Dreams, Illusions, Bubbles, Shadows

Time to say goodbye

2006-11-21T16:08:00.000+08:00

I've had some two great years on Blogger. Dressing my blog up and down over and over again is the most thrilling discovery I found on the Internet. Needlessly to say, a larger than recommended proportion of my sleeping hours went into html playing. Once in a blue moon, Blogger would fly into a tantrum and flush my posts down the virtual drains. Writhes painfully. After donating a couple of posts to the virtual environment conservation campaign, I experimented with other platforms including Wordpress. Wordpress was my faithful hidding place whenever Blogger flung me over the garden hedge. Even then, I never thought I would leave Blogger. I've some stubborn and often irrational habits, blind loyalty is one of them.

But the recent tantrum caught me off balance. I felt it won't be inappropriate to mouth a few oaths at the LCD. It's just so annoying and totally distorts the spontaneity of blogging.

So, I'm moving to Coffee with Roses.

I'm leaving the old posts at Blogger. As mentioned, Blogger holds some of my best and worst moments in the past two years.

I'll always love you, Blogger.

The demise of a blogger

2006-11-19T13:21:00.000+08:00

Note: For reasons unknown to me, Blogger has unceremoniously thrown me into exile with an ultimatum: Could not connect to Blogger.com. Saving and publishing may fail.
This post was dated Nov 14, 2006, 10.26pm. Initially I dismissed it as a scheduled maintenance but for five days?! The urge to run to the open arms of wordpress is insuppressible after waves of rejection. If this post doesn't see the world, I'd join other deluded fellow bloggers on the other side of the riverbank. Let's just pray.

My peanut of a brain

2006-11-08T06:28:00.000+08:00

Thank god I'm not an elephant for I've only a peanut sized brain. The velocity at which my mind unloads unpleasant luggage and life-and-death notices is sheer amazement. It's like they've eloped with the wind on the back of a kite. Hmm...this puts new meaning into the famed phrase Gone with the wind.

If I'm a rich girl

2006-10-29T02:24:00.000+08:00

1. I will buy myself a pink laptop.

Sony Vaio C Series - Delicious

Blush Pink!

These gorgeous laptops have just made their debut in US for USD 1350 (SGD 2112). Wonder when the Heidi Klum of Mobile PCs will come to Singapore. I can't wait to wrap my lusty fingers around a fresh face Blush Pink!

Frankly, a pink laptop will make my gadget family so happy like this: 1. Jump, 2. Leap, 3. Banana Split!

2. I will revive my uninspiring silver laptop with a pink makeover.

Love offerings from Skyn!

This glossy hot pink skin pampers your beloved laptop with Swarovski Crystals. Choose from a palette of 8 dazzling colours to adorn any letter of your choice.

Diva Quotient: 5/5

If you are a retro yuppie, the eva collection will definitely catch your eye.

Envy me

This retro-floral print is available in pink, purple and blue. The first image that flashed through my mind when I saw Eva was Liv Tyler as Arwen in Lord of the Rings. Eva exudes a subtle luxury without being ostentatious. One can't help but be drawn to its magnificent display of floral wilderness. If Eva is not high fashion laptop skin, I don't know what is.

Price: USD 40 (SGD 65)

Stand Up for Children

2006-10-16T17:56:00.000+08:00

I like the way my brother calls out my name in a crowd and holds my hand warmly. The unconditional trust from a child is so precious. I want to protect the childhood of the marginalised children, be it the latchkey children, children with life-threatening illnesses or children with special needs. Love from parents can change the direction our lives may take. I just hope by sharing my life with the little ones and writing love into their lives will make 'growing up' a happy future to look forward to.

Image taken from Children's Cancer Foundation

From Autobiography of a Geisha by Sayo Masuda,

"If you have the heart of a human being and you become the parent of a human being, then even if it exhausts every bit of your energy, until that child can walk alone I want you to do your duty as a parent."

Babes: A programme by Beyond Social Services to support pregnant teenagers.

A person can be bought and sold. But not a person's life. The life of a child is too precious to be discarded.

Monday Muffins

2006-10-09T14:42:00.000+08:00

Happiness is an ordinary ability that eludes me. For a devastating rental rate, I purchased a few weeks' worth of fluffy air castles mapped from fantastical Korean drama. Crisp banknotes buy me shortlived happiness from clothes, bags, shoes & accessories. It butters up my vain ego and assuages my guilt from parting with my dollars. If ego inflation is positively correlated with inner fulfilment, I'd be the happiest man on earth. Sadly, a soaring ego index only magnifies the emptiness in the smallest of everyday happenings. I was ensnared by an age-old trap laid for the careless traveller. Selfishness, cowardice and proscrastination clung steadfast to my entire being, draining my energy like leeches savouring fresh blood.

We come to earth with no memories and material possessions. As we stumble along the windy path called life, we fill up our invisible sack with pieces of recollections for the uncertain future like a farmer keeps dried bread for winter. Quoting from a friend, I've overloaded my emotional baggage and crippled myself. So what now?

I clip new wings onto my back and learn to fly. A seagull who never thought beyond fighting for the occasional bread crumbs thrown by the children or inexperienced fish swimming near the water surface, is contented to live among his raucous compatriots. A seagull doesn't know the infinite capacity of flight. The primitive function of feathered wings has been forgotten through the generations. The first seagull might have soared like an eagle to any destination his heart desired.

Overcoming physical constraints to realise the infinity of one's intangible constraints is akin to questioning a drug addict's willpower to quit drugs. I'm making regular donations to my willpower bank. This aerospace project is a costly long term investment that suppresses an investor's risk appetite and raise the riskiness of the asset. Volatily in the macro environment imposes external factors beyond our control. Tomorrow is unknown to me. With limited discretionary income to absorb potential losses, suppose I didn't succeed in flying, the reality of immobility will kill me. I'm naturally more risk averse and hence, demand higher risk premium.

I'm putting high stakes on this hand. Disregarding the absolute comparison of input-output ratio, I'm happy with the returns. They satisfy my cravings for human interaction and communication. I'm smiling more and perversely thrilled by the dull ache from stretching my stiff, underused facial muscles. Joel described this form of happiness aptly as "smiling in my heart".

Every smile fills up my happiness deficit. I'm very grateful for every exchange of friendly gesture and smile. There're some stubborn knots I haven't figure out but I'm not demoralised. After all, I'm highly motivated now :)

After feeding my imagination with cheap entertainment, I renew my intimate bonds with Asian literature. I read this sentence after a dinner of meaningful emotional exchange:

"I passed through her life, but it was a one-way trip." (The Girl who Played Go by Shan Sa)

Maybe it was the coincidence of residual memories from a dinner rich in Japanese flavour and the heart-wrenching reflection from a young Japanese officer stationed in Manchuria in the 1920s. Or perhaps it's the uncanny reality that Shan Sa gives to the Japanese quest. That sentence just sticks itself to the ends of my nerves.

According to a Japanese legend, Japan lies on the back of a giant catfish. Every flick and turn the catfish makes in the ocean creates earthquakes. The Emperor fueled the paternity in his soldiers with this simple yet powerful reason: Only China with its large and stable land can secure a safe future for our children. The insatiable greed of one man lent illegitimate power into the greatest pillage of Asian civilisation.

The names of the Chinese girl and the Japanese officer were veiled but the intensity of war and fierce willpower of the lifeless people buried under the glory of a greater war are compounded throughout the book. Another poignant quote:

"Life is a castle of lies slowly dismantled by the passage of time." (from the Chinese girl)

How many of us can dispute with that?

Miracle Oil

2006-09-19T18:56:00.000+08:00

I discovered a great product from Fancl recently! Fancl's Mild Cleansing Oil is a definite must-try for lazy girls who just want remove their make-up quickly and head straight for their plush pillows! Here's why:

You can use it with either dry or damp hands.
Massage a modest amount of Mild Cleansing Oil over your make-up, clean off with warm water and voila! Complete your cleansing with your usual cleanser.
My skin feels clean and doesn't tighten after the wash.
It's gentle on sensitive skin. No breakouts after using!
Affordable pricing for girls surviving on a shoestring budget. S$17.50 (60 ml), S$30.50 (120 ml), S$58 (120ml x 2)
Gorgeous limited edition packaging!

Japan by Swedish designer, Annikka Wester.

This is what I bought 2 weeks ago. If only I know a limited edition is coming up... :(

At this moment...

2006-09-04T12:37:00.000+08:00

Swirling dresses. Cinderalla shoes. Bags. Petite ceramic bowls. Blisters. Plasters. Cash. Marine & citrus notes. Grades. Private loft. Lavina. Home. Seoul. Laundry. Singnet webmail. Weak stomach.

Sun Tzu's Art of War

2006-07-24T12:50:00.000+08:00

I've learnt that the easiest way to survive a civil war is to keep your head low, listen with a sympathetic smile but pledge allegiance to none, stay away from populous areas, keep your hands busy (even if it means picking earwax) and don't look too eager to show off your athletic talents at the first blast of ammunition.

After all, I'm just a small shrimp whose greatest ambition in life is to be the tastiest keropok in Kuantan. Muahaha~

What do you do when you msn with your friend's mum?

2006-07-23T17:34:00.000+08:00

Nowadays, I hardly go on MSN and when I do, LP & J rushed to mark the calendar as the birth of the World's 8th Wonder. Sigh~

After a quick chat with Yuki, I saw Vera online! Excitedly, I clicked on her nick and started babbling at top speed. Satisfied with my lovely summer greeting, I waited patiently for my deservedly warm reception while thumbing through my emails.

5 minutes passed and still no response.

"She's real slow today," I mumbled as I clicked on the chat box. Apparently, Vera was writing something...and so I paused my itchy fingers. Seconds later, this appeared on the screen:

I'm her mum. Vera's not at home.

My eyes popped for a moment. Thankfully, I've the intuition to save the lesser desirable contents for later conversation and leave my greeting nice and cosy. But her mum left before I can apologise gracefully and hopefully, leave a lasting impression. Sigh, so much so for the World's 8th Wonder.

C-R-Y!

2006-07-15T23:31:00.000+08:00

My laptop died again and swept ALL my earthly data into the deep universe of nothingness. Now I'm with no laptop, no documents, no bookmarks, no contacts, no ----- EVERYTHING!

I'm in great despair. Let me wallow in my tremendous self-pity.

Hymm to Isis, 300 B.C.

2006-06-29T14:25:00.000+08:00

For I am the first and the last
I am the venerated and the despised
I am the prostitute and the saint
I am the wife and the virgin
I am the mother and the daughter
I am the arms of my mother
I am barren and my children are many
I am the married woman and the spinster
I am the woman who gives birth and she
who never procreated
I am the consolation for the pain of birth
I am the wife and the husband
And it was my man who created me
I am the mother of my father
I am the sister of my husband
And he is my rejected son
Always respect me
For I am the shameful and the magnificent one

Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus

2006-06-27T14:29:00.000+08:00

Spotted a great article on Newsweek: Staying Together, Living Apart

This couple is married, lived in the same building but different apartments. The idea is to have more "me" time and 10 minutes in the toilet doesn't come close to privacy. I thought this is a fantastic idea. Though staying away from home takes away the comforts I'm so used to, it reduces the frequency of conflicts. I suppose there's a positive correlation between time spent together and occurence of conflicts. However, a life without conflicts could be really dull.

There was a discussion on "Types of man to avoid" on radio this morning. A radio dj said, "Never fall prey to the dark silent hawk - men with a cold glint in their eyes who scrimp on proper conversations, rich or devastatingly gorgeous they are - avoid them at all costs. It was a Chinese programme. The rough summary is as follows:

深沉的男人有阴沉的心。婚前女人为他的冷绝孤傲着迷，虽然男人不曾对她甜言蜜语。婚后男人依然沉默。妻子形影不离的追随丈夫的心，终究还是失败了。有一天夫妻站在秋天洋溢的花园里。丈夫淡淡的说：“秋天来了。” 曾经女人会为了男人的主动而受宠若惊，晚上睡不着觉。这时成熟聪明的女人翻了个白眼说道：“废话！” 男人看傻了眼。两年后，他们离婚了。妻子的婚后感想是深沉的男人有病。和他们相处久了自己也会变得沉默寡言。所以爱说话的阳光女孩切误入歧途！

This week's reading list: Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho, Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus by John Gray. :)

Friends, Lovers, Chocolate: The Game of Seduction

2006-06-18T00:18:00.000+08:00

Like two giant balls of energy, we collide and burst into flames. The dancing fire licked our bare skin, savouring the bittersweet taste of life. The intimacy of two skins, the sweeping waves of heat, the conflicting struggle between primative desire and civilised rationality. A wanton moan of satisfaction, a creeping hint of guilt and regret. The kitchen wall clock ticked sternly. The insistent, resonating echoes threw dark cautionary notes to the stagnant air.

My hands stopped in mid-motion. My tongue still bearing the mark of my brief rendezvous with the chocolate bar. The warmth of the rich milk chocolate permeate my entire being. With all my might, feeling that I would like to stir the household with a shout, if only to express my rapture fully.

I'm so in love with you, chocolate.

You're the cause of numerous conspiracies to overthrow the watertight warrior diet; the reason for broken oaths, shattered trust, uncalculated risky trips to the fridge, an uncontrollable expanding girth. You're the culprit for my body's traitorous behaviour.

You lure me into the game of seduction with the ease of a trained temptress and engulf my weak resistance with false allures.

Chocolate. You're my friend, my lover, my foe.

It's Summer Again!

2006-06-12T00:05:00.000+08:00

Christopher chillin' out in winter wear

One of my fav photos BUT my hands shook. \(>o<)/

Is there a remedy for old granny's trembling hands? I can't take a decent shot at all! Wails!

WORLD CUP is finally here!!! This year's German squad is younger, more appealing and more offensive. Ten minutes before the final whistle, the Germans were riding high on a 4-2 score and "queueing up to score ". Miroslav Klose netted two goals! Yeah! How time flies...Klose is 28, already. :(

Huh? Huh? :(

2006-05-30T23:42:00.000+08:00

3 more days...press on.

Ding-Dang-Dong! Language proficiency short circuit

2006-05-21T20:17:00.000+08:00

I of now, can only manage two miserable languages in mediocre standard. This is to say, I can't think straight in either language. Suppose I want to express in Chinese, I would inevitably end up with an English substitute and vice versa. Can this be called seamless integration of multiple language mediums or should I just admit that I'm a classic language mongrel?

Anyway, writing in bad chinese is fun. At least I can scribble something in Asian script, albeit, in less than satisfactory standard.

What I've been doing these days: eating fingers & drinking blood.

2006-05-06T23:19:00.001+08:00

I realise I can't write/type for too long or my semi-numb fingers will grow even numb-er. It feels odd to be typing with 6 fingers now [to rest the 4 semi-numb fingers]. A great excuse for my usual embarrasingly s-l-o-w typing speed. Ever so regularly, I've to flex my fingers and rub the unconscious four. Sometimes I will bite them to test how resilient they are. Too bad I have gone past the age of getting my hands caned. They would have come in useful back then. -_-

Tasting blood because of swollen gums. When I suck deeply, the faint metallic taste of blood stain my taste buds. Once, for no reason I decided to lick my lips and sincerely, regretted it. Over the cracked lips, dried/fresh (I've no idea) blood lingered on the tip of my tongue. The first intellectual jolt was: I am not cut out for the eternal nightwalker profession!! How do vampires savor blood like gourmet food?!

Brushing teeth is a nightmare. I gave up looking at the mirror. I just scrub my teeth mechanically. The last time I looked at the mirror, I saw white foam laced with red fluid, in my mouth. My jaws dropped. From the next morning onwards, I stare at the sink. It's more bearable, that way. -_-

shoulda woulda coulda buy this!

2006-05-02T18:42:00.000+08:00

I bought the most expensive magazine I ever had to date. A 16 dollars World Cup 2006 Souvenir Special mag. I tried to talk myself round with this warped logic -- the mag is a worthwhile investment with a net value of 4 dollars/year, a reasonable amount no less. But damn, I can't believe I've sold myself to the capitalistic business leeches. 16 dollars for a magazine?! I'm MAD.

The rain & the storm.

2006-05-01T19:23:00.000+08:00

An ominous storm is brewing in the grey skies. I hurried my footsteps along the narrow sheltered walkway outside school. Great metallic creatures crawled cautiously on the slippery roads. The crowd at the bus-stop multiplied quickly, I shifted uncomfortably, balancing a killer 3-inch file precariously on my sore hands. Unknowingly, I drifted into a daze. Exactly how long did I maintain the awkward pose of grabbing my file tightly to my chest, I don't know. A shrill honk! jerked me to reality with the gravity of a free fall. I surveyed the road for the culprit. It was a flamboyant red fiat. An equally arrogant guy sat at the wheel. If he thought a honk would scare the homely honda under the protection of a provisional license plate on the adjacent lane into letting him cut queue, he's dreadfully mistaken. The sturdy honda snubbed the racy fiat silently by inching closer to the car before it. Ha! 1-0 to the plain Jane.

An hour later, I stepped out of a freezing shower. A streak of lightning pierced through the skies followed by a thunderous roar. A wave of tranquility swept over me. It was a soothing peace I've not felt for ages. On this extraordinarily peaceful day, I sprayed on a generous amount of Oceanus bodymist. Enveloped in this nostagic scent, for a moment, everything was alright. Nothing has changed in this frozen space of time.

I've stubbornly refused to wash my hands after spraying the bodymist. The sweet scent still hovers over my body but the magic spell it had cast was broken by the chilly wind.

This is 2006, may 1. The present. My present.

We're going to PARIS! TO PARIS! TO PARIS! TO PARIS! TO PARIS!

2006-04-26T20:34:00.000+08:00

I love ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL!

At the 89th minute penalty to Villarreal, I prayed nervously for a miracle like...the penalty taker got a cramp in his leg/ slipped and missed on target/ Lehmann dived in the right direction and blocked the ball. It was such a finger-biting moment. 8 out of 10 penalty shots made it to the back to the net. BUT this one DIDN'T! Lehmann got the devilish ball snugly in his hands!

My eyes popped when the team formations were revealed at the start of the match. Arsenal was playing a 4-1-4-1 formation. Clearly, their minds are on defence. A goal or two will be a bonus.

After the final whistle, the Villarreal players broke down in tears. To be fair, they put up a good fight, pushing forward constantly with a double-digit shots on target (all saved by the Man-of-the-Match Lehmann). Diego Forlan was in fantastic form, penetrating through the tight Arsenal defence to look for the break-even goal. Both Arsenal and Villarreal were underdogs in the early stages of the championship. Arsenal is fighting for 4th position in the EPL whereas Villarreal is 10th in the La Liga. To put it crudely, critics dismissed the two sides off as 'jokes'.

But now, Arsenal qualified for the Champion League finals on an 1-0 aggregate. We're going to Paris - to Paris!! AC Milan face Barcelona today. Can't wait to watch it!

[In small print: I've a soft spot for Italian players especially the Azzurri. Drools.]

Because of a blasted hair cut

2006-04-25T17:01:00.000+08:00

25-04-06 14 30
I did it AGAIN. I instructed the petite hairdresser to make sure I can see a significant difference in my hairstyle. She obeyed my instructions to the word. From the working apron tied around her dainty waist, the hairdresser whipped out shiny, metallic cutting devices that cropped off clunks of hair clinically. In a few minutes' time, even the seriously short-sighted and myopic me can visualise a stranger from the stunned reflection in the huge mirror. Mirrors don't lie, you know. Except those screwed-up changing room mirrors in certain apparel stores.

Damn, I can't even define myself. I'm a pathetic specimen of a undefined status creature. Forget about feminine graces, those I never possess and definitely not in this horrifying instance. The miserable mass of hair can't even pass for a neat crew cut.

I mumbled furiously under my breath. A few more snips and I could rectify this mortifying hair into a spikey mob. I can tolerate a spikey hairdo but not a limp, bodyless flop of hair.

The hairdresser shifted between my left and right, working dilligently at creating layers on my hair. I wrestled with the counter strategy in my mind, suppressing the urge to scream "STOP!" I wasn't sufficiently drunk in my misery to holler at the hairdresser and her nimble fingers. I continued staring helplessly at the reflection. You know, she looked like she can't wait to get her hands on an authentic wig.

At long last, the hairdresser completed her mission. I put on my glasses slowly, reluctant to glimpse at myself. I surveyed my hair wryly. This lady is good with her craft.

"Is this hairstyle to your satisfaction?" She asked politely.

"Yes, it is. Thank you," I replied, forcing a halfhearted smile on my lips.

"Erhm..." I called out hesitantly to the lady who had lowered her head to reach for a pair of scissors to snip off a stray strand off my fringe.

"Yes?"

I played with the thought of shortening my hair into a spikey hairdo. The others are going to think I've relapsed and gone mad again. That's the least of my worries, it's the effort of changing the way I dressed, accessories and shoes etc to pull off the punky hairdo. I had been there, done it. The fired up desire that surged through my pulse a year ago had vanished like vapour. There wasn't the rebellious streak. I just wanna be normal; to blend in. I know that probably sounds like a weakling talk but it's much easier to follow the lead and say baaaa. The M from a year ago would have scoffed at this idea and snorted in disgust.

"Nothing. Thank you for the haircut. How much do I have to pay you?"

It's alright. Time to dig up the wax, clay & hair liquid that have gathered dust from months of neglect and seriously fix up a decent hairstyle.

(Sigh) I wish I sound more convincing than the optimistic, foreign cheeping.

You know something is not right when...

2006-04-15T18:32:00.000+08:00

you read all these in a month's work.

Mathilda was for Christopher but I couldn't resist it. I made that my tea-time snackbook yesterday.

I've to say this about Cloud Atlas - it's by far the prettiest book I've read. Hot pink paperback embossed with exquisite silver designs. I just have to read it. In case you're wondering, this hot number is anything but chick lit.

I'm halfway through Tuesdays with Morrie. It's sitting on my cluttered desk for hours. I shot a wayward glance at it occassionally but that's about it. On one hand, I'm eager to flip open the book but on the other hand, I was too shaken bythe heartwrenching honesty Morrie taught his last lesson.

Before I emptied my pockets on the books, I busted my pathetic account on tragic korean drama series. I sought out the most tragic soap drama from 2005 - Save your last dance for me.

It was my first k-drama after The Winter Sonata in 2002 (which I watched less than 5 episodes). Fans swear by their soggy kleenex that Last Dance is one of the best tearjerker of the year. I rented the set, sat down on the couch and began...smiling wryly to myself. The korean actors and actresses are unrivalled in their art of crying. They cried, and cried, and cried. Everyone on the screen wept their hearts out. Even the bitsy roles are not spared. Tears flowed heart-wrenchingly with dramatic poise. For any indication of the volume of tears shed, R pressed "Fast Forward" at the first sight of a stiffled sob. She finished 4 discs in less than 2 hrs (Each disc is approximately 70 minutes long).

Crying aside, if you look past the plot typical of soap drama, Last Dance is a lovely distraction. The cast looks pretty good. They've good props - Chrysler, Bentley Continental and LG. The background music combines seamlessly with the plot. Unlike the Hollywood productions I'm accustomed with, korean dramas have many scenes in which the characters play out their roles without the aid of speech.

After I got myself riding on the crest of the K-wave, friends recommended a comedy 红豆女之恋.
I regret to say it wasn't as satisfying. In fact far less satisfying. I'm just a sucker for tragedies.

2006-04-13T00:59:00.000+08:00

I thought the earth was flat and if I walked far enough, I'd stand on the milky way. But after picking myself through vast stretches of land, I realised Christopher Columbus was right. The earth is round. I'm back to the origin again.

In life we walk amidst death

2006-04-04T20:14:00.000+08:00

In life we walk amidst death. People who cease to exist are nothing more than vultures who feed on the carcass of a dead man's life. The precariousness of life once overlooked is an imperial feast for the king of vultures. And have we not on several occasions choose to walk around signs that foresee undesirable outcomes? An old saying goes by "Ignorance is a bliss." But sayings are words of wisdom or the lack of passed from generation to generation. It is a maxim but not a doctrine.

Some are followers of ignorance; some choose not to pursue the truth. During a tea break, people stood in a haphazard queue for food or simply to get to the exit. There were two doors, one on each end of the room but no one took a second glance at the door pasted with a flimsy paper which read "Do not leave through this door." The first person who had only wanted to leave the damn room to take a leak could have possibly have read that notice and assumed the door to be locked and joined the long queue whose primary aim was to get the snacks placed on the table next to the door. After which, everyone followed suit. No one bothered to turn the knob of the door until he did. A person rose from his seat and left through the forbidden door like it was the most natural thing to do. Others looked on in surprise, a look of betrayal evident on their faces. It was unnatural to disobey warnings but that guy did the obvious and came back a happy bunny.

Rules are made to safeguard the interests of a community. Norms are deep-seated rules that make sure you don't run around naked. Laws are symbols of civilisation because a myth says justice is a knowledge that only intelligent people can wield at ease.

What does that leave us with? Follow blindly to what's expected and instructed? Just follow the mainstream and you will be spared the agony of making out-of-the-ordinary decisions. You will reach your destination according to the date stipulated on your neat timetable. A linear journey is always the easiest but also the most boring and least satisfying of all.

I'm a fine product of socialisation whose existence is measured by the degree of parallelness to the railway tracks that mapped out my life. I've a couple of vices - nothing seriously detrimental that will warrant a calling down from persons of authority. I'm in short, a boring person whose greatest threat in life, is the terrier who lived on the sixth floor.

I don't walk around signs. I'm above that. I walk on it in its full glory. Thirty-eight days before my legal age of 21, I'm certain as newton is of gravity that I've lived my best years and the remaining years will be fulfilled dutifully. The happiness quotient will be of a respectable value for me to pull off a cordial smile on social occasions.

I've always believed happiness is an abundance of good luck. There must be a limit to how lucky a person can be. We run into bad luck just like the awful cold and coughing fit that invade our immunity systems when they feel like it. Luck is a temperamental little thing, as capricious as happiness is.

I can't explain the purpose of this entry other than it all started with the vulture idea on a bus ride home. Things don't usually go the way I planned it to be. If I've decided to reach A, I'd undoubtedly end up on the other end of the continuum. After a while, I give up on planning and the big word called 'strategy' altogether.

With the courage of a fool who has nothing more to lose is more than enough, for me to continue this linear journey.

wind

2006-03-24T20:56:00.000+08:00

It's getting cold with gusty winds sweeping through the windows. The peach curtains ballooned like the bloated bulge of a hungry oaf. The same wind that freezed my knuckles whirled 1000 kilometres away to perhaps this place:

Lovely sight yea? Much as I tried, I've never figured out how to fly a kite. I flew my kite indoors under a mighty fan spinning at full speed. My kite jolted at the charged up velocity of the man-made fan and wandered around the living room. Peeking behind the shelves, playing boo with the mirrors, lingering at the french door overlooking the garden. The little kite swayed to the rhythmic whispers of the rustling leaves. It didn't belong in here with the artificial wind and dead furniture but out there.

Like a captured wild falcon, the kite lost its energy and laid in a crumpled heap on the floor. I put the kite away and did not play with it again.

I've loved the motion and energy in the body of a kite as it soars. Had I set it free, it would have danced with the wind and flown high and far.

What the eyes don't see, the heart does grieve over.

2006-03-22T15:41:00.000+08:00

The further off they are, the closer to the heart are all those feelings that we try to repress and forget. If we're in exile, we want to store away every tiny memory of our roots. If we're far from the person we love, everyone we pass in the street reminds us of them. We don't want to forget who we are - nor can we.

2006-03-10T21:50:00.000+08:00

i'm going to stop for a while and mull things over.

i've an insane craving...to shave my eyebrows bald.

2006-03-05T19:03:00.000+08:00

我不聪明所以比别人努力。
至于努力是否相等于成功，那是未知数。
也许一切是徒劳无功，也许会满载而归。
成功是天时地利的造就。
我也只不过是个凡夫。

dementia

2006-02-28T23:02:00.000+08:00

i'm not brave
i turn cold at the sight of anything hairy
i'd rather touch a snake than cuddle a bunny
i'd rather take the stairs than share a lift with a terrier
i'm a timid banana

i frown often
i flinch in my sleep
Cra is getting on my nerve - buzz off!

i'm an escapism pro
i conveniently forget to wind my antique watch
i gaze past the monstrous wall calender
i despise mirrors

i gabble - a lot
i don't like broken oaths
i vegetate - a lot
i prefer pragmatism to opinionated irrationality

i laugh easily
convulsing over the chair like a tortured hare
i forget easily
my retention capacity will throw a kitchen sieve to shame

i think u suck, cra.
maybe not exactly
but u are bordering suckism

so said, the demented rabbit.

Every little thing counts

2006-02-27T23:00:00.000+08:00

In a heartbeat
the door is closed to yesterday
Between heartbeats
shadows of the day flicker to and fro
Drifting between heartbeats
is the ghost of a smile.

Between heartbeats
little things of beauty
that no one can name
dance and tease
waking up stubborn eyes
to a day worth smiling for

It's past midnight now,
I can follow the flow of heartbeats
till the morrow dawn.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I always think 6 is a magical number.

The Sea of Sunset
by Emily Dickinson

This is the land the sunset washes,
These are the banks of the Yellow Sea;
Where it rose, or whither it rushes,
These are the western mystery!

Night after night her purple traffic Strews the landing with opal bales;
Merchantmen poise upon horizons,
Dip, and vanish with fairy sails.

Why do I love you more
at sunset
when the glory of the day
is fading away
into the unknown?

the tv-chick lit correlation analysis

2006-02-26T17:58:00.000+08:00

Nowadays, even the tube is against me. I never get to catch anything except news, parliament updates, forum discussions and silly idol contests with the woooooh and ahhhhhhhh.

Come on, tubie. I'm really sincere in investing an hr on you. Can't you like churn up something more intriguing other than idol contests?

Even my current fav drama, 9 lives eludes me. With the exception of the debut episode, the closest I've come to watch it is from the miserable 1.5 minute trailers on tv mobile. This is really getting unbecoming of you, tubie.

And hence, I took matters to my own hand which later bec0me a semi-obsession with romance comedy. Movies, books and all. It's a hobby that optimises utility with minimum participation requirements. It's like sitting on an express train, watching a fast-forward, fragmented version of other people's lives. Fragmented because only the happiest moments are hand-picked from the whole and gel together. Scene after scene of bright, dazzling smiles and little heartache here and there. Books stuffed to the brim with pockets of candylike sweetness and excessive pinkness sit on the shelves, flaunting and teasing wandering eyes to take them home. With an ally in the uncooperative tv, it's not too difficult to persuade one to bring the chick lit home.

On closer observation, there's a negative correlation between chick lit and tv programmes. The more drab tv is, the higher the interest in chick lit. Chick lit and tv are neither joint products nor perfect substitutes of each other. Perhaps they are more of a portfolio of risky assets. Risky because excessive consumption of either product causes one to lose sensibility and rationality. However, with careful management and proper calculation of investment ratio, these risky assets are none but harmless, temporary deviations from a more serious course of action.

fragments of random talk

2006-02-25T02:51:00.000+08:00

J: What're you up to tomorrow?
Me: Fixture.
J: You know in medical terms, fixtures are the things we use to connect your broken joints.
Me: In accounting, fixtures are furniture, screws, anything dead.
J: Hmm...my fixtures are metal pieces.
Me: Non-living too. That's the whole idea. Geddit?

Y: What would you want a guy to notice about you at first glance?
Me: I've never put a serious thought to that. But I've set my eyes on my future spouse.
Y: Oh really? And who's that?
Me: An oil sheikh in Middle East.
Y: (rolls eyes) You're probably the only person to think of that.
Me: I know. Doesn't that just give me an upperhand in the game?
Y: You may just be right.
Me: 1. Control the resources and you control wealth and power. What other resource can beat oil? 2. I'd be a scarce commodity in that part of the world. Considering free market mechanisms, my market value will skyrocket. Besides, I've no qualms about the dressing custom. I can hide my unsightly ding-dang from public view in the modest Arabian dress.
Y: You've obviously put some serious thought on this.
Me: (smiles blithely)

S: Would you like to look at our weight management programme? We're providing free BMI tests and consultation.
Me: Actually I'm not interested.
S: But you know, our programme can enhance your body image.
Me: I'm really sorry but I gotta go.
S: Here's my namecard. Please give me a call if you're interested.
Me: (looks at the card) Should I be motivated to change my image, the last person I'd look for is you. (punctuated with a meaningful, murderous glance)
I never get to see the look on the woman's face. But I figure my message hit home.

the word called love.

2006-02-21T23:55:00.000+08:00

Someone said we could grow love like how we nurture a peach tree from seed.

But I said, it's so time consuming and what're the chances of it blooming? What if it never bloom?

We can only watch over the seedling with a prayer. Hoping for a miracle.

Hope. Is that the real reason why we're growing love? The hope that one day the fruit from the tree of love will unfold the secret of love and unroll the map of future. Will our lives be intertwined?

Perhaps the moment of epiphany when we hold the sacred fruit in our palms already justify the wait. Love in the city is a vision that we can all do with.

The City Dictionary. Does the word 'love' still exist in this world?

If we're willing to take a leap and plunge into the unknown; if we're willing to gamble our youth on a seed that may not grow. Then perhaps, the girl above will find love in the myriad of words.

After which, the question is "What is love?" Do you have the answer to that?

Talking thru the nose

2006-02-20T09:18:00.000+08:00

I'm impregnated with words. And no, Natasha. These words are not my own. It's theirs.

As usual, I love browsing through ads. Here's one:

Reinventing sensuality
If you think a pint of Haagen-Dazs is merely candy treat for children, you're quite mistaken. It's a sensual treat for the senses. Haagen-Dazs cleverly equates indulgent sexual attraction with its premium ice-cream to seduce the consumers to eat. Call it food porn if you want. But it is fetching consumer dollars in the cash register. So long as it works - the smart, satisficing approach Herbert Simon made classic.

Just like true love. Without the constant nagging and need for approval.
It's truly exceptional.

Loves you for who you are. A fake blond with a fake nose.
It's truly exceptional.

Other ads include: "I had a one-night stand with a pint of Haagen-Dazs."

That said, it'd be a long time before such ads made headway in this part of the world. I can imagine the frowns and tongues clucking distastefully tsk-tsk. Anyway, I figure most of us have long given our hearts to HD and swear lifetime loyalty to this sinful, luxurious ice-cream.

A tale old as time

2006-02-19T00:30:00.000+08:00

Fairy tales are fabricated from goodness of mankind which cannot be fully replicated in modern reality. Though fairy tales can't be consumed as a staple food, it's a necessary and often pleasing diversionary activity. Against a backdrop of a labyrinth of scarlet roses where an intense profusion of fragrance assail your senses and smooth the sharp edges of rationality and pragmatism, is a bold display of unadulterated beauty and truth as it should be.

It says "cools things to put in your blog" and so I did.

2006-02-17T23:52:00.000+08:00

Your Five Factor Personality Profile

Extroversion:

You have low extroversion.
You are quiet and reserved in most social situations.
A low key, laid back lifestyle is important to you.
You tend to bond slowly, over time, with one or two people.

Conscientiousness:

You have high conscientiousness.
Intelligent and reliable, you tend to succeed in life.
Most things in your life are organized and planned well.
But you borderline on being a total perfectionist.

Agreeableness:

You have medium agreeableness.
You're generally a friendly and trusting person.
But you also have a healthy dose of cynicism.
You get along well with others, as long as they play fair.

Neuroticism:

You have medium neuroticism.
You're generally cool and collected, but sometimes you do panic.
Little worries or problems can consume you, draining your energy.
Your life is pretty smooth, but there's a few emotional bumps you'd like to get rid of.

Openness to experience:

Your openness to new experiences is medium.
You are generally broad minded when it come to new things.
But if something crosses a moral line, there's no way you'll approve of it.
You are suspicious of anything too wacky, though you do still consider creativity a virtue.

The Five Factor Personality Test

Your Career Type: Social

You are helpful, friendly, and trustworthy.
Your talents lie in teaching, nursing, giving information, and solving social problems.

You would make an excellent:

Counselor - Dental Hygienist - Librarian
Nurse - Parole Officer - Personal Trainer
Physical Therapist - Social Worker - Teacher

The worst career options for your are realistic careers, like truck driver or farmer.

What's Your Ideal Career?

You Are Balanced - Realist - Powerful

You feel your life is controlled both externally and internally.
You have a good sense of what you can control and what you should let go.
Depending on the situation, you sometimes try to exert more control.
Other times, you accept things for what they are and go with the flow.

You are a realist when it comes to luck.
You don't attribute everything to luck, but you do know some things are random.
You don't beat yourself up when bad things happen to you...
But you do your best to try to make your own luck.

When it comes to who's in charge, it's you.
Life is a kingdom, and you're the grand ruler.
You don't care much about what others think.
But they better care what you think!

The Three Dimension Luck and Power Test

Your Monster Profile

Insane Nightmare

You Feast On: Tofu

You Lurk Around In: The Alamo

You Especially Like to Torment: Your Evil Twin

What's Your Monster Name?

I love tofu.

Your Superhero Profile

Your Superhero Name is The Magna Midget
Your Superpower is Rapping
Your Weakness is Body odors
Your Weapon is Your Fungal Axe
Your Mode of Transportation is Jet Pack

What's your Superhero Name?

A day in the life of a fixture at RM 2.04

2006-02-17T23:36:00.000+08:00

Hi, the day begins at 10am.
Fixture tries hard to interpret the mess of papers before her/it.
Fixture feeds thrice a day.
Fixture takes secret pleasure in visiting her/its favourite toilet seat 10 times a time to unload 2 litres of waste liquid.
Thereafter, fixture finds excuses to visit the toilet seat. Can't live without the toilet. Even the toilet rolls (without black fine print and diagrams) are cute.
Fixture thinks she/it is growing into a mushroom.
Fixture waves goodbye at 9pm.
Fixture goes into hibernate mode shortly after midnight and dreams of animated monopoly graphs, the AIDA model, crap cashflow and Robert House's Path-Goal theory.
Fixture apparently does not sleep well.
8am sharp tomorrow and sunday too.
Fixture operates 7 days a week.

Signed,
Fixture Pathetician
Resident of RM 2.04

Tonight we celebrate love

2006-02-14T23:42:00.000+08:00

For those who found love; for those whom love elude. For the love from yesteryear; for the love yet to come; for the love embracing the present.

Cheers.

2006-02-13T23:13:00.000+08:00

so fragile, thinner than a wisp of silver thread, aren't you?

The result of being 'system rejected'

2006-02-13T22:03:00.000+08:00

The school decided to launch a electronic registration gimmick that seems to be only capable of kicking earnest applicants out of the system. People wrestled their way into the ring. Some got thrown out by the neck before they steadied their feet.

Today the 'rejects' marched valiantly to the portal, keeping a watchful eye onto the clock. When I squeezed my way into the system, I almost fell off my chair in helpless laughter. Look at the pathetic slots left for us, poor rejects. Hardly worth a fight.

I mean, who in the world (if they still have something called a brain) would want to fight for sunday classes and weekday night classes?

Nuts.

P.S. I finally get to see the school on sundays. Yeah -_-

2006-02-08T23:42:00.000+08:00

It's ever so hard to turn down an earnest person, no matter how busy/distracted/frustrated/exhausted I am. Am I wrong to say yes and walk out of the agreement later?

I'm tired.

This time it's real.

Change me - Make Poverty History

2006-02-08T22:37:00.000+08:00

Change Me is an open conversation that brings people together to share ideas through powerful imagery.

Simply find an image that inspires you and use it to express an idea that has the ability to touch or affect the person viewing it.

If selected, your image/idea may appear as part of a global travelling exhibition and be published in a book.

For each submission, Getty Images will donate US$10 to ONE: The Campaign to Make Poverty History - which helps raise awareness about the crisis of extreme poverty and AIDS.

Join the worldwide discussion at Getty Images today.

For s* and all bruised, lost souls.

2006-02-08T01:27:00.000+08:00

You're still you by Josh Groban

Through the darkness
I can see your light
And you will always shine
And I can feel your heart in mine
Your face I've memorized
I idolize just you

I look up to
Everything you are
In my eyes you do no wrong
I've loved you for so long
And after all is said and done
You're still you
After all
You're still you

You walk past me
I can feel your pain
Time changes everything
One truth always stays the same
You're still you
After all
You're still you

I look up to
Everything you are
In my eyes you do no wrong
And I believe in you
Although you never asked me to
I will remember you
And what life put you through

And in this cruel and lonely world
I found one love
You're still you
After all
You're still you

sentenced.

2006-02-08T00:29:00.000+08:00

On the way to school this morning, I saw a middle-aged blind man walking towards my direction. Could he be walking towards the bus stop? A small voice asked. Felt an urge to run up and give him a hand. But my legs hesitated. A second passed. Two. Three, the man made a left turn at the junction, away from the bus-stop. I was still there, unmoved. An indignant voice in my head said, "See? He wasn't coming your way. Don't get all guilt-stricken. Besides, he looks familiar with the roads here."

Turned my head away for the briefest second and from the corner of my eye, the man walks towards me. Again. No, it's two men walking hand in hand. A tall, broad-shouldered man held the blind man protectively on the arm and steered him carefully towards the bus stop. The bus arrived.

I clambered clumsily up the bus and my eyes immediately darted towards the vacant seat at the back. When I raised my head again, from the back of the bus, the man boarded the bus slowly and sat at the designated green seats, his face towards mine, again.

I forced myself to look out of the window, observing blocks of mundane flats with unusual interest. Talking animated to a passenger next to him, the cheerful man probably didn't know across the bus is a person who had watched him made a wrong turn. A coward who sought refuge at a dark corner instead of giving him a hand up the steps of the bus. A person who glanced at the front seat long after alighting.

My heart feels...No, I don't have a heart.

On bent knees, the accused pleads guilty.

On a noisy wagon.

2006-02-02T00:59:00.000+08:00

On the second day of Chinese New Year, behind the wheel is a multi-tasking Mummy who has to

keep a close lookout for Uncle's car.
navigate on unfamiliar roads.
steer clear of speedsters speeding 180km/h. These youngsters came in throngs, mind you. Manoeuvring between the three lanes and screeching their way up front. It was a miracle that their overworked car tyres didn't drop out in protest.
Mum: "Look at these youngsters. Only the old ones are driving at sensible speed."
Me: "That explains why they are still driving on the road (and not lying somewhere else)."
concentrate admist the kopitiam football chitchat and noisy kids games. What do you get when you have two football punters together? Deafening noise with spits, sensational exclaimations of wins and dismaying losses, self-justifying accusations at the team manager, goalie and striker, all thrown in disarray. It puts you on 1-week football abstinence and you go into hysterics at the briefest mention of foobol.
calm her nerves and pretend she's cruising around the neighbourhood alone.
check that I was dilligently jotting down the directions and prominent landmarks. Mum didn't have to worry about my efficiency at that point. It was really quite impossible to doze off in the midst of a lively post-foobol match commentary and 4 kids + 1 teen playing some highly audible children games. For your information, we had 9 people on our roomy MPV aka bread van aka barney's bus.

2006 lunar new year has deviated from our usual routine. The angpao revenue wasn't spectacular but little things have made my cny unexpectedly meaningful.

New year's eve was a frentic rush - to digest the sumptuous food in time for the next meal - which is only 2 hours away. I had on average 3 full-course meals in 6 hrs. This glutton act started from saturday and only came to an official close yesterday, spanning over 4 delightful days. My girth has [thus] expanded generously to a middle-age spread.

The most memorable event is having reunion dinner with shifu. I still feel guilty for not emptying my stomach fast enough to fully show my appreciation for shifu's homemade vegetarian cuisine.

Happy Chinese New Year (or happy public holidays if you prefer)!

double-take

2006-01-25T01:51:00.000+08:00

During dinner, J mentioned a friend, s* was contemplating suicide. Her thin wrists are mutilated with vile-looking scars. J looked so grave that I joked halfheartedly that surely cuts made on the underside of the palm are rather feeble attempts at suicide. Later in the showers, I thought about s* and concluded that death is not a foolproof 'get it off my back' solution. What will happen to you after you've passed through the black veil to the passage no one knows? There's no orientation courses for the afterlife to prep or industry experts to speak to. I mean, death is leaving a mess behind for a greater mess beyond but this time, you're doing it alone. There's no family, friends, shrinks or anyone at all you can turn to. Well, maybe there are but we won't know for sure, would we? Everything has a begining and an end. I don't believe that people or animals and bugs for that matter, fizzle into nothingness when they move on. Hence, a person still has to account for his or her actions unlike the free & easy solution suicide suggested. Furthermore, ending your life for a split moment's of setback is a poor way of repaying your parents, friends and everyone who have loved you.

I know i'm in no position to judge s* but i hope that the greater powers will bless her and save her soul.

2006-01-23T22:49:00.000+08:00

Today is one of the days where everything goes wrong from the moment you rolled off from the wrong side of bed. It's a miracle I managed to toddle back at all. Oh man.

Hope tomorrow will be kinder.

Blogger Relaunch

2006-01-16T09:18:00.000+08:00

Hello world.

First lesson: Learning to create destiny

2006-01-15T20:24:00.000+08:00

I'm much happier than I ever had in the past two weeks.

Do you believe in changing your destiny? I'm learning how.

Arsenal crushed Middlesbrough by 7-0. Henry was King of the day with a hat trick under his belt and not to mention a delightful repertoire of sublime free-kicks. Since the begining of this season, no one not even Chelsea had delivered so many goals in a single match. Arsenal played so hard to please their fans last night. Lehmann made two fantastic saves while chewing gum. The camera man caught him winking to his team-mates saying something vaguely like, "Piece of cake." Lol. It was indeed a piece of cake.

Sol Campbell was sidelined with injury but not to worry, Ashley Cole is back! And the ineffective, clumsy, jellyfeet Pascal Cygan is either injured or sitting on the bench. Of which in any case is good news for us fans!

I wished Patrick Viera can be a gunner again. Neither HLeb nor Flamini has the calibre or speed to be justified as an equal to Viera in the midfield. Btw HLeb sucks.

Just because.

2006-01-08T20:28:00.000+08:00

On a particular Friday afternoon which began as 'one of those days', I decided to spend a few minutes of borrowed privacy in a public toilet cubicle. The crazy ideas my mind can conjure just go beyond my understanding. Since the toilet was in a mild, pleasant condition, it wasn't altogether a very difficult twenty minutes to kill except between the time I latched the door shut and washed my hands with a pungent antiseptic handwash, I felt bitter. Very bitter.

Sitting on the toilet seat and staring into the nothingness, taking in brief snatches of gossips and gripes and understanding none, I contemplated my future, my present.

Sadly, there wasn't much to think about.

From the moment of my birth, life is a struggle. After twenty-one years of struggle, what is it all for?

For a better, happier future?

If the present is any measure of my future, I can't find a glimpse of happiness in the shroud surrounding my small sphere.

The Lunar New Year is coming in three weeks' time. But I can't find a reason or even brace a heartfelt laughter to celebrate it.

In the silence of long nights and numbness of sleep, I find refuge.

Amidst the chaos of the day, the silence of the night is a scarce luxury and comforting warmth. Away from the scrutiny of watchful eyes, my mind roams free and wild. It's these fantansies that keep me sane and suitably civilised for urban life. However, even the fantansies are fading away from my grasp. Like the fabric of a little life I've woven, my fictitious world is coming apart.

I don't believe in miracles, no more.

Dreams? These are only mind tricks for children.

There is only one reality in this world.

And I hate every moment of it.

Looking for a life saver

2006-01-07T15:18:00.000+08:00

People like to talk about feel-good stories where lucky souls are saved. From an abused relationship, a shattered family, a bruised history, a slave-driving boss, a starved and malnourished life, a house with a leaking roof, manipulative friends, a broken-down car on the highway. Sayuri was saved by the man of her childhood infatuations, the Chairman. Corrinne May was saved by her husband, I figure.

Me? I'm trapped in my own ghost memories.

I wish to be saved too.

Save Me by Corrinne May

I drift I burn, I fly
When you sing lullabies
I'm helpless, I'm yearning
I'm like putty in your hands

I laugh, I dream, I cry
When you take me on a rollercoaster ride
You see me through and through
You see just who I am
Just take my hand and

Save me from this place
Heaven knows I'm falling
For you, my sweet embrace
Heaven knows
Heaven knows I've been waiting for you

I had a dream that I
Was falling from the sky
At 90 miles an hour
I was bound to crash and die
But out of nowhere you came and rescued me
There must be some grace in the touch of your face
I'm so happy that I've found you
I'm no longer afraid

Oh 'cause you
Save me from this place
Heaven knows I'm falling
For you my sweet embrace
Heaven knows
Heaven knows I've been waiting

Before I met you
Life was slow-mo
So slow-mo
I thought I had it figured out
But you came and turned my whole world upside down

Save me from this place
Heaven knows I'm falling
For you, my sweet embrace
Heaven knows
Heaven knows you've come to

Save me from this place
Heaven knows I'm falling
For you, my sweet embrace
Heaven knows
Heaven knows I've been waiting for you
Waiting for you

School!

2006-01-02T22:57:00.000+08:00

Another 13 more hrs and it'll be Christopher's first day at primary school! Can't wait to troop down to dear old Marsiling with Christopher :)

I can almost imagine the clusters of anxious parents giving last minute reminders to their children who at the moment are listening out for other little voices in the canteen and making mental notes to check out the field for spiders during recess. Of course, there would be even more anxious parents hushing little kids who are overwhelmed rather than awed by the unfamiliarity of a new school.

After some 13 years, I'm back again to the begining of my learning journey except I'm reliving my past through the eyes of my brother. There's some element of nostalgia certainly and an awful lot of mad rushing between lectures and picking Christopher up from school. It's certainly going to be a crazy week. But I'm glad to share in the excitement and anticipation and be part of this significant event in my brother's life.

跃进2006之感言

2005-12-30T10:06:00.000+08:00

In my less than glorifying bc habitat, I pondered over the merits and demerits I can report from 2005. No no, it was not one hella hair-raising ride or a bed of roses. It has been a quirky year in which I've wished nothing out of the ordinary would disrupt the peaceful momenturn I've built into my life and at the same time, harboured a secret hope that something exciting would fizzle up a day of my little life like potassium meets water.

I'm a capricious creature.

人生是一个过程，可悲的是它不能重来，可喜的是它不需要重来。

Moving out.

2005-12-18T21:00:00.000+08:00

Truly trapped people know they are. Know they must content themselves with food, water, and a shelter because they cannot claim a life. And having none, seldom dream of flight. Fed with the wondrous stories of brave adventurers who found gold in a river across the border, the trapped people discover they are at the frontier where final exit and total escape are the only journeys left.

The longing to leave becomes acute, and a break from the present, is necessarily dream-bitten but necessary nonetheless. It might be an appetite for other streets, other slants of light. Or a yearning to be surrounded by strangers. It may even be a wish to hear the solid click of a door closing behind their backs.

The only real freedom there is.

I caught the Chelsea bug.

2005-12-18T20:50:00.000+08:00

The latest addition to my altar of football idols - Frank Lampard. Shame that he's engaged (or so I thought).

Chelski Monopoly

2005-12-12T23:49:00.000+08:00

Last updated: 11 December 2005 18:04

Chelsea just finished last week on a high with a victorious 1-0 win over Wigan whereas Arsenal is nursing a fresh wound from a 1-0 loss to Newcastle. Separated by a great gulf of 17 points, Henry has lots to figure out by Friday. The dominion of Chelsea has reached a saturation point where few would get any kick from betting its win or loss. I fear for the Gunners this coming weekend.

Rumours that Ferguson would soon face the axe from the Glazers are flying off the news stands. As much as I dislike the man, I respect his brilliant strategies. It's unfortunate that the Glazers seem to have forgotten the Devils Empire Ferguson has built after a humiliating Champion League campaign. Unlike Roman Abramovich who is passionate about Chelski and willing to go to all ends to make Chelski shine, the Glazers are profit-maximising investors whose primary priorities are ticket sales and sponsorship.

The days of glory are over for some of the epl signature figures. I wonder what would be the score disparity between the winner and first runner-up come next May when the season ends. I won't be surprised if it's a substantial double digit number

The Spirit of Christmas

2005-12-12T23:26:00.000+08:00

I have a list of people I know
All written in a book
And every year at Christmas time
I go and take a look
And that is when I realise
That those names are a part
Not of the book they're written in
But of my very heart
For each name stands for someone
Who has crossed my path some time
And in that meeting they've become
A treasured friend of mine
And once you've met some people
The years can not erase
The memory of a pleasant word
Or a friendly face
So when I send a Christmas card
That is addressed to you
It's because you're on that list
Of folk I'm indebted to
And you are one of many folk who
In times past I've met
And happen to be one of those
I don't want to forget
And whether I have known you for
Many years or few
In some way you have a part in
Shaping things I do
This, the spirit of Christmas, that
Forever and ever endures
May it leave it richest blessing
In the hearts of you and yours.

by Annoymous

It's December, at last.

2005-12-12T21:18:00.000+08:00

After two years, I'm finally the proud owner of The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Well, almost since J has cleverly stashed the book away and I'm simply too bone tired to tear the room apart. =/

The once-in-a-blue-moon vanity indulgence to conceal the conspicuous odds and ends of my messed up life and to discover some excitement from that mind boggling mess.

Thirteen days to Christmas. I think I've been a good enough girl this year. Would Santa come by and fill up the stocking of an over-aged girl?

I've Managerial Econs on 23rd till 5pm. Gross.

When good manners are not loved

2005-12-07T09:16:00.000+08:00

The worst way of crying off a relationship: thank your woman with excessive courtesy and faux sincerity.

"I'm signing this note with as much as gratitude. Thank you."

Instead of a time-out, you may very well end up stuck deeper in the rut with a weapon-wielding raging ex-lover greeting you at every turn and corner.

SpeedTouch Revival

2005-12-06T10:51:00.000+08:00

I, The most sotongenous computer toot S-A-V-E-D SpeedTouch!

Oh Speedy, I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you!

Sabbatical from blogging

2005-12-02T11:24:00.000+08:00

I've missed you dearly, bloggie. The demise of my faithful home wireless network exarcebated by head-to-head deadlines and the occasional dose of conflicts amount to an involuntary sabbatical from blogging.

Because I can't access online news coverage, Prime Time Morning on the Mobile TV takes priority over my preferred commuter-recreation -- sleeping. Fortunately, Suzanne Jung and Steven are charming presenters.

Another unexpected finding, McDonald's is not that bad after all. I agree Big M is rightfully accused of over-feeding kids all over the world and creating a new generation of baby whales who thrive on hot, tasty, greasy meat but the heartless capitalistic Mr McDonald gives us free wireless internet access! I can't find any fault with that extra perk. Not when

I don't favour fast food.
I need to do research.
I'm a cheapskate who plainly refuse to pay for internet access.
Belkin cry off on me and ban my IP. Selfish Belkin. Why don't you just lock up your network instead of peddling the deceptive & fictitious tag 'unsecured wireless network'? Idiot Belkin.

I've been looking forward to this weekend for the past two weeks. Need a break. Cock-and-bull movies will suit me very well. Had a quick laugh over "Just from Heaven" last weekend. Romance comedies never fail to humour me. laugh laugh laugh

Post Grudge

2005-11-25T01:03:00.000+08:00

i threw a temper because it felt stuffy
i snubbed J because i felt it was justified
fact is i was being a stupid arse.

Comic satire

2005-11-23T17:18:00.000+08:00

In case you've noticed or wondered why...

2005-11-22T01:12:00.000+08:00

My blog has gone through a mad skin-changing frenzy over the past few days. The reason is simple: I don't know what I want either. I thought the previous Jimmy Liao template in its glaring pink glory was the perfect fit for my blog for me until I realise it was a disastrous misfit.

The design is simply too cheerful and kiddish to reflect my true character. I'd be doing Xiaoyu (the designer) a great disservice if I persist in using the pink template. I need a more mature look for my blog with clean lines, soothing colours and simplistic layout. And tha-la!

I might tweak the template and play around with the html when I get too bored with my professional calling. But changes will be minimal and minor. The future of my tagboard is tentatively unknown. This design is set to last for a substantial time. Blog renovation is simply too tiring and tedious a task for daily pursuing.

Starry Night Ad by Soo Kee Jewellery

2005-11-22T01:08:00.000+08:00

You probably have seen this lovely ad on TV. It's a personal fav of mine at the moment. The retelling a dream as a child and a grown-up is possibly one the oldest tricks in the world but it works on me, unfortunately. Love the intensity in the eyes. I wonder if the star will fall onto my palm as an unpolished diamond in its spectacular raw beauty - a gift from heaven - if I stare long enough at the solitary star.

Pictures courtesy of sookee.com

When reality gets too near for comfort

2005-11-22T00:45:00.001+08:00

Fresh from Nike news vault: "Have a big butt, thunder thighs & tomboy knees? You are real."

Inspired by Dove's highly successful 'real women, real beauty, real brand' marketing compaign, youth-obsessed Nike who has made a tennis catwalk queen out of Serena Williams with glaring designer gear that sizzles and blings, decides to push the limits of convention and get real, for once.

Tennis Court-ure

Devilish in a denin mini and knee-length boots

Serena Williams' answer to Wimbledon's wear 'almost entirely white or risk disqualification' rule.

Though Venus Williams is Reebok's tennis glamour queen, I simply got to feature the white corset-style tennis dress she co-designed with American designer, Diane von Furstenberg in 2003.

We all love fashion fresh from the runway but frankly, not many can carry off a Dior number with as much glam as Heidi Klum.

And Nike thinks I've a fabulous point here.

What Story Does Your Body Tell?

Big Butt

Thunder Thighs

Tomboy Knees

The ads are undeniably punchy with an irresistable sense of defiance and individualism. It's just an inch away from oozing with coolness. The downside is the butt looks really toned and nice. Girls usually avoid running because of the possible trade-off of bigger, muscular thighs for flabby thighs. But it's such a shame to shun off running altogether because of that.

It's no surprise that atheletic women tend to have more developed muscles than the average woman. That however, doesn't make them less beautiful. There're varied definitions of beauty besides the prevailing universal beauty ideal (slim + youth = beauty) which is unreasonably narrow and rigid.

I'll rather have larger, healthy women than bone-skinny, anorexic girls. At least I know the former will have a happier and longer life-span. In the USA, 25 million women and 1 million men are fighting a life-and-death battle with eating disorders - an unnessary ordeal that can be avoided if the media giants are more realistic and socially responsible.

"My butt is big, so's my mother's butt, my grandmother's butt, and my grandmother's mother's butt. It's in the genes. So I joined a gym, and my butt got really toned. From what I understand it is secretly worshipped by the girls who hang around the butt machine..." Just do it. While it's unclear whether this 'real woman' wave marks a shift in societal mindset or a mere clever marketing fab, expect more big companies to jump on the bandwagon.

However, I have deep reservations about Dove's latest "Campaign for Real Beauty" stunt. The 'real' women they chose look explicitly freckled but undeniably cute, greying but looking incredible for her age, flat-chested but very, very attractive - in short, these women are not representative of the lesser-blessed female population! I'll bite my own toe if these 'real women' did not have a glamour treatment. Besides it's hopelessly ironic that Dove is telling women that they should revel in their own natural beauty and selling thigh-firming creams and anti-ageing solutions at the same time. Under the superfluous, clever taglines, the ultimate message is all but "Buy Dove to redeem your natural beauty".

Campaign for Real Beauty

The billboard ad that got us staring. Real women have real curves.

A breathtakingly glamourous, albeit, older woman.

The first thought that comes to mind when I saw this ad is "She looks really hip and charming!" "Boyish" never strike home. I was not far from the truth, this captivating Thai Dove model is the proud owner of a bar in Thailand.

You can't have it all in life. Look at Stefanie Sun.

The American Dove girl for "Flawed? Flawless?"

Though I don't buy Dove's 'real beauty' campaign wholeheartedly, it's nonetheless a positive cultural shift in societal perception. However, a person whether fat or slim, pretty or ugly, clever or dull, rich or impoverished, have a right to aspire. Many of us are guilty of declaring "We hate those unjustified photoshopped ads", "What's XX thinking of when they get 20-year-old girls peddling anti-wrinkle cream to us?!" But look at what we spend on and how much goes into these "unjustified" expenditure.

I don't like Gisele Bundchen but I want to be like her. I don't like Amber Chia but it won't hurt to have a body as streamlined as hers. Subconsciously, these conflicting thoughts trade blows inside our 'black box'. We are inherently irrational. We make impulsive and emotional purchases. Reality ads assuage our grievances with its honesty but does it leave enough freedom for us to dream?

Try to recall the sweet pleasure and the drive of powerful motivation we grow up with, dreaming of the imaginary Tiffany or the sexy Porsche. How would life have been if people told you otherwise? Stop dreaming and accept the takings from the dinner table, be it a Taka imported-from-China diamond ring or a Honda.

Personally, I would feel deprived from my rights as a person to aspire.

Every seller in the market sells a dream. Singapore Pools with their 3 million jackpot for the one-in-a-zillionth lucky chap. Osim promises a Fiona Seah abdomen with uZap. Universities try to outdo each other with claims of more superior education and state-of-the-art facilities. Pharmaceutical companies bombard us with increasingly complex and seemingly more powerful health supplements under the tag of "Our health supplements can give you extra protection and let you live happier and longer with your loved ones."

"People are living lives of desperation; they don't want to be themselves." - Gerald Celente

Pictures courtesy of nikewomen.com, style.com, USAToday.com, campaignforrealbeauty.com

Long live King Henry

2005-11-20T15:43:00.000+08:00

Henry stole 3 points right underneath Wigan's nose last evening at the JJB Stadium . Yeah! The full-time score was Wigan 2-3 Arsenal. All five goals were scored in the first half which gives an average of 1 goal in every 9 minutes. The goal of the match definitely has to be Henry's free-kick. It was superb. But I got to give credit to Wigan. They pull off an admirable performance.

Shame that I sneaked off to sleep at 8pm when the TV downstairs roared with action.

Other heart-pulsing matches worth mentioning:

Chelsea 3-0 Newcastle (Before you screamed blue murder, Michael Owen and Alan Shearer, sidelined with injuries, did not play in this match. Owen better recovered in time for the show-down match with Liverpool.)

Charlton 1-3 Man Utd (Just goes to show that the Roy Keane Effect had been over-exaggerated for the past 10 years. )

Stayhome weekends

2005-11-18T07:04:00.000+08:00

Dec 18, 2005: Arsenal (H) vs Chelsea
Give the arrogant Mourinho the humble pie, Henry! I hate to admit this, Frank Lampard is cute. (ducks under the bed)

Dec 26, 2005: Liverpool (H) vs Newcastle
This is the do or break trial for Michael Owen - to return to his childhood club as an opponent (after a lacklustre season at Real Madrid to boot). At least with Owen on board, the magpies won't have to worry losing their way in Anfield, that's provided Owen don't stumble to the Home Team dressing room instead. Fingers crossed the Kopites won't gear up a 90-minute 'boo owen' chant. Owen is a nice boy, after all.

Jan 3, 2006: Arsenal (H) vs Man Utd
Honestly, I don't get much kick from watching Man Utd nowadays. They haven't seem to find their winning strategy. Maybe it's because I don't like the foul-tempered Rooney or I find their struggling formation laughable. In any case, this fixture is still worth my attention. Because the aim of both teams is not to outbeat or out-talk each other but to charge at Chelsea. Very soon, Mourinho's face will be pasted everywhere from diapers to bowls and mugs. Yes, Mourinho would become a brand except he's not too particular about where his name is found. Guffaws

A little something she'll love

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

Sinful indulgence. Touch me if you dare.

Personality: Marilyn Manroe. A clever temptress - tantalising, sexy and faraway from reach.

The Pink Ascent exudes coveted prestige and sinful luxury. Precious jeweled ruby bearings are embedded under each key. Instead of the typical synthetic plastic covers served by other cellphone makers, the Ascent is beautifully clothed in authentic pink leather. A conspicuous V logo and subtle "Limited Edition" label placed strategically on the back of the phone, are guaranteed to evoke green jealousy from your high tea friends. Carry the pink Ascent for that involutary gasp from admirers.

Retailing at SGD 8800 with a two-year contract, purchase is "by appointment only".

Adore me.

Personality: Agnès b. Sophisticated, eclectic, simple, funky and unmistakeably fashionable.

L'Amour is a stylish trio, standing outside of the hype of fashion. When others are flaunting their sleek figures in an arrogant swagger, L'Amour chooses to foster a feel-good factor with a nature-inspired design. The phone appeals to women's spiritual and physical senses with an embossed leather in soft colours of brown, caramel and tan. The graceful flowery designs are endearing and delightful. L'Amour embraces women with an elusive, untainted feminism. A handset definitely worth looking out for next year.

Zesty. Racy. Living on the edge.

Personality: Maria Sharapova (Who else? She's the latest celebrity spokesperson at Club MOTO.) Uber-cool, sleek and attention grabbing.

The Pink MotoRAZR is the new Black in town. It's slim and mean - the thinnest phone in the current market. And it's also exclusive. It's no coincidence that these pink handsets are touted with a 'limited edition' tag. Women love to be pampered with attention, reserved for the exclusive few. The Pink RAZR woman is a cosmopolitan, savvy woman who chases achievements with the same fervour as she has for Manolos, Miu Miu and Chanel No. 5. The loud hot pink is perfect. Who wants a boring, ubiquitous silver mobile phone anyway?

2005-11-07T11:52:00.000+08:00

I need...

Sleep.
Single-mindedness and a blind eye to visual distractions for (1) to materialise.
To organise all the stray ends
An alarm clock that can thunder through my head thick with sleep.
Nuclear batteries to enable (4).
Exercise. After a decadent week of public holidays, I've developed a conspicuous flab.
More sleep so I have the spare energy to remember pointers 2 to 6.
(Continued) Concealer to mask the overwhelming '100% natural' smoky eyeshadow on my eyelids.
Think before I act. I embarassed myself thoroughly today. Hit me.

I would want to...

Watch a serious game of football. Chelsea (finally) lost 1-0 Man Utd last night. After Everton put Chelsea straight in mid-week, Chelsea seems to be pulling off an Arsenal, starting to lose after an irrational winning streak with the backing of a billionaire owner and cocky manager. But I gotta credit Mourinho for his blinded confidence and sheer arrogance. He made Arsene Wenger and Ferguson look like docile school boys.
Get to school now. And finish up this list soon ( only god knows when).
(continued) Get out of school. Because school sucks. Oh Friday, where art thou?

Talk the body talk

2005-10-29T15:28:00.000+08:00

Calculators
BMI calculator
BMR calculator
Body Fat calculator
Waist to Hip Ratio calculator

Thin Desires & Fat Realities
from the Singapore Medical Journal

Catchy bits:

"Even the Japan Sumo Association has started fat testing for the first time in the 2000-year-old sport."

"Popular actresses Fann Wong, Ann Kok and Zoe Tay have a body mass index of 17.1, 17.1 and 17.4 respectively."

"The corresponding "average" Singapore Chinese female of the same height and age range (based on weight for height reference charts for Singapore) would have a BMI of 19.5, 19.9 and 19.7 respectively. "

"53% of females and 28% of males wanted to be thinner "

"As early as 6 - 7 years old, 42% of girls preferred body figures thinner than their own."

"more studies than not show higher rates of eating disorders, body dissatisfaction and dieting behaviour in Caucasians (compared to Black or Asian)" (We're safe.)

" 'Push factors' stem from societal perception of the undesirability of fatness and 'pull factors' from the desirability of thinness. Society gives the message that fat people should not be taken seriously"

"Advertisements conjure up an illusion of quick, effective and lasting weight loss. The reality of dismally low long-term success rates create further pressure in an increasingly heavier society. "

"fat is no longer just a feminist issue. It is a personal, familial and societal issue cutting through all strata of society. Ideas of beauty, desirability, thinness and fatness have to some extent become 'universal' with our modern day ease of communication."

For a story of geographical & time-specific influences on body image, check out Harvard Medical School WebWeekly

Make-A-Wish Come True

2005-10-27T20:32:00.000+08:00

The Make-A-Wish Foundation grants wishes of children challenged by life-threatening illness or a life-threatening medical condition. Make a donation to encourage these brave children or volunteer personally as a wish granter. :)

I love sad songs.

2005-10-27T02:30:00.000+08:00

Almost Over You
Sheena Easton

(Rated as one of the "Best Country Breakup Songs")

I saw an old friend of our's today

She asked about you, I didn't quite know what to say
heard you've been making the rounds 'round here
while I've been trying to make tears disappear

Chorus:
Now I'm almost over you
I've almost shook these blues
so when you come back around
after painting the town
you'll see I'm almost over you...

you're such a sly one with a cold cold heart
maybe leavin' came easy, but it tore me apart
time heals all wounds they say and I should know
coz it seems like forever,
but I'm letting you go

(chorus)

I can forgive you and soon I'll forget all my shattered dreams
although you left me with nothing to show
but all misery

( chorus )

when you come back around, after painting the town,
you'll see I'm almost over you...

How to help others out of unhappiness without forsaking your own happiness

2005-10-27T02:12:00.000+08:00

An excerpt from Awakening a Kind Heart by Ven. Sangye Khadro:

"When it comes to helping someone who is suffering mentally, even greater wisdom and skill are required...With compassion we listen to his outpour of grief and anger, sympathise him with what he's going through and offer kind words to console him. But it would not be right to think that we must solve his problem for him, or to become as depressed and angry as he is. Instead, we should use our wisdom and skillful means to help him come to terms with his problem."

If we can balance compassion with wisdom, he will feel better and we will be able to walk away without carrying his problem on our shoulders. (Paraphrased)

That was a fair attempt at a mordant dig but too bad it didn't work.

2005-10-20T22:29:00.000+08:00

I wish to believe in the essential, hidden goodness of people. I tried very hard but some people persist in their myopic, unjustified, negative attitude towards others. Thus, resulting in them being highly unlikeable and me getting momentarily annoyed.

However, I won't waste my energy charging up a bull of anger on these people. It's just satorical that I was predicted to fail all my core modules and doomed to a fate of repeat student. Some educators are just so amazingly pessimistic of their students' prospects, don't you agree?

Stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of people

2005-10-14T00:12:00.000+08:00

Darsh and I trooped down to Little India on a whim. Deepavali was approaching and D suggested checking out the celebratory spirit in the heart of Serangoon. True enough, there were a sizeable crowd along the streets but most were bypassers, commuters, people working in the area rather than cheerful, jolly shoppers. Quite a spirit damper. Nevertheless, the lightings in the shape of white elephants and giant flowers sprinkle rays of vivid vibrance and energy on the narrow streets. Time seems to have stopped for this little stretch of road. Stocked to the ceiling with troves of merchandise, the shops were built in colonial style with a narrow walkway. Dazzling gold jewellery, fresh vegetable stalls, textile shops and CD stores are ubiquitous.

On the subject of textile, it's worth mentioning that the mannequin were reminiscent of eerie dolls from movie flicks. They wear the same blank look, the crop of unruly hair and an unrealistic barbie doll figure with a tiny waist. Some battery operated mannequin can even move their hands! I guess business will be more brisk if the shopkeepers change those blankfaced lifesized dolls for more subdued alternatives. Kate Moss may have popularised the gaunt, blank look in the 1980s wearing just a pair of Calvins but then, it's Kate Moss. Those dolls spook the living lights out of timid shoppers like me!

Secondly, I can never fathom why Bollywood can on hand, produce classic beauties like Rai and generate leagues of belly flaying uncle muthus shaking their bon bon in music videos. They are a complete juxtaposition of each other. D laughed when I presented my analysis of the current Bollywood scene. Those two people are indeed polar opposites on the same continuum. Well-shaped Indian celebs are from the glamourous, Hollywood-inspired Bollywood. Uncle Muthu is the head of Kollywood - the C-grade imitation of Bollywood. Now that makes sense.

I stuck out like a sore thumb at Serangoon and I half-joked to D that she's my protection charm. The girl gave a shrug and said she's as alien as I am. She can barely speak tamil to save her neck and she's as Indian as I'm a Maori.

Dinner was Indian vegetarian cuisine. I'm a newly converted weekday vegetarian and D was nice to accomodate my food preferences. After witnessing three embroyoes attached to a fallopian tube on a piece of chicken, I've lost all cravings for chicken. Pork has an acrid smell whereas I abstain from red meat. The only meat I eat sparingly on the weekend is fish. Coming back to Indian food, it's served in large portions, tremendously filling and full of carbohydrates. D said what we have are modest portions of the usual portions served to some other customers. Goodness! I had yogurt rice (with grapes, peas & carrots), nasi briyani, curry vegetable, spicy pickles and a mini flour doughnut. I only managed half a doughnut, a few scoops of rice, cleared the veggie and I was bursting at the seams. I confessed my plate looked untouched but the starch is so overwhelming!

Recounting the food I've eaten in the day after popping a listerine, I realised those carbo are no ordinary carbo. Before dinner, I only had coffee, two slices of wholemeal bread with cheese, a veggie pau and an energy bar. And I woke up at 5.40am to boot. The carbo still feel undigested now. =/

On a more somber note, D commented I should be very proud of myself. I didn't think too deep into it but if truth is to be spoken, I was estastic because the monetary strength of the scholarship will alleviate the financial burden on my parents. That is the primary reason I applied for the scholarship. As for being proud of myself, that's secondary. I guess it's justified to say the unhappy past that has haunted me is finally released. I'm free. Am I proud of myself? I suppose yes, I am.

I GOT THE SCHOLARSHIP!!!!!!!

2005-10-13T08:08:00.000+08:00

I exploded precisely at 7.40am, Thur, 13 Oct 2005. Witness: Jacqueline.

Jacq handed me the thin SIM envelope. My heart did a double take. I reached out for it with gurgling anxiety. Thin envelopes at this critical month only mean two things - IN or OUT of scholarship.

I tore the envelope with trembling fingers. Those fingers shook the most when you need them to be dexterous and quick. First word, Congrations! My heart skipped a beat.

I am pleased to inform you that your application for the SIM Scholarship is successful.

I cried for god after the punctuation. Hopped around regardless of the number of shaking ceilings of the residents beneath. Exclaimed in disbelief over and over again despite Jacq standing near, thinking I've gone demented. It's quite an irony, Jacq is the first one to know I got a scholarship. LOL. Talk about fate and destiny.

Now: 8.15 am I swear I'm composed. I've sang the last chorus of Westlife's "Fool Again". Don't ask me why I chose that song. Two explanations I can offer: 1. It's one of the most cheesy songs I can sing off heart. 2. My brain is in complete disarray. Whatever song that comes up in the music jukebox tucked in my brain, I will SCREAM it out LOUD.

Lovely Thursday. And I'm going out with a dear jc classmate after school too! A celebration just in time!!! I really love god (When I say god, I meant the Taoist gods.) and Buddha for their generous blessings.

Thank you list:

1. Mummy - For helping me search for a business suit & graciously sponsor my full attire & loaning her Burberry tote to me (Though I returned it before using it after thinking I had been eliminated.) And force me to really think hard on my vision. Thanks to mummy, I had one now! And it's solid as the Gibraltar! hee

2. Father - For encouragement & concern. He never thinks for a second that I won't make it.

3. Joanne - She read ALL my essays. And judging from the near 60 pages portfolio I submitted, she did quite a fair amount of editing, giving valuable inputs, poking fun at silly mistakes & the final OK signal.

On top of that, she's my voice & decorum training coach. As mentioned in the previous post Penguin Says Quack Quack Quack, I can't even balance my butt on the chair with my legs tucked to the side. The one most important thing Joanne hit me with is power speech. After a subdued life, I 've almost totally forgotten the importance of dynamic power speech. Thanks to her timely reminder, I read a leadership book & many inspirational books thereafter. (Steve Covey's Living the 7 Habits is superb.) The night before the BIG day, I confessed lamely that I was too embarassed to speak before Joanne. Needless to say, I DID NOT practise my interview at all. Scary, isn't it?

One thing I learnt is NEVER ATTEMPT TO MEMORISE A SCRIPT. You'd end up sounding like a fako news anchor. Trust me on that point, I learnt it the hard way after burning out the poor cassette tape with my dismaying oral recordings.

4. LP and Christoper - For guaranteed entertainment & good fun during the killing preparation month.

5. My Sardinas. Chyan, Cheng Ping, Gracia & Biyun rise up to the occassion marvellously. Proof- read my essays even though they were dead busy with insane schedules. And giving me words of encouragement & advice when I'm at my most neurotic state.

6. Joel. I remembered you said I should go write for the newspapers when you I sent you my essays. Lol. I laughed my knuckles off and I still stand by it. I'm not that zai yet. Hahaha! Thanks for helping out with the overall presentation and my killer 10-year career plan. ;p

7. Darsh - Though your editing tips came a tad too late, I appreciated the thoughts & effort put into it. Thanks!

8. My lecturers for fantastic recommendation though some think otherwise of me. It's okay!

9. Jiuan's encouragement --> merci!

10. Admin people. You won't believe how helpful they are. ;p

Deck the hall with lalalala....Fa-la-la--

Gotta get down to serious work now. My accounting sheets for this afternoon's tutorial are still blank. =x Have to write thank you cards etc. So much to do!

What an eventful Thursday. Must ask LP to check my luck forecast on the lunar calendar. My guess is 吉 ;p

Blistering Summer @ BC

2005-10-12T22:24:00.000+08:00

The heat waves are generating faster than bacteria mutate. The air is getting steamier. The fans outnumbered by 2-infinity, are putting up a valiant fight against the never-ending heat waves with deafening roars. I'm perspiring as if I've just run back from Kallang. My head is splitting with jabs of pains.

I bite my teeth and push myself to finish up the laundry, pack up the place, make a cup of hot Jasmine tea (not before realising there's no ice in the freezer). Waiting for the tea to cool down, my head to clear and the heat to dissipate.

(White flag) I'm crashing the showers for the second time in the evening. It's either a cold shower or sleep in the field in my birthday skin. Since the latter is as unlikely as Singapore snowing in the next five minutes, it's down to a moodless shower.

I miss the air-cons at home, where I have the liberty to turn it on as and when the weather is cracking me. Christopher and LP have an even lower tolerance for heat - Christopher needs the air-con when he watches Sesame Street; LP sleeps with the air-con blasting at 16 degree celsius, full speed through the night. And what do I have with me now? Two pathetic fans.

Enough lamenting. If I'm lucky, the tea will be forgiving on my throat by the time I'm done with a cool splash.

Fast Cars - Vroom Vroom!

2005-10-11T20:21:00.000+08:00

I've to confess that marketing classes always make my day. What with previewing banned ads, watching videos and an animated lecturer, it's hard to frown on a Tuesday afternoon. :)

We had a video on Mercedes-Benz today. GOODNESS ME! Guess what perks the marketing manager at Mercedes-Benz has?

A NEW MERCEDES MODEL (FOR EVALUATION. As long as I get to swing the car key and vroom vroom down the fast lane, who cares what's it for?) EVERY TWO WEEKS.

Damn...this guy goes through more Mercedes than I throw away old socks. Some people here even have to stick their hand on a car for DAYS to get a car. It's not some fancy Benz, mind you. A Subaru Impreza 1.6 - no grounds for comparison, really.

Mercedes-wannabe boys...now you know where da best job is. And gals out there who fancy a rich boyfriend should probably start paying more attention to car display showrooms and hopefully, net the marketing manager.

Taking a break from this Self

2005-10-10T02:27:00.000+08:00

I'm in a adulthood crisis, juggling multiple personalities and staring into the air, questioning the reason for my existence, evaluating my merits & demerits, trying to reach out to my future...

I'm quieter, more mellowed now. I don't know what to say and socialising is too demanding & tiring. As a friend puts aptly, msn chatting is socialising as well. Perhaps that explains why I prefer to stay away from the online buzz.

I look forward to family dinners because I'm away from home 5 days a week. I like to spend the weekend lounging at home because on Sunday, I'd be off again.

I'm reading Buddhist teachings and visiting temples because of the search for inner peace.

I'm a machine of chaos. Do I engineer chaos from within or absorb chaos from external? That is my question for my Self.

2005-10-06T11:19:00.000+08:00

I am a hybrid of:
Progressive Girl
Career Girl
Click on the pictures below to read more:
Take the 'What Kind of Girl Are You?' quiz at CookingToHookup.com

Ads with a cult following

2005-10-03T19:49:00.000+08:00

Nobody could have said they've not seen these Apple silhouette commericals. Every Apple iPod ad song is an instant radio hit. With the Apple hip hop dancers gyrating their butts off and spinning their bodies in gravity defying headlock, the featured artistes - Black Eyed Peas, U2, Gorillaz & Caesars - are just way cool. If the iPod campaign is any gauge, I suppose I can expect greater things from Steve Jobs. And more edgy ads other than the typical boring, Mediacorp artistes beauty products endorsements, flooding the local newspreads and tv channels. When's the last time you turn on the tv with the pure intention of vegetating and not witness a 'life transforming' slimming/bustline enhancement/'organic' non-surgical facelift (Why can't they just do a botox and do away with all these nonsense?) ads?

To this date, I've not seen any guerilla marketing tactics. Maybe I'm just blind.

Interesting 21st century lingo

2005-10-02T22:44:00.000+08:00

Skippies: school kids with income & purchasing power
Mobys: Not the singer Moby that Eminen hates but "mother older, baby younger"
Dinks: double income, no kids
Dewks: dual earners with kids
Puppies: (Darn, not even I've heard of this) poor urban professionals
Woofs: well-off older folks

A no brainer quiz

2005-10-02T22:16:00.000+08:00

Your Blogging Type is Pensive and Philosophical

You blog like no one else is reading...
You tend to use your blog to explore ideas - often in long winded prose.
Easy going and flexible, you tend to befriend other bloggers easily.
But if they disagree with once too much, you'll pull them from your blogroll!

What's Your Blogging Personality?

Bon Jovi ROCK my world

2005-10-02T00:34:00.000+08:00

My all time fav rock band - Bon Jovi

Their new hit Have A Nice Day is a BLAST. Check out the music video .

Jon Bon Jovi is 43, Richie Sambora is 46 - so what?

I can't get enough of Jon Bon Jovi's throaty vocals...he electrifies my speakers. Richie Sambora's work on the guitar is amazing. It's a sheer engineering miracle that the stage doesn't collapse with this rock band pumping the music.

Phoenix by Saucony

2005-09-29T22:58:00.000+08:00

My first pair of running shoes bought according to my foot profile. I chose Phoenix over 2 other Nike models despite its pricier price tag. Took it for a trial run today and the performance was amazing! I can feel the structured cushioning eating away the miles. It's much, much easier and enjoyable to run with my Phoenix. *2 thumbs up*

2005-09-28T15:53:00.000+08:00

Penguin says quack quack quack

2005-09-28T14:12:00.000+08:00

Others wear a power suit to assert their presence. I wear one to feel braver.

I had a poor sleep last night with an abnormal invasion of dreams that are at best described as rubbish. This morning's climate was at its most humid and I'm surprised I didn't drown in my own perspiration.

En route to school, my attempt to empty my brain was faltering. I was freaking nervous. All my months of preparation, frustration, bruised pride, sleep foregone, everything are going to be decided in a thirty-minutes interview with three esteemed scholarship committee members. How could I not sweat?

Nobody would probably believe this but I wear my butt out practising how to sit and walk the previous night. I was praying it won't be an American Idol type of interview with the judges at one end and me in a miserable stool on the far end (it wasn't, thankfully). According to Jo, women should sit with their legs kept to one side. Problem is I can't balance with this posture. Perching precariously on the edge of the seat, I was on the verge of toppling over. What a memorable sight that would be. The ONLY candidate to topple over during an interview. Laugh laugh laugh.

Braving humidity and capricious showers of rain, I reached school 40 minutes early. Couldn't decide what to do. I was a bundle of nerves. I would have given anything to pack up and leave through the back gate.

I made a quick trip into the library for some aircon but the atmosphere was so stifling that I left after 5 minutes. (Countdown: 35 minutes). Visited the level 2 washroom to freshen up myself. When I looked into the mirror, I saw a stressed up self with tight knitted brows and thin lips. I don't know how long I stood in front of the mirror. It could have been an eternity and I wouldn't have known the otherwise. I gave myself a hard shake, a quick pep talk with the freaked out goose in the mirror (After all, I made it to the interview. I must be good. I earned that half-an-hour of talktime.), threw on my jacket, picked off imaginary lint from the fabric and smiled weakly. Oh my, my tummy is churning. I feel sick.

It was 9.40am when I waited at the lift lobby. The 3 lifts were packed with students and staff. I waited morosely. Could not suppress the urge to detour to the 5th floor washroom instead of the meeting room at level 6. Spent another 7 minutes in front of the wide mirror. 9.55am. Mustered all the fibres of courage I have and marched to level 6.

It was unusually clustered. What's up with everyone today? Everywhere I go is packed. I saw two familiar faces - Sylvia Yeo and Karen Tang - who were very kind to encourage the quavering penguin. Sylvia mistook me for a graduate before she registered that graduates don't look like they're going to the abattoir.

I guess it was a moment of epiphany or sheer miracle. I sat down on the couch and suddenly gained control of myself. There was no pre-warning. It just struck. The sudden surge of confidence is amazing. After I muttered a fervent prayer under my breath, Sherry took me to the fateful meeting room.

And I'm on my own.

The interview panel has two women and a man. The room was cool but not oppressive. There was a long table and I'm saved from toppling over a stool with a comfy rolling chair. Good sign.

After a round of firm handshakes, the test began.

If the truth may be told, I actually enjoyed myself. I was very animated and energetic, a stark contrast to the earlier influx of morbid thoughts and heavy heart. 6 questions and a question regarding internship from me (an issue I'm particularly concerned with), 30 minutes flew by. The interviewers remarked that they were impressed with my 10-year career plan (That was my understanding of study plan. Whether I was the only dodo bird who interpreted it as such, I've no idea.) It is nonetheless another good sign.

At this juncture, I've to say I did the best I could though there were the usual regrets of "Hey, I could have mentioned this". Conscience-wise, I'm clear.

The first lecturer I wanted to thank was Dr Wong. When I found her, her students were relaxing over a cup of coffee outside. I came just in time for break. She didn't recognise me at first sight, mistaking me for a lecturer. I don't blame her though what with the penguin suit I was wearing. We had a good chat...she's a nice tutor to have. :)

The verdict will be out by mid-Oct. It would be a bonus if I win the scholarship. If I don't, the learning value of this scholarship application process has been a life-transforming experience. On top of that, I can sit with legs tucked neatly to one side without toppling over. What more can one ask for? *laughs*

There're many more people to thank: god for courage and strenth, my family for their unwavering support and faith, tutors for their guidance, friends esp those who helped to edit my manuscripts despite their overloaded schedules, programme officers for their encouragement and the scholarship committee for considering me.

What an eventful week it has been! Planned to buy myself a new pair of serious trainers as a reward. Four years after the christmas@Reebok specialty shop , I hung up my first Reeboks (incidentally also a high performance, top of the range, utterly expensive model) on Sept 27, 2005.

Euphoria Max

2005-09-27T09:48:00.000+08:00

I'M SO HAPPY!
I'M SO HAPPY!
I'M SO HAPPY!

I got a scholarship interview tomorrow!

YEAH YEAH YEAH!

Sings at the top of my lungs: I'm singing in the rain! I'm singing in the rain!!!

7 pieces.

2005-09-26T02:45:00.000+08:00

1. Forgetting Birthdays

I found myself excusing my forgetfulness/thoughtlessness with my detached online presence [thus] did not read the birthday reminder in my bursting inbox and [thus] forgot about a friend's birthday and [thus] this lame excuse. I'm wholely chastised.

Allow me to make some humble compensations: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANELLA!

2. Dug out 10-year-old vintage Disney and Sesame Street shirts.

It must have been sixth sense that prompted me to dig the depths of my sister's wardrobe over the weekend for the Mickey Mouse & Big Bird shirts I had in primary school. Lo and behold! They still fit! (After note: When other girls are prancing in their dainty frilly dresses, I've defied the natural laws of growth with my baby walrus girth.) On hindsight, if not for my faster-than-usual growth rate, my Mickey Mouse tops won't fit me now. Talk about trade off...

Hee...anyway, I'm extremely exhilarated with my Disney shirts just in time for the Hong Kong Disneyland buzz too!

3. My affair with my track shoes.

I ended off the week with a 3.2km mark. cheeeerss! Would be increasing the frequency of my evening jogs to 5 days a week and adding on miles as I progress onward with my faithful Reeboks.

4. Guilty of not reading even a tabloid column for two weeks.

This is the result of sleeping at 4am and waking up (in shock) at 11.55pm. Charge to the bathroom; brush my teeth and wax my tangled sticking-out-at-all-ends hair simultaneously; make coffee, tear to my bedroom, throw on any assortment of clothes; wolf down the coffee & stash any visible piece of paper on my work desk into my bag; grab my sandals and RUN for the lift. Reach level 1, forgot to bring chapter 2 for lecture. Spend 1.5 minutes cursing and praying. Open the door lock with clumsy fingers. Drop the heavy padlock on my toes. More curses. Charge to my desk. Can't find any chapter 2. Chapter 2 stuck gleefully in between the stash of messy papers. Can't even muster a "Stupid idiot". Reach school. Thirty minutes early. Could not understand why. Found out [today] my clock was tampered with. It's thirty minutes early. Squeeze my eyes shut and bangs head on the table.

5. Always hungry at night

I take after my dad like an angku kueh. This includes an enormous night appetite. After 10pm, I'm a cookie monster raiding every jar and tin for snacks. The wastepaper basket is the only container unturned.

Solution: Non-fat yogurts. I recommend Marigold non-fat strawberry, mixed berries and blueberry yogurts. Keeps your sweet tooth happy without adding on the pounds.

After the one week long night raids, I've stocked up on yogurts and fresh fruits. The fridge currently holds seedless green grapes, fuji apples, sunkist oranges and california plums.

6. Detox weekend

Saturday is reserved for detoxification which means a leisurely lazy day spent at home. No mingling with noisy weekend shopping crowds or evening jogs.

I've been using Elken Fujita Lactose-S (orange flavour). It's highly effective, I must say! My intestines feel cleansed after the purge of weekly-accumulated toxins. The Lactose-S contains lactose, oligosaccharides, plant enzyme, lactice acid forming bacteria (Bifidus & Laclis), orange powder. An organic formula that will go well with the health watchers.

To reiterate the importance of staying at home after taking Lactose-S, let me share an unfortunate saturday. In my hurry to join my mum for shopping, I forgot cleanly about the Lactose-S I drank in the morning. Almost died holding my bladder at the shopping mall. This is partly of my habitual dislike for public toilets. Lesson learnt: detox, shopping - choose one.

7. Still think Alex Bogusky is cute.

Won over four hundred creative awards for CP + B as creative director.
2002 - Inducted into the American Advertising Federation's Hall of Achievement
2004,2005 - Chairman of International ANDY Awards (Oscars for advertising)

This is what I called brains + looks + money.

(In small print: I'm such a hopeless gitz.)

Body Talk

2005-09-23T04:13:00.000+08:00

Our body shape is pretty much fixed from the day we're born. A baby pear grows into a mature pear. Likewise for the apple, cone etc. However, fitness experts said we could work on our body composition (fat-muscle ratio). Therefore, the key is to keeping in-shape rather than twisting our backbone, hipbone or shoulder blades to fit into a hourglass.

There are three basic body types: the ectomorph, the endomorph and the mesomorph. Whatever your type, follow a workout that's designed to make the most of it.

* Ectomorphs are long, wiry and narrow. They generally have delicate bone structures and shoulders and hips that are approximately the same width. Accomplished long-distance runners, ballerinas and basketball players are often ectomorphs. (Michelle Pfeiffer, Whitney Houston and Heather Locklear are examples of in-shape ectomorphs.)

Weight training strategy: Build up muscle with 2 to 4 sets of weight training exercises per body part. Use a moderate-to-heavy weight that you can lift with good form for 6 to 10 repetitions. Consider doing a split routine where you work some parts of the body one day and then others the next.

Cardio training strategy: Your goal is to up your stamina and whip your heart and lungs into shape, so include cardio exercise 3 to 5 times a week. Aim for 20 to 40 minutes per session at a moderate-to-intense workout level.

* Endomorphs are soft, curvy and often "pear-shaped" -- that is, their hips are often wider than their shoulders. Although this body type holds onto fat a little more tenaciously than the other body types, many famous actresses and singers are wonderful examples of how sexy and curvaceous endos can be. (Jennifer Lopez, Oprah Winfrey and Cindy Crawford are examples of in-shape endomorphs.)

Weight training strategy: Emphasize those glorious curves by adding muscle tone. Perform a total-body weight training routine three times a week that consists of two sets of weight training exercises per body part. Do 10-15 repetitions per set using a moderate to light weight. To improve body symmetry, you may want to double up on upper-body exercise

Cardio training strategy: Do 30-60 minutes of cardio work 3 to 6 times a week for maximum fat and calorie burn. Your cardio workouts should generally be done at a moderately intense level

* Mesomorphs have big bones and tend to muscle up easily. Their shoulders are often wider than their hips, and they are often described as having "medium" builds. Think sprinters, soccer players and tennis players. (Madonna, Gloria Estefan and Tina Turner are examples of in-shape mesomorphs.)

Weight training strategy: Light-to-moderate weight training done 2 to 3 times a week will help enhance tone, not size. Complete a basic strength workout 2 times a week, performing 2 sets of 12 to 15 repetitions using light to moderate weights for each major muscle group. You may want to try circuit training (moving quickly from one exercise to the next without a break) because it promotes strength and stamina without building bulk

Cardio training strategy: Three to five cardio workouts a week done at a moderate to fast pace should help keep you looking lean and trim. Aim for 30 to 45 minutes per session.

Another popular body shape classification

However, we are seldom a pure ectomorph, endomorph or mesomorph. We're usually a combination of at least two. Which means we've to stand in front of a full-length mirror and decide what we are. After the painful analysis of our less-than-desirable body, we can draw up a workout that burns a substantial number of calories and fats and keeps us decently fed. We won't want to start an unnatural famine on our rich, capitalistic island.

About me - the goldfish.

2005-09-23T00:01:00.000+08:00

I can't string ten words together about my current life. Feel like an oversized goldfish swimming in a fishbowl, looking out at the big world outside me, magnified through a thick glass.

I feel alive when I'm out in the open. Running on my feet. Pushing myself further and further from the starting line. That rush of adrenaline is intoxicating.

I'm a born workbull. A settled, routined life is not for me I've come to realise.

But little thrills do come once in a while. Such as Alex Bogusky, the sexiest Creative Director on earth. Found him in my marketing text (of all places). CD of Crispin Porter + Bogusky. An ex-motor racer. An almost-turned-pro windsurfer. The buzzword in marketing now. He got me grinning stupidly like a giddy teenage girl. Been a long, long (x10) while since I last did that.

2005-09-22T23:53:00.000+08:00

Like the big buttons, the shade of coral green, the aloof eyes of the model.

New York A-list Designers from Malaysia

2005-09-21T14:35:00.000+08:00

ChanPaul
Paul Chan describes a ChanPaul woman as one who's hip, adores pastel tones, appreciates great tailoring and smart details, and lastly RICH. A ChanPaul dress retails at an average of S$4000. This guy sure doesn't mince his words.

Accolades: The Fashion Group International's Rising Star Award

Who wears it: Lydia Hearst, Hillary Swank, Britney Spears, Finola Hughes, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Alexandra and Theodora Richards

Zang Toi , Toi House

The Toi woman is bold, sexy, glamourous.

Who wears it: Ivana Trump, Sharon Stone, Eva Longoria, Debra Messing, Patti Labelle, Farrah Fawcett, Angela Bassett, and Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas.

My personal comment: Zang has a fetish for mini shorts. Chances of him wearing one in public is 4 out of 5. Then again, he's a designer. What he wears certainly must be of good taste. But I still think he looks awful in those tight, mini shorts.

For his father's 60th birthday, he dressed the whole family in maroon velvet pants/skirts and white tops. My own take: ugly.

Beautiful. Asian.

2005-09-20T07:38:00.000+08:00

The oriental girl in me has a soft spot for Asian fashion designers. The way they redefine our culture without losing the original flavour is quite simply spectacular.

Ready-to-wear Collection Autumn/Winter 2005-2006

Issey Miyake by Naoki Takizawa

Ultra feminine touches to bring out the soft silhouettes.

The oriental girl in me has a soft spot for Asian fashion designers. The way they redefine our culture without losing the original flavour is addictive, mesmerising, spectacular. Ready-to-wear Collection Autumn/Winter 2005-2006 <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/issey31.jpg"></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Issey Miyake by Naoki Takizawa</span> Ultra feminine touches to bring out the soft silhouettes. <div style="text-align: center;"> </div> <div style="text-align: center;"> <div style="text-align: left;"> </div> <span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span> <div style="text-align: left;"> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/isseymiyake17.jpg"></a>Elegant, luscious, swishy silks. </div> <div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/issey24.jpg"></a>After the first ulitarian trenchcoat Yve Saint Laurent put on women, Naoki Takizawa got the right formula in this autumn's must-have trenchcoat. </div> </div> <div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/slideimage12.jpg"></a>Bohemian Magic by <span class="hceteTxt">Antonio Marras</span> </div> <span class="hceteTxt"> </span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"> </span> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/kenzo11.jpg"></a>Exotic Indian sari fused with Elizabethen innocence. </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/kenzo41.jpg"></a>She reminds me of the elfish princess, Arwen from Lord of the Rings. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/kenzo3.jpg"></a> </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/kenzo51.jpg"></a> Accessories played up with a twist. </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/kenzo21.jpg"></a> Urban hippy boots. </div> <span class="hceteTxt"> </span> <div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/vera-wang.jpg"></a><span class="hceteTxt">Spring 2005 Bridal Collection <span style="font-style: italic;">by Vera Wang</span> </span></div> <span class="hceteTxt"> </span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"> </span> <span style="text-decoration: underline;"> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5644/769/1600/collage4.jpg"></a> <span style="text-decoration: underline;"> </span> <div style="text-align: center;"> </div>

Elegant, luscious, swishy silks.

After the first ulitarian trenchcoat YveS Saint Laurent put on women, Naoki Takizawa got the right formula in this autumn's must-have trenchcoat.

Bohemian Magic by Antonio Marras

Exotic Indian sari fused with Elizabethen innocence.

She reminds me of the elfish princess, Arwen from Lord of the Rings.

Accessories played up with a twist.

Urban hippy boots.

Spring 2005 Bridal Collection
by Vera Wang

I could not resist the charm of Manolo Blahnik

2005-09-13T04:25:00.000+08:00

Manolo Blahnik. "And the secret of toe cleavage, a very important part of the sexuality of the shoe. You must only show the first two cracks. And the heel."

Pretty but hazardous stilettoes.

The Manolos are christened with pretty names. Clockwise from top left: (1st) Green Crocodile, (4th) Giacinto, (5th) Elizabeth

Strappy high heel sandals! More pretty names: clockwise from top left (3rd) Cienza, (5th) Finolo, (6th) Fiore

This sleek silver little thing is a posh shoehorn.

Now I know why women are so crazy over Manolos. Each heel is carved by Manolo Blahnik himself. A Manolo is an art. A fashion statement. A symbol of feminine seduction. A chic, high-flying woman must-have. These explain the heartstopping price tags.

Wonder if Manolos come in size 40...

"Why Are You Single?" 5 Feisty (and Funny) Comebacks

2005-09-13T04:18:00.000+08:00

"Why aren't you married?" After hearing that question, you will pause, smile sagaciously (I love that word), and give one of the following:

1. In the beginning, there were no stairmasters or low-fat-high-fiber muffins, and so people lived to only about 40-something. Maximum.
Meaning? The pressure was on to get married before age 25. However, today, thanks to medical advances (and the fine line of SnackWell products) we can all hope to live to age 80. Easy.
Meaning? Even if we get married at age 40, that's still 35, 45, even 55 years to be with a mate. Plenty of time to be married. And divorced? What's the hurry?

2. Married people are not necessarily better catches simply because they were caught. I mean, have you taken a look at some of the married people out there? Hitler got married. Frankenstein got married. Linda Tripp got married. Obviously married people are not superior people.

3. Meanwhile, look at some of our cool single role models:

Catwoman: single.
Buddha: single.
Aphrodite: single.
The Lone Ranger. Actually, all superheroes are single: Superman, Wonder Woman, Dudley Do-Right, etc.

4. Then there's The Ultimate Superhero -- God. Also single. And God is even a single-parent household.

5. It's easy to become married. 2.3 million people do it a year. If you want to pressure me to become something, hey, why not pick something a little more challenging? Like an astrophysicist.

Looking for a dream

2005-09-10T20:08:00.000+08:00

I don't know where my dream is or where it will lead me to. But I'm stubborn in my quest.

Whenever I'm demoralised or when I question my own credibility and capacity, I look at my goals again, give myself a shake and press on.

I can visualise my dream so vividly. Even as I breathe eagerly in full antipation of my future, I foresee the sacrifices I've to make. The possibility of not being able to celebrate occassions of all sorts with my family or to part with familiarity.

No doubt that's a powerful deterrence. But I'm adamant in my belief in overcoming that and any other obstacle that may appear. I simply refuse to surrender without a good fight.

P.S. My mindset has shifted furtively while I was in a stupor. I believe this is a symptom of ageing that not even anti-ageing mineral supplements or miracle water can prevent/cure.

A la carte for my potty

2005-09-07T15:12:00.000+08:00

I wanna chuck...

Henri Fayol (the POCCC guy), Weber (my greatest nightmare), Henry Gantt (him and his charts - bleurgh!), Gilbreth (the smartie couple with 7 children? Can't remember...), Elton Mayo (His Hawthorne Effect and the 6 ladies credited to it), Mary P. Follett (the woman who said mgt is the art of doing things thru people), Barnard (Oh, the New Jersey Bell Co CEO who decided to beat Fayol as the most quoted person in mgt and published a bunch of papers), Charles Handy (The silly Greek temple guy), Scheine (Man is complex. Took him that long to realise), Taylor (Man is mercenary. Feed him with money and he'll slog his guts out for you.), Wiilliam Ouchi (Jap + Amer mgt = Whoa whoa whoa), Fukuyama (the pessimistic political scientist), Rice & Emery (who made their fortune from spinning cotton at the Ahmedabad calico mills), Eric Trist & Bamfort (We were instructed to remember Trist till our death. I pity Bamfort. Trist gets all the attention.), Katz & Kahn (The twin Ks -- Organisations are complex systems! Eurekaaaa!), Joan Woodward (I call her Joan but my friend insisted she's Jo-anne. What do you say, Ms Woodward?), Oldham & Hackman (I love their names. Old-Ham & Hack-man), Von Bertalanffy (he reminds me of Dracula), Lawrence & Lorsh (who went too far with differentiation & integration), Burns & Stalker (another nightmare from the Weber era), Peters & Waterman (The only one modest principle I can remember from their elaborated list is 'stick to knitting'. Not that it can save my neck. Heck)...

into the deep innards of the toiletbowl. And that's not even half of the people I intend to flush down by this week.

Bother bother. Wake me up when September ends.