivations are inapplicable.

I met a professor on my way to my usual, and he asked me how I was, and asked whether I had a paper at 9. I said, no, and that I was in school to revise...er...study. He then remarked, "That's good! The early bird catches the worm!" before waving his arms, jumping about frantically for a good 10 seconds and finally disappearing into thin air.

Okay, he didn't really do that. I watched that sequence on a television show the night before, and thought it would be awesome if he emulated it.

I got myself wondering. The early bird catches the worm? I know I have heard that saying before, but that was when I was in primary school and when everything made no sense. Nothing makes sense now, but somehow, I knew that saying was wrong.

Sure, the bird wakes up early to find worms. What if the worm refuses to wake up early as well? What will the bird catch then?

Or, what if the bird weren't hungry? I guess it could still catch the worm and save it for a later time, but if the bird is anything like me, it will like its worm fresh. I especially like those that are still wriggling and red.

Oh, and what if the bird has recently become a vegetarian? Worms are animals, and it is a big no-no to the bird. Not much point in catching one, is there?

I guess some sayings are simply used over time and space such that their actual meanings lose their relevance. Some of them makes no sense whatsoever.

Remember the saying "a leopard never change its spot"? (On a side note, why not a cheetah, or a ladybird, or any animal that has spots. Why not use any of these animals? Why a leopard? )Anyway, we do have plastic surgery now and didn't you watch that TVC that aired donkey years ago where the cleaning agent they were advertising was so powerful it could remove spots from a leopard (or cheetah, or ladybird, or any animal that has spots)?

Sometimes people tell me that I have probably got out the wrong side of the bed. My bed is against the wall, and there is only one possible way to get out of it. If this is the wrong side they were talking about, how can that side be wrong today and the right side tomorrow?

Speaking about donkey years, what are they? Do donkeys even count the days that go by? Do they form some sort of formulations to calculate how many days constitute a 'donkey' year? Did they form a union to decide on the holidays and union day? And if they did, how did they tell humans, most of whom don't speak donkey language, about this new calendar?

Someone also commented that sometimes I drink like a fish. What they meant was that i drink a lot of water I think. Now, fishes don't really drink a lot. If they did, the tank in which they live will need to be filled with water constantly.

Hmmm...maybe there is some truth in this saying. Maybe fishes do drink a lot, but, just like the human body, most of this water passes out as pee. So the process of drinking and peeing for fishes is a dynamic once. That would mean fishes swim in their own pee and then drink it too. That's just sick.

Things Distant Family Members Should Not Say To Me During Hari Raya

2005-11-19T23:09:00.000+08:00

This comes a bit late. It being late has largely to do with the fact that I am by nature slow, and tend to react to situations much later, only to find that my opinions and reactions came too late. Then I will take some more time to get pissed, only to realize that a year had passed. The other day I was watching a comedy and didn't catch a single joke while everyone else laughed hysterically. I was still waiting for the subtitles because I thought the show was in German, a language I do not understand. It was only, say, three hours later that I realized it was in French. I knew some of the words sounded familiar. I finally found those lessons at MOELC during secondary school useful, after all. After seven years, which is some sort of personal record. I have to check on this.

A secondary, yet significant, reason for this coming in late is because I had hoped it would stop. After more than two weeks since Hari Raya, I am still affected by this. Obviously I had given up hope. And thus, this entry.

Here are some things you should never ask or say to me when you see me during Hari Raya, be it when I am visiting you, when you are visiting me, when we randomly meet in the streets or when we bump into each other in a public toilet.

1.        "Wah! You're so big now!"

Yes, people do get bigger as they grow older. It is a scientifically proven fact. Did you really expect me to stay that small my whole life? Why would you expect that? That would mean I have some kind of disorder which stops my normal growth. And if I had that, that means it exists in my genes. And since you are related to me somehow, it might be in yours too. Now, why would you want these kinds of genes in you? Why? WHY?

2.        "Eh so old already. When getting married, ah?"

I am still studying, I have no real income of my own, and I still depend on dearest mommy and daddy for my basic necessities from my Crumpler bag to my iPod. Do you really think I want to share all that with someone else right now?

3.        "Eh my son/daughter got his/her driving license already. You not getting yours, ah?"

Why, as a matter of fact, I am getting mine. And pretty soon too. However, since I see you only once a year, the likelihood of me driving you around once I get it is very small, so I don't see how my having a license affects you in any possible way.

4.        "You're still studying? So old still studying? You started late, ah?"

No, I started on time, even though I did drop out of nursery, and thanks for bringing such a painful memory back. When I was four, my wee-wee got stuck in a drawer. Would you like to remind me of that as well?

5.        "Eh, when you want to introduce us to your girlfriend? Pretty or not?"

When I find one, I am sure she will want to meet you, even though I
(a) see you once a year for a grand total of 14 minutes, inclusive of toilet breaks that last for 11 minutes,
(b) have no idea how we are related but since you called my mom "sister", I will just assume we are in some freakish way, and
(c) have no idea what your name is, and couldn't be bothered to find out because I know I'll never bother myself to remember it.

6.        "Eh you know, your Aunty <Insert random name here>'s son/daughter just got her <insert random high qualification/promotion at work/any other great personal achievement here>. He/She is doing really well you know! So proud of her! Cannot believe I have someone like that in my family. When are you going to achieve such things?"

If you like him/her so much, adopt him/her.

7.        "You're not much to look at. I hope you have some talent."

As a matter of fact, I do have one. When I get mad at the bus driver for driving too slowly, I jump on his laps and pee all over the dashboard and I do so with an accuracy Tiger Woods will admire. Now that's talent. Now, what might YOURS be?

My Dad Is Like A Father To Me

2005-11-18T23:01:00.000+08:00

After reading La Winda's blog, I was reminded of my dad, who was comfortably seated in the living room at the point of writing, watching TV. In every way, he is like a father to me.

I remember back in the year 2000. I was in my second year of junior college, and it was the first school day of the year. I guess it must have been the 2nd of January, but I don't have a calendar with me right now, so I might be wrong. 2nd January 2000 might have been a Saturday or Sunday, in which cases, this would have happened on either the 3rd or 4th of January, because it would be the next school day.

Where was I?

Oh yes, the first day of school in the year 2000. Now, I was running late, so I asked my dad for a lift to school. He said yes, which surprised me because he never said yes before. He had never sent me to school prior to that, from nursery (from which I dropped out, but that's a whole new can of worms) to secondary school. I thought it was my lucky day!

So there I was in the car, in my junior college uniform (with the collar badge, if you really must know), getting all excited to see my friends...er...schoolmates again. Now, my dad took a route I didn't normally take to get to school when I took a cab, but I figured that he must have known of a shortcut or something. Daddy is good at shortcuts. Okay, not really. Okay, not at all. He got lost driving my mum to Loyang Point, which was just down the road, once.

Anyway, then I saw my secondary school, and I was reminded of the good days there. I was reminiscing the good days when suddenly the car stopped, and my dad said "Ok, here you are."

I looked at him and said, "Daddy, I don't study here anymore. I'm studying at Temasek Junior College now. And I've been studying there for a year already."

Of course I spoke in Malay. Daddy doesn't really converse well in English. He tries to though, and it always cracks me up. My daddy is one funny guy.

So anyway, I got to school in the end, on time.

My dad is always full of crazy antics like that. Much like La Winda's dad. The funny thing is, coincidentally, yesterday my dad knocked on my door and when I opened it he asked, "Eh, are you in NUS or NTU?".

Now I find it strange that La Winda's dad had an almost identical conversation with her the day before. Maybe it has something to do with the fact we were in the same class for a good 14 years. Oh, it was almost identical, because the conversation between daddy and me ended immediately after that.

Some People Are Just Luckier I Suppose

2005-11-18T22:44:00.000+08:00

Sometimes, I feel sorry for my team mates. I mean, they go through so much!

For example, I asked one of them for his section for the essay a few days ago. His section, by the way, was supposed to be sent to me three days before that. But he didn't so I took the initiative to call him and ask him for it.

He told me he is in the midst of doing it. He told me the hadn't finished because he had been very busy lately and had an essay due the next day.

Now, I feel sorry for him. Because I'm sure none of the other team members had essays to be handed in. Come to think about it, I don't think any of the other team members had any commitment related to work or school either. In mean, let's face it. The rest of us have, what? 36? 48? 60? hours per day. Maybe more. The poor guy only has 24, and he has to use that to do all his work and personal chores. Life is so unfair to him!

Anyway, so I asked when I might be able to get it. He answered that he would only be able to get it ready two days later, because the following day happened to be his girlfriend's birthday.

Now, suddenly I admire him. How he prioritized his work! I mean, it was amazing! It was clear and defined. The rest of us should learn from him. We are all pushing back spending time with loved ones, missing meals with family and cutting ourselves from the rest of civilization, all because of a stupid thing called "team project" and that horrid, horrid thing called "deadline". We should learn a thing or two from him - personal commitments should come first. Screw work! Our team mates will be so amazed at our ability to prioritize that they'd put a stop to the project effort and admire us. Now, that's awesome!

Oh well, but I don't get that luxury. I wish I knew what it was like having only 24 hours per day, and using that to juggle all the chores. I guess it is something only he will experience.

Poor guy.

A Question Of Astronomical Importance Which If Left Unanswered Will Bring Forth Untold Vitiation To The Social Fabric Upon Which Our Very Lives Depend

2005-11-11T07:52:00.000+08:00

Whatever happened to James Lye, anyway?

Pissiness Errata

2005-11-09T23:49:00.000+08:00

A few days ago I wrote that it wasn't me who peed in class when I was 5 but it was Winda.

La Winda has duly informed yours truly that it is not true because we only knew each other at the tender (and now illusive) age of 7 and hence it was impossible for me to know that she peed in class back then.

But I do remember someone peeing in class back in kindergarten, because I vividly remember sitting cross legged on the floor paying full attention to the teacher when suddenly i felt warm liquid running across my little ass (it was mighty little back then and it still is now). I also remember not getting up immediately (I was quite slow back then and am still quite slow now) but played with the pool of pe by splashing it around with my little hands.

So if you happen to be the person whose pee I played with, do let me know.

Things That I Am Thankful For

2005-11-09T23:26:00.000+08:00

1.        TV Mobile

Because I love motion sickness and nothing induces it more than choppy television transmission featuring crappy shows like Diva On A Dime and cheesy commercials.

2.        Cheesy Commercials

Because they educate me. Never did I realize that touching someone's hair could make them feel loved, that my skin goes 'BOINK BOINK' when it is really youthful and energetic and that special milk powder is the secret to making an Einstein.

3.        Good friends

Especially the ones who say 'be careful' immediately after you trip and fall or 'watch out' just after you step on dog poo instead of before you trip or step on shit. They really care for me. Retrospectively.

4.        Weddings

Because they remind me of the day I'll never have.

5.        Lizards and rats

Because they are ugly, slimy and disgusting. But most importantly, because they remind me of myself.

Diva On A Dime

2005-11-09T01:01:00.000+08:00

Each time I get up the bus from Timbuktu (where school is) to head home, for some strange reason, TV Mobile is always showing Diva On A Dime. It is amusing at first, but annoying as the weeks went by.

I remember vividly watching an episode as though it was only a few weeks ago. Okay, it was actually a few weeks ago.

Anyway, they were giving a big, fat black woman a complete makeover and, at the same time, giving make-up tips for the cosmetically challenged.

She ended up looking like Ursula from The Little Mermaid. You know, the one with the tentacles?

I find it fascinating at times. There they are, teaching people how to enjoy life with whatever little money they have, yet they drive a not-so-cheap and non-economical Mini Cooper. It's like preaching Marxism in a Prada haute couture.

Penny wise pound foolish, indeed.

Days Like This

2005-11-08T08:10:00.000+08:00

Grittiness.

No idea why though.

Maybe it is the truckload of coffee I have been consuming. Maybe it is the heartburn pills I took yesterday, Maybe it is the poh chai I took on Saturday.

I guess we all have to get through days like this.

I Try

2005-11-08T08:00:00.000+08:00

Games, changes and fears
When will they go from here?
When will they stop?
I believe that fate has brought us here
And we should be together, babe
But we're not

I play it off but I'm dreamin of you
I'll keep my cool but I'm fiendin'

I try to say goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
Goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near

I may appear to be free
But I'm just a prisoner of your love
I may seem alright and smile when you leave
But my smiles are just a front

I play it off but I'm dreamin of you
I'll keep my cool but I'm fiendin

I try to say goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near

Here is my confession
May I be your possesion
Boy I need your touch
Your love kisses and such
With all my might I try
But this I can't deny

I play it off but im dreamin of you
I'll keep my cool but I'm fiendin

I try to say good bye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near

Because I'm worth it

2005-11-06T21:25:00.000+08:00

I went for a mini shopping spree just now. I had ran out of facial cleanser, toner and the sorts. Well, I had ran out of them for a few weeks now, but I was broke so I had to settle for whatever beauty products my sister uses and leaves in the common bathroom. But today, since I do have some dollars to spare, I decided to buy my very own set.

Whatever the case, the trip down wasn't as exciting as I imagined it would be. My stomach was still painful from yesterday. Come to think of it, I don't really know what it was. All I know was that there seemed to be a lot of air, and apparently, two bottles of poh chai did not help. But it got better after I ate a medium sized fries and a chicken burger from school. Oh, and sleep definitely helped.

Anyway. so the pain was still there when I went to the shop, about 200m from where I stay. Taking a bus didn't really seem like a bad idea, but it would mean that I would be alighting only one stop later. I also needed to smoke, so that means I would have to smoke first before waiting for the bus. That or waiting until the bus came and smoked before I entered the shopping centre. Hmmm...

So anyway, I decided to walk and have a bit of exercise. Boy, I felt refreshed after that. It was a good walk, the bulk of it uphill. I can imagine the workout my heart and legs got. And the evening breeze from wherever evening breezes come from. And all this with a cigarette in one hand. Good workout.

Anyway, so there I was in the shop, about 5 minutes later. I know it couldn't be more than 5 minutes because the song I was listening to on my ipod hasn't even finished when I reached, and that song only lasted for about 4 minutes.

Anyway, I was looking for a new range to use that is within my budget. Oh, and it must be from L'Oreal, because I am definitely worth it.

Suddenly I felt old. All the products sold seem to for anti-aging. I am not old, I said. I just celebrated my 18th birthday 5 years ago. I am not buying into this!

But I was bored, and since I made the effort to walk to the shop, I might as well keep myself occupied. So i picked a tube of cleanser up and started reading. No surprise - it was for anti-aging. And it was part of a three step anti-aging beauty regime. Why do they call it beauty regime? Is it because you are forced into using these products as though it were against the law not to use them? What kind of governmental policy making is this?

Anyway, so there I was reading and the back to the tube reads that I should take care of my skin at a really young age. It is sort of an investment. The earlier you start taking care of your skin, the better it will look when you're 40. yeah I guess it is a lot like investment. You invest some money now and when you're forty, hopefully, the investment will mature and you get truck loads of money. Or if you're really jinxed, the stock market could crash and you'll end up bankrupt. I suppose the same could be applied to beauty investment. You invest a lot in your skin, and all it takes is some crazy guy to pour acid on your face and that's the end of it. Same logic.

I guess I bought into the investment thing, because the next thing I knew, I was handing out a fifty dollar note to the nice cashier for the whole complete set of VISIBLE RESULTS series from L'Oreal. I am so worth it, I told myself.

Thinking about it, sometimes I do feel old. Now, I keep using the term 'looking back'. I never used that phrase when I was younger, simply because there was nothing to look back on. Unless you count peeing in class when I was 5. No wait, that wasn't me. That was Winda. But you get my idea.

People And Their Crazy Antics

2005-11-01T07:43:00.000+08:00

I am sometimes amazed at the things people say in the name of breaking awkwardness. Sometimes, in their desperate attempts to break that silence, they create even more awkwardness. Now I think that is stupid.

Enter the redundant questions. I find it humorous when I meet someone I know in the bus at 7 in the morning, in my school uniform, on the way to school and the first thing they say is "Eh? going to school is it?".

No, stupid, I'm going for a really lame ass party which starts at 730 in the morning and has a school uniform theme.

Can you believe people?

Then there are those who see you typing away furiously on your laptop and gleefully ask "Eh, are you typing something?". Or when you are reading and they sincerely ask "Are you reading a?". You get my point

The best people are those who meet me by chance at any random place and just blurt out "Eh! You are here!".

No, I am not. I am a manifestation of your subconscious mind playing tricks on you.

Second best are those who call me at home and when I answer, asks "Eh, are you at home?".

Then again, people are full of crazy antics. Take these few for example.

1.        Isn't it amazing how when people leave valuable things in the car, they always cover them up with a jacket or something. Now, I am sure some potential car burglar will have no idea there is something sitting underneath the jacket despite a big lump that just yells "I am covering something". The smarter ones hide them in the boot of the car, because heaven knows that if a car burglar breaks in, they will never ever check the boot if their lives depended on it and even if they wanted to, the boot will be inaccessible to anyone but the owner.

2.        These very same people leave their bags unattended at a crowded place with no one they know attending to their belongings.

3.        The way people whose limbs are casted in plaster start to scratch the cast because the skin beneath itches. In some bizarre way, the sensation will somehow penetrate through the inanimate layer and bring physical relief.

4.        How people frantically run about asking for a ten-cent coin so that they could call the ambulance or the police from the public phone.

5.        Murphy's Law apply, and when they find a ten-cent coin, the public phone only accepts cards. Then they run about frantically again asking for a phone card. Who carries phone cards around these days, anyway?

6.        How people smoke their lungs off and complain about car exhaust fumes.

7.        How people are so caught up with some stranger who lives a thousand miles away (in a different continent, no less) and don't even know the names of their neighbors whom they see everyday.

8.        How people pierce every possible place on their bodies and tattoo each possible square centimeter of their skins, and still be afraid of a small paper-cut.

Hur hur hur.

The Uh-Mazing Race!!!

2004-12-22T23:11:00.000+08:00

I love that show. THAT is reality television, and we can all learn a thing or two from it. Things like:

Life is ALWAYS a race. Just make sure there is always someone behind you so that you're never last.

Trust nobody. Keep your friends close and enemies closer.

Make alliances, but save your ass first.

There can only be one winner, so when the right time comes, screw alliances.

Mother Nature and Lady Luck are the two biggest bitches. Period

Always blame someone else.

Assholism is forgiven by good looks. If you are assholic and ugly, please do humanity a favour and die.

I really cannot stand Johnathan from the Johnathan and Victoria combo. He sucks.

Oh, and I still have not found the team I will be rooting for. I miss the Bowling Moms. Call me.

Quote of The Day:

The fastest way to get a (military) officer is to sleep while on duty

The Oscars and Mah Predix

2004-12-21T21:05:00.000+08:00

I must get down to my predictions soon.

Damn...

Beach Volleyball Court

2004-12-21T20:53:00.000+08:00

Strangely, I just remembered this afternoon an article in TODAY I read a few weeks ago about some beach volleyball court that is going to be built somewhere in the heart of Clementi - complete with a sandpit and all to emulate the beach and, of course, since it's going to be a beach volleyball court, with those poles and stuff.

Very much like one of those new-improved street soccer courts I guess, the ones I used to play in a few years ago back in secondary school when I was young and impressionable.

And I think it's funny, because I see little point in making a mock beach set-up in Singapore where, no matter where you are, the beach is less than half an hour away. I mean the real beach. Because, let me see, we are an ISLAND you know? Surrounded by the sea and not-so-white but sandy beaches?

But the plan is on the way, much to the delight of the many stray cats in the area who have been made aware that the authorities are going to build them a huge volleyball-court-sized kitty litter.

It's all for the cats.

Meow.

QUOTE OF THE DAY: THEY MISUNDERESTIMATED ME - George W. Bush

Town on Christmas Week & My Brand New Do!!!

2004-12-21T01:13:00.000+08:00

I cannot believe this!!! The last time I updated this page was more than a month ago??? What have I been doing???

Oh yeah...that little thing called exams...how could Ihave forgotten?

Hur hur hur.

Anyway, I guess i should be updating my blog regularly from now on. SInce I have time on my hands and all. And the fact that I promised myself to get down to it like, uhm, weeks ago.

So here I am.

After an exciting day...

Note to self: Never go to town any day on Christmas week. You'd most probably die of suffocation.

There were people everywhere. But, thankfully, most looked good and dressed even better, so it wasn't that bad (although a special mention has to go to those people dressed as Biblical characters outside Wisma Atria SC).

I got a haircut today though. Haircuts always make me feel better, especially during the holiday season when chances are, I'd be alone and lonely. I go for haircuts everytime I feel depressed, actually. At this rate, I'll be hairless soon.

I really like my new hairdo. It gives me that out-of-bed look I've been trying to get. But the hairstylist had the finesse of a neurosurgeon, and I doubt I'd be able to duplicate his work of art. I forgot his name though. Now where might that receipt be?

Oh, and I took pictures of me and my new hair, because pictures last longer. Hur hur hur.

Haida said my hair looked nice. Of course, that was after I pointed my penknife at her and threatened to slash her throat if she didn't. But she said it, and that was what counts.

Oh anyway, results will be released this Saturday, which, for those calendarly-challenged, coincides with Christmas. I'd be getting a nice gift this year, so...

Oh and I was also at Borders earlier, looking at stuff to get for people I am supposed to be close to, when I realised I didn't have to because I'd be sick on Christmas (but hopefully alive) after getting the results (at 0900 hrs, if you must know) and so would not be able to meet anyone to give them any gifts. So, since I cannot give them any gifts on Saturday due to my impending illness (mostly heartache from the potential 'C' grade), there was no point in me getting any to begin with.

Sometimes, I surprise myself.

Be back soon.

Quote of the day:

NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF STUPID PEOPLE IN LARGE GROUPS.

My Congenial Day and Half-Priced Waffles

2004-10-27T08:52:00.000+08:00

Okay I was supposed to head down to school and do research for my - gasp! - three term papers but being the lazy asswipe that I am, I DIDN'T!!! Shudder!!!

But I did something quite productive. I needed to get a study lamp because the light in the room is coming from the back and when I sit down to study, my shadow, bless it dark soul, casts itself over my readings. Not very healthy for the eyes. So I have decided to go out and get myself a table lamp. Didn't want to go far so I thought Parkway Parade was an ideal location. Little did I realise that most of the things found there could be found in my neighbour constituency of Tampenis. Hur hur.

So there I was looking for study lamps. First off, Giant Supermarket where the atmosphere was horrible and the lamps even worse. So I skipped down like a little possessed boy down to Harvey Norman where, sadly, they don't sell any table lamps. BOOO!!! Then it is off to its neighbour Best Denki (Side note - why do you have two electrical stores, like, side by side?) where, I couldn't remember whether they have any or not, but the fact is, I didn't buy any from there either.

At this juncture, I was at a loss. i was desperate. I was about to do something horrible to myself, like run my fingers through my hair and make it a mess in a public space...but something struck my eye. From the corner of my large eyes, I could see it...COURTS!!! I was delighted. I was jumping madly around and the shopkeepers nearly called IMH to see whether a patient has escaped. I ignored them and sprinted down to Courts where, to my utter disappointment, I only saw Hello Kitty study lamps. Ugly. Very ugly. Other than that, the lamps costs like, more than a hundred bucks. I am not spending that amount of muh-ney for studying. I'd rather save up and get myself LASIK after all this is done.

So there I was, feeling all sorry for my sad and tired soul, when I spotted something nice - Body Shop. I decided to believe someone when someone said my lips were getting dry so I glamourously stepped in and was greeted by a warm "Hi!Welcome to the Body Shop!" I smiled back of course, being the gracious Singaporean that I am and headed straight for the lipbalm section where I bought myself a Vitamin E Lip-care SPF 15.

Then off I went down to Gelare where I feasted on one half priced waffle (it being Tuesday) topped with one sexy scoop of Chocolate Overload and one lustful scoop of Cookies and Cream. Then it was off to Old Chiang Kee where I thought the allure of the fried squid head and body was overwhelming. So I got that too.

I must have missed out very important details - like the fact that I was with a friend the whole time.

So there you go...how I spent my rather unproductive, yet congenial Tuesday. I love Tuesdays. I means that Monday is over, the midweek is coming and, more importantly, I get half priced waffles at Gelare. Sweet.

Will You Love Me Tomorrow

2004-10-26T21:53:00.000+08:00

Performed: The Shirelles
Words and Music: Gerry Goffin and Carole King)

Tonight you're mine completely
You give your love so sweetly
Tonight the light of love is in your eyes
But will you love me tomorrow?

Is this a lasting treasure
Or just a moment's pleasure?
Can I believe the magic of your sighs?
Will you still love me tomorrow?

Tonight with words unspoken
You say that I'm the only one
But will my heart be broken
When the night meets the morning sun?

I'd like to know that your love
Is love I can be sure of
So tell me now, and I won't ask again
Will you still love me tomorrow?
Will you still love me tomorrow?

Chinatown

2004-10-26T14:05:00.000+08:00

Anyway, I was watching Chinatown yesterday for Film & History and realised a few things:

Jack Nicholson is one awesome actor,

Roman Polanski is one awesome director,

If they were to remake the film, Gwyneth Paltrow - who won an Oscar for no apparent reason - would make a good Evelyn Mulwray played in the film by Faye Dunaway,

Faye Dunaway looked OK while she was younger and

I can hold my pee for more than two hours when need be.

So we will be watching L.A. Confidential next week featuring Kim Basinger who won a deserving Oscar for her role in the film. Can't wait for that.

FINALLY!!! I am updating mah blog...

2004-10-26T13:46:00.000+08:00

I have decided to update mah blog, thanks to the old and dying Winda who commented that the blog, very much like its owner, is pretty much useless.

So I have decided to add some glamourous input today, on the day that I am supposed to get my ass down to school, do research for my - gasp! - three term papers due next week (what have I been doing?) and, like, study. But it has been raining, and school is all the way down in Timbuktu and I have decided to carry out the research at home. As if that is going to help, but never underestimate the power of JStor. Hur hur...

So I have been one busy man lately. I just handed up a paper last week - one I have worked my ass off on and one which, if I don't get at least an A- for, will leave me a very pissed man. How pissed? Pissed enough to go wakeboarding and pee all over the dashboard of the boat... hur.

So anyway, Yus will be going to school, and I was contemplating on going. In fact I already have put on my clothes and have gotten ready to scram out and head for Norway where school is but looking at the weather, I think that it is not worth my effort getting my shoes wet. They are just so pretty y'know?

So that is the update for now. If you are wondering, not that I think you do, I have not been blogging on the Singapore Idol saga because, lemme see, it is a frigging waste of time. But I do think that Florence Lian should really consult a personal groomer before she comes out on air. First the hideous flower outfit, then - for no apparent reason - the Monica Gellar-Bing in Barbados hairstyle. It would make Joan Rivers scream murder.

SO I shall be updating the blog that I have sophisticatedly created on a regular basis, and by regular basis I mean as and when I feel like it, have the time, and could be bothered to.

Anyway, you have fun my dearies and I will be baaack.

Saufi

Singapore Idols Finals Round One

2004-09-30T21:40:00.000+08:00

Haiz...

Okay, for those who did not watch it, do not alarm. You don't have to slit your wrist (as if the show is worth slitting your wrist to begin with).

That is because I, being the media hub wannabe that I am, have covered the event live from the comfort of my room and the blow-by-blow details can be found here.

Anyway, stay tuned to this blogspot because I will give my comments later on how the first finals went (in short, kinda BORING) and who I think will survive.

Till then, I leave you with 'I still have not found mah ciggie!'

The Sweet Smell of Mid-term Break

2004-09-18T15:04:00.000+08:00

That lovely aroma - better than my room after I dropped and broke my bottle of XS by Paco Robanne last year.

Singapore's Idol?

2004-09-17T19:33:00.000+08:00

Woah...that was another shocker.

But I think I know why the judges chose Maia in the first place, and how it ended up with having TWELVE (uh hur, that's one more than eleven, for those numerically challenged) finalists.

My theory is they knew that, if Singapore voted correctly, Beverly was well on her way to the finals, sans their intervention. Obviously, last week's results had no impression on the judges, whatsoever. This meant they didn't really have to butt in and bring her on - all they needed to do was to simply sit back and let the voting system take its course.

You see, picking Beverly as their first choice and leaving Maia to the mercy of the voters might not spell good news for the little darling, because we saw some mightier vocals and charisma on that stage.

Of course, the judges discounted Sylvester Sim, who slipped in with the most number of votes.

That meant Beverly, for no apparent reason, was NOT in the finals.

But the awesome foursome decided to play fairy-god-judges and make this dream of the 25-year-old come true by pulling her back in - an unprecedented move that caused the number of finalists to hit twelve.

And surprisingly, Beverly did not cry. Not even a single tear.

Anyway, after the coronation of the judges' picks and Singapore's choice, the other nine finalists from earlier pianao shows magically appeared in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it little cameo, and created havoc in the backgroound while Beverly belted out her rendition of Chaka Khan's Ain't Nobody.

How appropriate.

Narf...

Til I Get Over You

2004-09-16T10:58:00.000+08:00

Everytime I feel alone
I can blame it on you
And I do
You got me like a loaded gun
Golden sun and sky so blue

We both know that we want it
But we both know you left me no choice

Sometimes I watch the world go by
I wonder what it's like
To wake up every single day
Smile on your face
You never tried

We both know we can't change it
But we both know we'll just have to face it

If only I could give you up
But would I want to let you off of this soapbox baby?

We both know that we want it
But we both know you left me no choice

(Chaque fois que tu t'en vas)
You just bring me down
(Je pretend que tout va bien)
So I'm counting my tears 'til I get over you

We both know that I'm not over you

I'm not over you

My Free Day Gone To Waste

2004-09-16T10:40:00.000+08:00

I like my free days. OK, love is more like it.

But I hate it when they go to waste. Case in point: yesterday.

What did I do? Let me see, I slept until about noon, got up for brunch, then slept again until about six, had dinner, washed up, watched Charmed (man, I think Rose McGowan needs a tan) and then The Amazing Race (You go Bowling Mommas!!!)

Whatever.

Not to mention, I have an essay due on Friday.

Oh, and did I mention I have not even started?

Well, I have not even started, so there.

That was just one day. I dread the thought of idling my one week break next week.

It's already September? Where are my third quarter Oscar predictions already?

2004-09-10T10:19:00.000+08:00

Oh mah gawd...how time flies y'all!!!

It's September, the Emmy Awards are next week, nine out of the ten Singapore Idol finalists have already been chosen, Lee, Jr. has already taken over as the country's No. 1 and, most importantly, term break's next week. And I still don't have my third quarter Oscar predictions for next year. Must get to work...but more important things first...RIDING TODAY!!! Woohoo!!!

Narf...

First post y'all!!!

2004-09-09T23:24:00.000+08:00

Woohoo!!! Got mah space in blogger.com...wonder what I'm gonna do to the one at Xanga.com...

Now time to let this account (like all the other blogs I have created and left to rot) lay dormant until they send me a notice...

Hur hur hur...