Merry Christmas and party on into the New Year!

I'm back in London and recovering from busting a big hole in my bank account with the unbelievable amount of shopping I've done. New York (and New Jersey where there are no taxes) has drained me of almost all my living expenses!

Do not judge me until the Harrods sales are on.

Will regale you with stories of Nine West shoes, frustrations of the New Yorks strikes and unbelievably stupid Americans later. Right now I've just gotta get my jetlag fixed.

Hope you had a Merry Christmas. And may it snow tomorrow. (Come on, just a little, pleeeease?)

Coming to you live from Chicago!

The funniest bumper sticker I've seen so far:

Nobody died
When Clinton lied

It's an average of -8C here and we're in my granduncle's apartment facing a very beautiful (and I might add frozen) Lake Michigan.

A quick run down of our last two days would be:
Heathrow - Charles de Gaule - JFK - New Jersey (CHEAP Cheena food!!! and NO TAXES!) - La Guardia - Chicago Midway - Vietnames Pho - High School Band concert (my uncle who's 16 plays the tuba which weighs 25 pounds) - Express tour around Chicago city in my uncle's warm car - Pompeii exhibit at the Field Museum (Charl: Who's Pompeii? Lionel: It's a place, not a person!) - Jazz band at the Green Mill club - Decorate real live Christmas tree while sipping mugs of hot chocolate and popcorn

And that's about it

Any last orders?

I'm leaving for New York on the 15th. Will be in Chicago until the 20th. Then back to New York and then back in good ol' London on the 28th.

This is a last call for addresses if you would like postcards/Christmas cards/Thinking of you in this freaking bitter cold weather cards!

This is also a last call for anyone who wants to meet up in New York/Chicago or wants presents from New York/Chicago! Nicole's birthday present is already on the list.

And a very desperate request for anyone who's able to house Lionel and I on the 15th for one night to avoid us having to spend the night at JFK airport, on transit to Chicago the next day. We sleep on floors, own a sleeping bag and are generally clean and well mannered.

Ah, the life of a backpacker on a shoe string. My granduncle sponsoring my air ticket and my EEE department tour guide income only just manages to cover my accomodation! How many more snotty A-Level kids do I have to entertain to earn enough money for a decent holiday? (Although in all fairness, they're not snotty... except the ones who would rather go to Oxbridge)

p/s: London folk - keep New Year's Eve free! And vote for a) Popiah party, b) Charlotte's various (and suspicious) finger food recipes or c) 2 mins in the microwave Iceland frozen food packs OR d) all of the above!

The Leader?

This so cracked me up in the midst of my coursework fury!

How a poem like this could be printed in a Pakistani school textbook is both a mystery to me and to the Pakistani government! We're not the only bumbling education system in the world, huh?

THE LEADER by anonymous

Patient and steady with all he must bear,
Ready to meet every challenge with care,
Easy in manner, yet solid as steel,
Strong in his faith, refreshingly real.
Isn't afraid to propose what is bold,
Doesn't conform to the usual mould,
Eyes that have foresight, for hindsight won't do,
Never backs down when he sees what is true,
Tells it all straight, and means it all too.
Going forward and knowing he's right,
Even when doubted for why he would fight,
Over and over he makes his case clear,
Reaching to touch the ones who won't hear.
Growing in strength he won't be unnerved,
Ever assuring he'll stand by his word.
Wanting the world to join his firm stand,
Bracing for war, but praying for peace,
Using his power so evil will cease,
So much a leader and worthy of trust,
Here stands a man who will do what he must.

It's the most wonderful time of the year

When the workload is piling and winds come a-calling and deadlines are here!
It's the most wonderful time of the year!

Does anyone feel like it's spring? After the last 2 week's worth of frost and bitter cold, this 'warmer' weather and the few trees that are still green are a welcomed change. Now THIS is what autumn is supposed to be like!

Let's paint a bull's eye on Queen's Tower, aye?

DSP coursework - compiled, proof read and printed an entire day before the deadline! Boy do I feel a smug look coming on.

In other news, I will be in Chicago on the 15th, then in New York on the 20th, then (fingers crossed) at Harrods during the boxing day sales with my hands on a good coat. Who says one can have too many coats? One cannot have enough coats in a lifetime. Nor boots.

Anyone noticed that Imperial College has been in the lime light recently? For all the wrong reasons! Thanks to the Rector's ban on hoodies, face veils and scarves that hide ugly braces we've become a nationwide controversy! We even appeared on the evening news! Everyone loves a good scandal.

Now it's not like anyone's really abiding by the new draconian laws. Sure the security guards tried to stop me once for not wearing my ID tag. But how much harm could I have caused? I was trying to leave the grounds, not get in! But that was just an isolated incident and since our own campus shop sells hoodies with the IC name proudly stitched on, no one's really bothered.

Except for the bunch of amnesty international and other monkeys from jobless human rights societies. There they were, right outside the Faculty building, protesting and waving placards calling the Rector out on account of Islamaphobia and Hijab-phobia and what not. And here we were in German class trying to understand genitive cases and adjectival nouns and not being able to hear a word of it due to the inconsiderate shouting outside.

Now, I think it's incredibly immature and petty. The rules were enforced two weeks ago. And it's taken 2 weeks to round up enough protestors? Come on, why wasn't this done when the bun was still fresh out of the oven? Most students don't seem to be affected by it, let alone feel strongly about it. My Malay friends, in headscarves nontheless, aren't the ones running around with placards. In fact they're pretty passive about the whole thing. After all it was a rule disallowing the wearing of hoods which hides the face from security cameras in the event of a break in or theft, which has been plagueing our halls and campus offices recently. No one even brought up the topic of banning headscarves.

But along come the do-gooders. Making something out of nothing. I personally think all this attention we're drawing is making us the perfect target for a terrorist bombing. Way to go Imperial. It's not like we don't have all the stuff to make our own bomb right here on campus!

Kumpulan Orang Biru, and other Christmas thoughts

It's been threatening to snow. But it hasn't yet. I've forgotten what it's like to have feeling in my ears. Thus all I would like to have for Christmas (and preferably before) is this - warm fluffy (and preferably pink) ear muffs!

Alternatively, I will also settle for:


Mini tabletop vacuums!
Available at Robert Dyas for only 4.99, and come in an assortment of cute animal shapes too. Personally I'd like a little pink pig. Wouldn't you?








Christmas presents aside, we spent last night watching the Blue Man Group, which is really hard to describe so go here and read about them. And you'd better not miss out on the videos! I really can't decide if the best part of the night was having to wear ponchos throughout the show (ah, memories of rainy Odac days) or getting teepeed by humongous rolls of toilet paper. If you've never tried swimming in a sea of toilet paper, go watch the Blue Man Group instead of buying more Kleenex!

Above on the left is just one of the three men in blue (MIB), and frankly I find anybody covered in a latex layer of thick (and still wet) blue paint to be rather creepy. But covering an audience member in blue paint, hanging him from his legs and swinging him face first onto a white canvas is surprisingly rather artistic. So are flourescent UV pipes!

Me, Lionel, Lu and Grace with The Band!

Chien Liq and his prized Blue Man saliva painting,
lovingly spat onto a blank canvas for him

And Matt, who got Blue Man-handled!

As the busy bee

Some of us have discovered the tricks of the trade on Bullbearings. Some of us have just learnt how to outscheme the computer program. *cough* I've just been trying my hand at it and earned 40 pounds in half an hour just from trading US Dollars and Japanese Yen. Now if only I could cash it in for a new pair of leather boots!

Have I ever told you how easy it is to make wontons? And how easy it is to overcook them?

Need to run now. I did say I was going to get started on DSPs about 6 hours ago!

Mr Newell, you are SO not a Harry Potter fan!

I'm going to spoil Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (HP&GoF) for you if you haven't watched it yet so read at your own peril.

I'm gutted! Where was the Quidditch World Cup match? What happened to all the obstacles in the third task? Why were the triwizard champions made such shallow characters instead of the extremely talented wizards/witches they were? Why didn't they show Harry picking up all those neat charms and spells for the triwizard tournament? How could they completely write off the house elves and SPEW? Why did Rita Skeeter disappear halfway through and why didn't they show Hermione bottling her beetle animagus in the end? That would have made a much better ending than Hermione's melancholy theatrics in that 'trying too hard to be bittersweet' ending.

I take my Harry Potter much too seriously. But anal retentiveness aside, it was an amazing movie. I'm not trying to nitpick on the details. I'll admit the CGI was perfect, the magical creatures were spectacular, the setting would make Peter Jackson weep, and I cried when Cedric Diggory died.

I just wish it had been more magical than a display of special effects. Shame on you Mike Newell. You ought to know your Harry Potter better.

Fiesta Pina!

It was pineapple day yesterday. Don't ask me what that is, I made it up! We had 2 pineapples in our kitchen yesterday because it's 1 for 1 at Sainsbury's.

So I made pineapple fried rice (Amar you would have loved it, and cooked it better probably!) and pineapple curry with fish! Mmm mm mmmm! It was a dinner worthy of inviting Justin over for.

Justin for some strange reason thinks I'm an amazing cook when all he's ever tasted is my Tiramisu. Apparently Lionel's been telling him that he'd rather eat my culinary concoctions (or disasters) than eat out at any Chinese restaurant. My explanation of that is 1. If he doesn't say so he won't have ANYTHING to eat at home and 2. Have you ever tasted Chinese food in London? It's rubbish with a touch of ajinomoto (MSG) 3. He seems to have mentally blocked out the time I served him very hard, burnt fried rice way back in the first year.

But since Justin is taking Lionel's word for it (and the rest of the emperor's gate folks who only say I cook well because they don't want to cook themselves!) I'm still trying to find a day when I can proudly invite him over to taste my 'wonderful' cooking.


Here's all that is left of yesterday's pineapple rice. It has thus become my lunch. Yes I'm gonna eat out of the frying pan. I'm lazy to wash up more plates.

Alcohol makes me blush

I love a good photo. Especially one taken after downing a Smirnoff. We're so red... and I'll blame the red light bulbs at Sanjeev's 'Heaven or Hell' house party. We're in the hell part of the house. It must be hell when Andy's multiple personalities (hyper vodka chugging Andy and zoned out Andy) start showing. He managed to take a lovely photo though... and even caught the incriminating Smirnoff in Lionel's hand. I made him hold it 'cos it's girly.

Illustrations...

The Christmas feeling is in the air. I know it, because Starbucks and their red cups are telling me so. It's just me and my Gingerbread Latte on this cold November evening. Mmmm, I've gotta fashion some Christmas deco for my room to make it a little more festive.

Christmas would be really nice if only I didn't have a mountain of courseworks blocking the view. Like right now.

I think Amar has the right idea though

by the way...

things I forgot to mention which I think are worth mentioning...

1. Guy Fawkes Day was a blast! Quite literally
2. Maomao, I will never forgive you for sending us the restaurant game! I can no longer do courseworks normally, or start them for that matter.
3. I have to get my eyes checked. Nicole just found out she's short sighted and that made me put abit more thought into those blurry looking lecture slides.

So Exciting!

No time to sleep. It's overrated anyway. These eyebags aren't disappearing no matter how many hours of snooze time I get. What the...

Raya weekend was, all Amar. Spent it at house parties (Sanjeev's and Yunju's) and I can't even remember what else on the weekend. My memory is going. How am I going to finish my courseworks like this?

Pasar Malam gave me a cold and a new addiction to mehndi tattoos. I should post up the designs Sau Yin and I drew. Gorgeous dragons, pheonixes and waterlilies. Want a tattoo? You know where to find us.

I wanted to blog about an article in November's GQ. About this guy who was bashing a Perodua Kelisa with a mallet. Amar if you still have the issue, put the photo up. I think it's a lovely bash to the heads of our egotistical national car producers. The Kelisa isn't a car. It's just a reason to generate a national economy. (I also believe it is the main reason for the high accident rates during Hari Raya, but lets not go there)

I have such an exciting week ahead. Watch as I rush to make deadlines and burn the midnight oil (and then start lighting every flammable object in my house that will create light) to cram numbers and German into my head. Do applaud me if you see me hand in everything on time.

Otherwise, I need to get Fidel's guitar fixed. Two of the strings have snapped and I can't improvise on three strings. And I need to pick songs for bible study group and practise before Thursday. Yeah, I'm being good. I'm going for bible study now. My mum can't stop smiling.

It's me again

We've finally got internet at home, and all is right with the world again.

Well not particularly so. Fiery riots in Paris and now Argentina makes you think that people never learn. Aggression is trendy. Forget about helping the Asian Earthquake appeal (which I did, mind you - I bought a couple of cupcakes and gave away all my cash). Lets just burn stuff down to show everyone we mean business. Even if it's in response to an unconfirmed claim as in Birmingham; sparked off by a rumour which proved to be untrue. They're pretty thick in the west midlands aren't they?

Anyway I thought this silent movie from Vidu was interesting. The comment box is free for your interpretations; random, disturbing or otherwise. I promise there's nothing Freudian about it.

I know I've been hiding here in my little (or not so little) part of London, ignoring several birthdays. I haven't even had the time to cancel my contract line, let alone look for birthday cards (or addresses for that matter). And so, in a very belated (and sheepish) shout out:

Happy Birthday Yin Tse, Maomao, Kim, Jilly and my Grandpa (who doesn't read my blog but knows that I write. Alot.)

There's no need to wish Ayish, after all her 21st birthday party must be one she'll remember for a lifetime. Lets just say that the invitation strictly insisted on everyone dressing up for a black tie evening and that dinner would cost no more than 5 pounds at a secret venue on Knightsbridge that the birthday girl herself did not know off. So imagine the utter shock and horror of 30 elegant suits and gowns entering a private room at McDonalds with a rather, erm, tipsy Ayish. Hopefully the alcohol helped to numb the shock a little. The very amusing things Linsteadians do. I'll post up Nicole's photos when I get the chance.

I wish I had photos of my night at Lehman Brothers though. Imagine being on the top floor (that's 31 floors above ground) overlooking all of London and the Thames with fireworks going off opposite the South Bank! Whipping out my camera phone at that time would unfortunately have been most unappropriate. I just took a mental snap shot - Kirsten Dunst style. Watch Elizabethtown. That's my advice for the week. I got free preview tickets but I would have gladly paid for it, if only for Kirsten Dunst. What Orlando Bloom? Let's go on a roadtrip, just you and me.

Amar's here for the weekend. Enough said.

Spank me!

Erm, no... not really...

But some one should if I don't sit my ass down and finish this stupid comms systems coursework by today! It's only due tomorrow at 5pm, but tomorrow being commemoration day it means everyone gets a holiday and I'll have no one's coursework to copy! Bah!

It was a bloody waste of time dressing up for year rep elections. Yeah, I am year rep, but it's a joint year rep position and thus was won by a general consensus that everyone agreed to having more than one (or rather we agreed NOT to vote out anyone) due to the wide spectrum of ISE courses the year reps would have to deal with. So what was the point of Chien Liq and Wei Kiat educating me on how to use my feminine charms on the largely male population of ISE again? Such a waste of hair combing, lip rouging, cleavage plumping, etc. etc. I still hold that I'm the prettier year rep anyway.

I've gotten myself dragged into the IBM university business challenge. In other words, I get to run an imaginary alcopop company for 6 weeks. Ah... my dream career.

I want to go check out the Alien exhibit at the Science Museum tomorrow. Provided I finish and hand in my coursework. Then it's shopping at Harrods, and Death of a Salesman in the evening with Fidel.

And this is why I love London

A First Lady, fondly remembered

My mother sms-ed early this morning, or perhaps late last night. The news that our first lady had passed away obviously could not have waited until I'd woken up. But that's how much she means to us and how much we've grown so fond of her.

For a family that has grown up in the arms of the civil service and government forces in Malaysia, it has been truly difficult to take a liking to anyone of 'them'. Respect, maybe, but like is a an estranged word when it comes to anyone in the government and their respective family members.

But we really liked Endon. Oh, we so did! Maybe we feared that she would never hold a torch up to Tun Dr. Siti Hasmah, but she's carved her own niche into our hearts. She's been the gentle caring, giving, loving, favourite mother of the nation, whether in Bakti or batik. She was fearless in the face of cancer and a shining example, even to my own father in his period of recovery.

And she will be so missed. Thanks for staying awhile to touch us hard of heart, Malaysians. Yours was the hardest battle to fight.

Neither here nor there

So it's the beginning of week 3, and I'm not quite sure where week 1 and 2 have gone. I wish I could say it's been due to a hectic schedule of debauchery and wild freshers events, but sadly this is me and as much as my lovely PJ friends would like to believe that I'm an alcoholic, the only alcohol I've had all week is a glass of fizzy lemoncello while watching some documentary on the telly.

My courses are all a mess. I thought I had them sorted out after meeting with my personal tutor, but it isn't very helpful when he keeps saying "Come on, with your grades you can do anything you want!"

I don't want to do anything. I want him to specifically tell me if I should drop freaking killer Math for signals and systems and take up crappy no brainer Software Engineering or ditch 9am Controls lectures and do Peter Cheung's Deegital Seestems. Well, he did tell me that Controls doesn't seem to fit in because of my Signals and Comms direction, but I'm happily dropping it because I don't want 9am lectures four times a week.

So I'm running from lecture to lecture most of the time. I'm even recording lectures in Computing that clash with those in EEE. When I have time to breathe, I'm either buying groceries or cleaning the flat, or staring zombie-like at the TV. It's amazing how much time the telly takes off your life. Especially now that we've discovered free cable TV. We're not sure who's paying for it, but we certainly aren't.

But I'm doing an hour of yoga on the side. It's like taking a nap in the middle of a hectic Thursday. Just give me 6 months and I'll be able to contort into a little human cube... or at least finally be able to touch my toes. I want to do Salsa on Tuesdays, but Lionel's not the keenest dance partner. I also want to go for the Leornado Soc sessions, but they're a whopping £3.50! I might go for selective ones, that involve expensive art material.

I still haven't figured out how to bump the other Year Rep nominees out of the race. But I'm taking that easy for now.

The Frida Kahlo exhibition on the last weekend was amazing. I like frustrated artists because I'm a relaxed lazy one.

There's Death of a Salesman next week. Lionel still pretends to sulk about having to give Fidel his ticket. Well, maybe he's not pretending.

Then there's Guys and Dolls to fight for tomorrow. Only 20 tickets. Lionel had damn well better be the first in line. There's nothing that can't be sacrificed for an evening with Ewan McGregor.

I'm done for today.

Rather quiet, isn't it?

London is...

.... just as I left it

The vibrant Earl's Court takes some getting used to, and dodging drunken winos is a skill I need to brush up... but you should just see the view from my bedside window! Autumn English backyards in their brilliant reds and golds are certainly worth waking up for.

First weeks are as usual confusing and utterly fluid. Changing time tables, not knowing which electives to take and not being able to find the right rooms for the ArtSoc meeting. Trying to remember names and faces and the one thousand societies I have joined. Trying to find a new phone plan. Trying to figure out how to fix the latch on the bathroom door and how many boxes of files I had altogether because I am quite certain some files are still missing! Trying to plan how I am going to convince 40 ISE students to pick me as year rep instead of the other guy.

It's a lovely way to start off a new term.

Email me for my new address. I'd really appreciate Christmas cards to brighten up my dreary December days.

ps - I do miss home. I really do. I cried on the way back because I won't see my little sister for a year. She's still crying at home.
pps - 6 weeks of home isn't enough. Whatever made me think I can bear 10 straight months without going home?

All aboard! Destination - who knows?

It's almost second nature to harden myself against sentimentality. To plug up the emotions and look everything in the face with steely coldness.

And so, when I leave tomorrow, when I step out of this house for the last time, there will be no looking back. It's too painful to miss something you've always known all your life. Reason tells me to not hold sentiments for something as lifeless as a house. On the otherhand, I guess it's alright to miss something as full of life as a home.

A home with its white washed walls that for 22 years has played canvas to my fingerprints, and its fading terrazo floor on which I played a secret game of only stepping on particular 'islands' to get to the kitchen for fear the rest of its white vastness will swallow you whole. A room with delicate China blue wallpaper which rocked me to sleep to the sounds of Matchbox 20, and hid all my diaries and poems and sketches from prying eyes. A staircase with my own make belief poltergeist that ran up and down noisily just to get attention. And the very overrated aquarium which has held several generations of goldfish, guppies and parrot fish in its time (my favourite being the gormless looking parrot fish). And the tiny backyard where I used to play with the neighbourhood kittens until my mother educated me on the various types of tapeworm diseases that cats bring with them.

It's hard to say goodbye to 22 years of life. Thankfully my new house with my own room and my own bathroom to sing off key in makes it a little easier. It's going to be bigger with more space for the dog to run around. That is the dog will be running around outside, not in my room. I've picked out a new bed after my mother examined my 22 year old bed which has been threatening to fall apart anytime soon. Built-in cupboards have pretty much been designed, and my piano has a designated spot in the house. It's perfect!

I just hope it doesn't have that 'hotel' feeling when I come home next year.

The powers of string-pulling that be!

My visa has been approved. I loved the look on the face of my interviewer when a letter signed by the deputy head of the American embassy consular was shoved under his nose. But in all fairness he was an incredibly nice guy who enthused with me about Berlin being one of the loveliest cities to visit in Germany and is so happy that I will be travelling to his hometown, Chicago!

I must say the day started out perfectly, when a nice girl called Mandy struck up a conversation with me while waiting for our interviews. She could have been really bitchy towards me seeing that I had cut her queue due to daddy's contacts at the embassy, but she was the warmest Malaysian I have met in awhile. It's amazing that in 20 minutes, she'd given me generous advice for starting out a career and working towards a life goal of some sorts. People like these shouldn't be met only once in your life... but it makes it all the more poignant.

And the days go by...

Yesterday:
45 minute drive to Mantin (Seremban-lah), with Daddy, to see my aunties. Am officially the family's most spoilt niece as am earning much more in angpows in the past 6 weeks than I would have at a deskjob. Why am I working so hard for this degree? I should just spend more time pandering to my aunties and uncles!
Oh yes, I know why. It should have dawned on me earlier. All my elder girl cousins have been married off, and the family has been deprived of wedding celebrations for 3 years now. This for a family that has close to 40 nieces and nephews who get married or remarried at an alarming rate seems almost like a dry spell. It doesn't help that my cousins marry off at an average age of 25! I can feel them sharpening their claws. They are demanding a wedding, and probably a small sacrifice as well. Oh and they don't just want a boring old PJ wedding. What with my cousins getting married in Las Vegas and Melbourne and Timbuktu and the Moon... they were already planning my European wedding and shushing my cries of "but I've got to earn my first million before that!"

Today:
So everyone's talking about the great migration back to the land of free rain and cheap beer. In the meantime, I'm being forced into RPM classes and step classes and stretch classes and who knows what else to work off the fats that have greatly accumulated thanks to my 6 week Malaysian diet. (and I don't know a better diet than this!). This week is vanity week. Haircuts, facials, aerobics and shopping. It's the best way to spend quality time with mum. She gets to criticise me and I get everything paid for. Its a win-win situation, always!

Tomorrow:
Reapplication for US Visa. After Daddy yelled at them abit, and then yelled at them abit more, THEY called me instead today to clarify everything before I return to their big scary iron gates and pleeeead for permission to take a holiday in their country. CL suggested that I give the interviewer who rejected me a big glare after I get my visa. I suggested a few choice hokkien words too!

It's Daniel!!!

Underdog? What was I thinking?

True, the only Malaysian Idol episode I've watched this entire season happened to be the finale; and judging by yesterday's performance, Nita should have completely thrashed Daniel. That girl was a powerhouse on fire! And boy was she towering over pretty little Daniel, and I mean that literally.

So what did it? I swear it's that cute crooked chipmunk grin of his! And Charme, you HAD to see his rendition of Mimpi today! I've just fallen in love...

With the song, honey, just the SONG!!! You keep warm in London and just think happy thoughts of me!

Idol Fever

I've just done my part.

I expect it is only my patriotic duty to vote for the next Malaysian Idol, and I've never felt more Malaysian in doing so.

Oh well, better Malaysian Idol than Akademi Fantasia. I'm still eagerly waiting to see the outcome of the Kota Bahru Mawi-malady, or Mawilady for short.

Anyway, for the first time ever, I sat through the entire Idol finale and I am such a sucker for the underdog. Yeah lah, I voted Daniel. He's so adorable, I could take him home, give him a basket and teach him to roll over and play dead.

And is it me, or is Paul Moss trying to look like a cross between Sting and Phil Keoghan (of Amazing Race fame). There were times when I half expected him to get up on stage, look into the camera and say "In this leg of the race..."

But hey, the show isn't about Paul Moss (who sure did get his kicks tonight...). It's about talent, and Malaysia sure isn't lacking in that department. It's also about Malaysian spirit and a platform yet untainted by race or religion, nepotism or APs. This is something we can truly consider to be representative of a Bangsa Malaysia.

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

I can't write much these days. I get sleepy early, and lazy to think.

Oh but I do want to add that I am still appalled at the propaganda promoting the teaching of firearms usage at NS camps as a good thing! Teaching 17 year olds to fire M16s will boost self confidence? Do these people actually listen to the words coming out of their mouths?

Superpower, my foot!

It really isn't enough with a bumbling President, the atrocities of the war in Iraq, the need to pretend that global warming isn't really all that bad, and the inexcusable lack of support in the face of a hurricane - 3rd world treatment for a 1st world self empowered nation, now they need to give me another reason to believe that America is a bitterly cruel cruel country.

They rejected my US visa application and wasted my rm380 on a 5 minute interview which managed to discern that I did not show enough social ties in Malaysia. Why? Because I have spent 2 years abroad in the UK, if I may quote the interviewer. (If ANYONE brings up the 'SINGAPOREAN' jokes again and finds it funny, well I don't! Alright! 2 years spent in Singapore has never made me a traitor to my own country, and don't give me bull because I know my Malaysian history and politics better than most of you do!)

So my scholarship letter from Gamuda, which I am incidentally bonded to for 5 years, does not prove that I have social ties in my own country which I have only lived in for say, 18 years?? An official letter from my father's government office vouching my US trip was refused, and yet they wanted me to prove that I had social ties in Malaysia? And how am I supposed to accept the explanation that my two years away from Malaysia studying abroad has resulted in a loss of social ties with my own country? That is NOT a valid reason!

Superpower? Not so much Superman as the THING, and no one ever said he was very smart!

All because of May

You see, I could be doing other things with my busy schedule... like polishing my toothbrush or rearranging the stones in my fish tank... but nooooo... May has to tag me with this meme!
Ah, but I'm always so polite to oblige...

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Charlotte
2. Shu Chen
3. Chaaaaeeeeeeeeeee!!!! (screamed at the top of an emotional teenager's lungs when she can't find the remote)

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
(must we bring up the past? this is so embarrassing...)
1. Viva_X
2. X_AnGeL
3. dulcinea

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My incredibly unruly hair - it has a mind of its own and a personality as strong as mine!
2. My smile?
3. My freckles!

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. I hate the fact I can't touch my toes and thus can barely pass sit and reach tests!
2. My paternal family's nose
3. My maternal family's appetite (bottomless!)

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. free falling and perpetual motion
2. cockroaches!
3. broccoli dinners

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. 50% pure faith
2. 45% lionel
3. 5% a warm cup of Milo!

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. a blue nightie... and I think I'll have to leave 2 and 3 blank...
2.
3.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:
1. Jewel
2. Tori Amos
3. Chantal Kreviazuk & Bic Runga tie for a third!

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS:
1. If - Bread
2. Feels Like Home - Chantal Kreviazuk
3. Love Song for a Saviour - Jars of Clay

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. 'No eyes for anyone else' loyalty
2. 'I can talk to you about anything - even my obsesson with UFOs' openness
3. 'I want to make you smile everyday' love

2 TRUTHS 1 LIE:
1. I have a phobia of capsize drills
2. I want a helium balloon everytime I see them handed out
3. I love broccoli... especially with cheese...

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE PREFERRED SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. Intense eyes
2. A cute grin
3. And an all so cute toosh!

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Reading
2. Drawing
3. Tinkering with the Piano

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Turn off Mother Nature's radiator! I'm sweating buckets!
2. Find those damn recovery discs so I can reformat my desktop
3. Chat all night with Lionel

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING/YOU'VE CONSIDERED:
1. Owning an entire empire of arts and crafts shops
2. Restoring heritage buildings all over Malaysia
3. Becoming Education Minister... yes in Malaysia, where else?

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
Oh dear, where haven't I been to yet?
1. Greece & Turkey
2. New York
3. Egypt

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Make a change in this country... for the better!
2. Do simple things for humanity throughout my life
3. Make a perfect cheese cake!

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:
1. I can program and I like it
2. I suffer from emotion deficiency
3. I can't participate in petty, catty fights, neither can I understand them

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL:
1. I'm obsessive compulsive
2. I cry at the movies
3. I crave cuddles and kisses

THREE MALE CELEB CRUSHES:
1. Johnyy Depp
2. David Duchovny
3. Hugh Jackman

THREE PEOPLE THAT I WOULD LIKE TO SEE TAKE THIS QUIZ NOW:
1. Charme
2. Sherene
3. Sugi

Beribu-ribu ampun!

Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!

For not updating, for not calling, for not yum char-ing...
For lost phone numbers and lame excuses...
For forgotten birthdays and downright hiding from the world...
For not telling you where I've been, where I am, or where I'm going...
For not asking where you've been, where you are... how ya doin?

I'm just fine. Been really busy, that's all. Lionel came to stay for a few days (and nights). We ate alot. Drove alot. Shopped a little. Watched 2 movies and 2 dvds. We're incredibly unambitious tourists in our own countries, and since the best things in life are free... the best thing to do is arm ourselves with loads of plushy pillows and a duvet and lock ourselves away in an aircond room watching pirated dvds on my laptop. Why can't we do that in London, you ask?

Well... there's no aircond for starters...

The week before was spent in Penang, appeasing both my grandparents and aunty and just trying to keep the peace. Eccentric is just a mild term when it comes to describing my maternal family. And people wonder why I'm like this.

And now I have this ever expanding list of things I have to get done. A US visa being the top priority. After I'd gotten my standard 2 x 2 visa photo taken my mother in all her wisdom noticed that my eyebrows weren't tidy enough and I will have to get them done tomorrow before taking another photo. I'm not entirely sure what the standard requirements for eyebrows are in the US, but I'm more afraid of my mother than the US embassy.

More crazy antics to be posted later. Gotta get this junk heap of a desktop reformatted first.

A quick dictation

I type faster than I write, and way faster than I think. To some extent that doesn't explain the dearth of emails I have written in the last two years, but it does explain my decrepit bloggability.

Anyway quick updates.

Singapore
Spent 5 days on the island meeting everybody with Lionel. And by everybody, I literally mean EVERYBODY. Maomao, Jac, Viv and JingYe at Chomp Chomp; Sherene, Venki, and Baa at El-something at Holland V; my guardian and family at Tanjong Pagar; my bro at Ang Mo Kio; my Dad at Raffles Place and Xiaokai, Haoxiang, Mel and Sherene and Venki (again) at Sakae Sushi (its almost a tradition for my last meal in Singapore to be Sakae Sushi every time!).
5 lazy mornings spent just watching tv with Lionel, bickering about who should take a bath first. Being able to watch The Kumars at No. 42 is a luxury, alright? 5 lazy nights also spent watching tv, or wandering around Chinatown, or just watching the entire Les Mis 10th anniversary concert. You can't help but be lazy when you've eaten sooooo much! Lionel will just have to explain to my mum when she questions the amount of weight I've put on!

Fresher's Camp
So sorry that we had to push Cheng Chun on to the bus. Otherwise it was a fairly uneventful drive up to Tapah, with CL at the helm, Tao providing much entertainment and Ayish, Tock and I in the backseat playing up to Tao's antics. Our detour to Bidor was found out when around 6pm the juniors were ringing us to ask if we were lost. So nice of them. We didn't even tar pow anything for them. Except 4 kg of jambu batu.
Fresher's Camp was different this year. Freshers were different. I'd say good job done, but things could have been better. But given some last minute change of plans in the situation, I'd have thrown a hussy fit if I were them.
Was just nice spending time with Msoc people. Watching Tao rake in the laughs. Spreading gossip. Making fun of everyone and everything. I hate to say it, but the 3rd years stole the show at the camp... much like a favourite grandparent - spoiling the freshers by buying them ice cream and warning them not to tell the 2nd years in case we'd ruined their dinner.

And the rest...
I cannot stand the weather right now. I hate the humidity, the mosquitos and hot steering wheels! I think all Malaysian drivers were taught to drive by their mothers. I'm within arms reach of my Cleo magazine but it's boring me to death. I need a good book. Any good book. Tash Aw's Harmony Silk Factory would be nice. Pretty please?

If it makes me the bigger person, why not?

This was my e-mail to Nadia on 29 September 2005 (sent to mondayhater@gmail.com). If a personal e-mail really isn't sincere enough, well here it is again. It was the decent thing to do. Although I believe on the part of the offended, the decent thing to do in return would at least have been to reply my email or show some form of acknowledgement by leaving me alone. But if this is what it takes to be the bigger person:

From:	Yeow, Charlotte S C	Sent:	Mon 29/08/2005 18:41
To:	mondayhater@gmail.com
Cc:
Subject:

Attachments:

Dear Nadia,

I really think this would be better talking to you in person or over the phone, but that's quite difficult being all the way in Singapore.

However, I don't want to put this off any longer and I feel that I do owe you an apology and for your sake and the sake of your friends I need to explain myself and the post I wrote.

I agree that it was wrong of me to publish that particular msn conversation to a public audience. I overlooked the fact that you had been mentioned and to be honest the post was originally meant to ridicule Amar. Posting offensive comments about you without any self censorship was a terrible oversight, and for that I am really sorry.

I did not intend to be malicious when I said the things I said. After all it was a real life personal conversation that I had with Amar and it is only natural being friends that from time to time I'd condemn his past relationship to make him feel better. Its no different from telling my own girlfriends that their ex-es are evil scumbags even if in truth they were philanthropist adonis-like demigods. I have no doubt that your own friends criticise Amar to bits (and Amar and his quirks and mannerisms are undoubtedly prone to severe criticism), and I'd have to say I was doing the same. Being a friend, however thoughtless it was.

I have, since last Wednesday, modified the post such that it should no longer be offensive. I would however like to keep it published because even after censorship the main content still remains and since that is the reason I published it, I would like to keep it there as my usual audience thought it nothing more than a hilarious dialogue. They of course do not know who you are and believed you might have been as much a figment of Amar's imagination as his harem girls are.

That is all I can say in my defence. And I felt that I had to say something before your own friends embarass themselves and to stop my own friends from retaliating. I have no wish to be involved in anything between you and Amar, beside knocking some sense into his head from time to time. The both of you are too much alike and there is no use pitting fire against fire. Whatever Amar wishes to do to retaliate has nothing to do with me.

I do hope you enjoy the rest of your summer.

Regards,

Charlotte

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BAA!!!!
"And the High Sheep said - be the bestest, greenest lamb that you can be!"
God Bless!

*apologies for lack of updates... off to Tapah for the weekend*

On the sunny island Singapore...

So now that Amar has completely chickened out of the trip down to Singapore to say farewell to mao mao, guess it'll be the usual quiet bus ride without the excessive blabbering fanfare. I think I'll still have to hear the blabbering fanfare when I get back, but yeah, a few days without it would be even better. When are we starting the gay gym buddy thing, Amar? Chien Liq's got dips on becoming my gay gym buddy otherwise.

I'm not doing anything to help Amar. Perhaps I should?

Nah...

-------------
It just takes three days at home, just THREE, to realise that I am talking like my mother. It's the phrases, the diction, the 'holier than thou' way of talking. I love my parents, but the sickeningly unique individual inside of me is saying: "Go out and be your own person and not the porcelain model your mother carved out of you"

(Fidel, all this individualistic quirkiness must have rubbed off from you!)

And if I haven't said it before, I'll say it again. The plans for the upcoming Fresher's Camp look great! I couldn't be prouder of you guys. All the more I can't wait to meet up with my batch. To think that the last time we possibly sat down and had a good laugh together wasn't since the cast and crew dinner. Five months! The many ridiculous things that could have happened since then that we haven't had a chance to laugh over!
-------------

Last but not least, Singapore itinerary goes somewhere along the lines of:
1) Lunch with my brother to go through his incredibly long personal statement. CT Rep? CCA camp leader? Research work? Somehow he didn't think they were important enough to tell me about.
2) Say bye bye to mao mao
3) Meet the tchbs bunch (we were *this* close to not making it weren't we)
4) Meet odacians!!!
5) Visit my guardian
6) oh yes, see Nicole!
will add more to the list when I'm actually there...

pssst!!!

I'm home. Flight was surreal. Neither here nor there. London nor PJ.

All at once it feels as if I was at Gloucester Tube station just minutes ago and at the same time I don't think I ever left Malaysia.

A part of me always stayed right here with the paper thosai and pushy killer motorbikes. It's nice to see you again.

[oh yes, my sim card has gone awol so I have no handphone. the home number is the same as always. msn me if you need it. since when did msn become a verb?]

[[amar, we're goin to spore this wednesday. shall i book tickets? is good ol' mummy and daddy letting you out of the house yet?]]

On the virtue of selfishness and the incredulousness of it all!

So, this is the sixth and last week of our stay in 'the house that isn't ours'. It's been all so nice of Raymond and Shu Hui to make our stay as comfortable as they possibly can. It hasn't been so nice for us to have to foot half the rent of 'the house that isn't ours' for all 3 months of summer (and such a shock it was to discover it).

This has nothing to do with the members of 'the house that isn't ours' who have been trying their best to lessen our part of the payment by trying to find others to stay over summer (i.e. the above two). That leaves less people to speculate about, doesn't it?

This is infact an incredulous story of immense selfishness and scrooge-like miserliness, far greater than any I have heard before. Perhaps it is only right that we pay for their rent such that they are able to store their own things over summer for free. Perhaps it is only right that they take up a whole room to store their things such that Raymond and Shu Hui were forced to forgo an extra tenant whose share in the rent could have lightened the load. Perhaps it was only fair that they who are storing for free did nothing to ensure that there would be tenants over summer, but left the burden to their housemates who were staying for summer. Perhaps it is perfectly fine for them to now use the petty excuse "but that's what you said" to refuse our request for them to chip in 50 pounds each and instead accuse their housemates of going back on their word to let them store for free.

Self interest has become such an ugly word.

Harem Girl #34

... somewhere across 2 continents at 3 a.m. Malaysian time...

*~*Charlotte*~* says: what?
*~*Charlotte*~* says: are u still online?
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: no amar is sleeping
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: i'm number 34 in his harem
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: i'm just checkin my email
*~*Charlotte*~* says: how many more are there after you, number 34?
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: i don't really know, he won't say...
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: but i could guess...
*~*Charlotte*~* says: and does he satisfy you?
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: ohhh boy
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: i'm crashin over cos i still can't walk straight
*~*Charlotte*~* says: now now... we don't have to pretend here... amar's asleep isn't he
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: no - really
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: i sure as hell didn't leave my nail marks in his back by accident...
*~*Charlotte*~* says: out of malice i'm sure... *cough*
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: malice for making me come 3 times in a row?
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: haha darlin you're obviously jUSt a friend of his
*~*Charlotte*~* says: this must be why he hardly ever sleeps before midnight...
*~*Charlotte*~* says: so many women to attend to
*~*Charlotte*~* says: so little time
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: damn sometimes i wonder how he keeps goin like that
*~*Charlotte*~* says: perhaps it's artificial stimulants, or hmm... prosthetics
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: prosthetics?
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: i don't think sooo......
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: mind you i get a great view of it
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: and i can say its 100% natural schlong
*~*Charlotte*~* says: yeah... and it's potong-ed
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: all the yummier, darlin
*~*Charlotte*~* says: (i wonder what would happen if i blogged this)
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: haha i saw your blog from his favourites
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: i'd say it COUld use some spice
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: but i wouldn't know what he'd say
*~*Charlotte*~* says: i'm sure he wouldn't mind the world knowing about his schlong...
*~*Charlotte*~* says: i'd say there's only the possibility of one person refuting it
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: helloo
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: sounds like a story i don't know about
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: lemma have it!
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: i know i really shouldn't
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: but hell since you've piqued my interest
*~*Charlotte*~* says: ah, maybe you should whisper the word *name removed to protect the offended* into his ears one night...
*~*Charlotte*~* says: might instigate a rather surprising response...
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: aand what is that supposed to do?
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: is she like a nasty bitch of an ex or sumtin?
*~*Charlotte*~* says: i don't know.. he might just ferociously turn you over and shag you silly...
*~*Charlotte*~* says: and well, if you say she's a nasty bitch of an ex, then she's a nasty bitch of an ex
*~*Charlotte*~* says: i wouldn't put words in anyone's mouth
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: well i was just guessin'
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: so i guess you didn't know THat much then hmmn?
*~*Charlotte*~* says: well, besides the fact that she COULD do with *insert anything you want here*...
*~*Charlotte*~* says: no.. i don't suppose I know much
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: ho ho hooo
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: maakes sense
*~*Charlotte*~* says: but i suppose you get more than the simple back rubs and rose petal showers he gave her...
*~*Charlotte*~* says: mundane aren't they?
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: awww that sounds really sweet......
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: well he gets straight to the point
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: but he does it gooood
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: who needs all that sensual mushy shit when he ...
aMaR - gambling is baaaad says: well i shouldnt really get into details tho.
*~*Charlotte*~* says: no no you shouldn;t..
*~*Charlotte*~* says: keep checking your mail, girl.. now that's a good concubine

One for the reptiles...

Let it be known that I am no big fan of slimy, googly-eyed dinosaur descendants (tail-less ones in particular)

But I am a huge supporter of any opportunity that encourages the many voices of Malaysian youth to speak as one and be heard. Be it the lalat on the wall or the cicak on the ceiling, we're listening and observing, but by no means should we keep quiet!

Go see: The Cicak

thumbs up for This Guy, and the rest of the reptilian team!

--------------------------------------
In other news


The Helios Airways crash in Greece is a tragedy I would never wish to read about. Listening quietly to a Greek PhD student talk animatedly about it in the lounge of the Kennedy Institute did it no justice. From what I know of Greeks (and this is my opinion only), they love the sound of their own voice. But this was not the time to be regaling a horror with such exuberance. 121 people dead, 80% of them frozen to death before the crash. They deserve to rest in peace

I never wanted to go to Cambridge, mum

Cambridge is lovely. It makes you feel like being an all serious scholar and studying. It also makes you very tempted to run across the manicured lawns for fun. Apparently only the fellows are allowed to do so.

I can't help but feel relieved we can run, jump, lie, roll around Queens lawn all we want.

It rained such miserable rain today. The colleges still looked lovely in their sorry dripping wet state. The last time I was there some 8 or 9 years ago, it was part of my mother's careful strategy to inspire her first child to graduate from one of the oldest and grandest academic institutions in the world. I'm actually very glad that never happened. (I swear I reeeallly tried my best, mum!)

We (Lionel, Chun Xian - a classmate of Lionel's, and I) met up with Fidel and Jenny (both doing summer attachments there) and Song Choon (senior, doing his postgrad there) and Tzo Zen (Rafflesian alumnus and Cambridge undergrad).

Now that we're done with tedious introductions to everyone...

We saw a lot of the interwoven university town. We must have walked everywhere thrice. It's nice to have everything in walking distance of... well, everything, and being able to walk freely on cobbled 'pedestrians only' streets. However, the touristy feeling of Cambridge gets a little irksome after awhile. Imagine poking your head out of the JCR to find Japanese tourists taking photos at Queens Tower!

As much as I grudge Imperial for not having that old, classical academic institution look instead of its defiant glass and metal Tanaka building, I can't imagine wanting to be anywhere else but in this grand old city.

Oh and should Tzo Zen ever drop by this blog again, in restropect I realised what I said during lunch must have sounded terrible! I didn't 'remove' her link from my blog, I removed all my links when revamping this blog last year, and lost all my links in the process. Thus not remembering how I found her blog, I never relinked it. I've linked it back again after some searching. It's wonderful that google still keeps really old stuff in its caches. And I do like Tzo's site. It's all her. That's the kind of project I'd like to target this summer, saying that I recover from this malaise called procrastination.

I'm snowed in!

Wish it were half that exciting. I'm just locked in.

I took an hour getting dressed this morning, and when I was finally satisfied that I looked good enough to walk out of the door to college (and it was still early, mind you!) I could not find my keys! I searched everywhere. My table, Lionel's table, under the tables, under the beds, under my laptop, all my handbags... so when I'd finally pronounced my keys lost, I called Lionel.

"Did you take two sets of keys with you?"
"Why would I have two sets of keys?"
"Well you took my keys yesterday when you took the trash out, do you remember where you put it?"
"I really have only one set of keys with me. I'd know if I had two. Look carefully, you'll probably find it"

Fine! Can't argue with boyfriends who always think they know best, or do so because you allow them to think so.

I searched every visible inch of the flat again, and finally gave up. In immense self pity, I cooked myself an enormous lunch of 10 expired sausages and 4 grilled mushrooms and cheese. To cheer myself up I put tomatoes in two of the mushrooms. Useless info of the day. I'll put up photos of my little creation when I feel... motivated.

And while I was dicing tomatoes in my pretty red sparkly top which will not see the light of day today, Lionel called.

"Helloooo...?" he said, testily.
"HMmph" was my reply.
"I found the other set of keys. They were in my bag."

Oh well, all's forgiven.

I think I'll cook a tomato dish for dinner. Lionel abhors tomatoes.

Springs of Hope

I almost didn't hear the phone ringing while I was trying to scrub chilli oil stains off the stove. (Why am I cleaning stoves in the house that isn't ours? Don't ask. It's just me. I'm restraining myself from putting all their plates and cutlery back and cleaning out the drying rack.)

I almost didn't want to answer the call. It was definitely going to be another estate agent offering properties and we're just so tired of looking! All we want to do is sign that damn contract this evening.

But I answered it.
"Are you still looking for a flat? Redfield Lane? 380 a week?"

I think my prayers have been answered. There are moments like these, almost insignificant, but for a split second you think - God hears prayers, prayers not spoken or recited Hail Mary's for. Or maybe He hears my mother's fervant prayers. For her daughter to believe in lifting burdens up and letting everything go. Only divine intervention could have made her hopeless daughter answer a call she didn't feel like answering, admit that she was still looking even though she thought she had decided, make an appointment to view yet another house even though Lionel was getting grumpier by the day.

And like a moment of epiphany, iTunes has chosen to play

"... there will be an answer. Let it be... let it be..."

The little thrills...

of my daddy working in the government!

The Ministry of Trade and Industry to be precise (oh yes, dear old Aunty Rafidah is his boss, and the ministry is so filled with gossips at the moment that my mother daren't even discuss them with me in English for fear of bugs on the line, but scathingly warns me in Cantonese).

Just the last weekend I ranted to daddy about the ego-bashing Malaysia's bio-valley ("bio-what?", you say) received in Nature last week. [See a reprinted version here] . My daddy in his ever calm civil servant manner instructed me to e-mail the article to him which I obtained in pdf form from Lionel who had received it from A*Star (oh, the Malaysian bashing that's being circulated!)

My daddy responded this morning to tell me that he has passed on the article to the appropriate people and some action will be taken.

Oh, that makes me feel all warm inside. I have done my part in alerting the Malaysian government. A teeny weeny contribution from one of its young 'hopeful' citizens.

And I fear there will be more Malaysia-bashing (or Malay-bashing rather) from the International community to come. Like this commentary from the BBC. My country really is a lovely place. Rather silly people run it, that's all. And with an over achieving sibling down south, no wonder we never look too good.

Chicken soup for the trash

Never. Ever. Try Knorr's sachet of chicken noodle soup. Ever!

Even if you were caught between a can of beans and Knorr's chicken noodle soup, eat the beans I beg you!

It's pure ajinomoto with yellow colouring (which sticks to my ceramic spoon) and that's only on the surface. You can argue with me that I would happily eat unhealthy Indomee on any other occasion, but at least I don't use the ajinomoto laden bumbu sauce!

It's the vilest thing I have ever tasted. Even more vile than some of the putrid concoctions the very same owner of the chicken noodle soup can come up with. Lu, I swear if your tua chee brings back anymore of those corn soup and chicken noodle packets, I will throw the bitchiest hissy fit you would never wish to see!

On a different note. This is house viewing week. Which means I send out emails to lots of agents, hoping they will call me back, and when they do, I have to try and persuade them that I don't really want a luxury 500 pound flat, and just the backwater ones will do. A good lot of them don't sound too happy entertaining students. May their kids live at home and off their money forever.

We saw 3 flats yesterday, and we reeeeally like one of them which has a very cosy loft. It will be Lu's room, and Amar's crib when he comes to stay if we decide to get it. And its not too far from Tescos.

Will be viewing more flats today and tomorrow. Keeping fingers, toes, legs and eyes crossed!

Flower Power!

Regents Park in all its floral glory (with some fauna too!) And all thanks to my marvelous little Olympus... no thanks to Lionel's battery-less Nikon!


And right out of a 'flower power' hippie's van, we also got caught up in a charity concert, alternative version of Woodstock, aptly named - Fruitstock!



With its very own 'flower' van nonetheless

The Saturday and Sunday that comes before a Monday

The weekend is ending in an hour and a half, and I am just ready to knock off for the night! My feet are killing me, and I think my shoes have grown half a size smaller if that is possible.

I feel like I've been walking since Saturday afternoon, when we walked 20 minutes from Seven Sisters station to the Tottenham football stadium. Great seats, boring first half, amusing goals in the second half. I'm not a footie fan, but I now know the thrill of seeing a goal being scored before you very eyes and not seconds later on TV when you're getting munchies and miss the golden moment anyway. Understanding the offside rule will come later. That's advanced stuff.

After queueing halfway around the block to stuff ourselves into the Spurs store, we emerged pretty unscathed with a new cap for me and a new T-Shirt for the Spurs number one fan (who sits as calm as Buddha throughout the entire match!)

Then we made the long journey back to Kenway Road for the potluck dinner hosted by Xiao Yin. Loads of food. Too much food. But good food, nonetheless. However, maybe potatoes, pasta and all starchy stuff should be banned from pot lucks. It's really had to enjoy everything when you are stuffed after just 4 mouthfuls!

Today we wandered around and about Regents Park. By the time we reached the London Zoo it was too late to get in, and Lionel's camera had run out of battery. My camera worked like a charm. I love my little Olympus. Who needs those huge heavy-ass cameras when my little mju 300 and a bit of twiddling with Picassa will do the trick!

Photos to follow soon. I just need a long long nap now.

The Photo Meme

*This has got to be one of the 'funnest' memes I've done in awhile! I didn't have to rack my brains to write a single humourous word and knock about the dust bunnies in my skull while I'm at it. All I had to do was to type in my answers in a Google Image Search and use my almighty optical mouse to select the image I liked best! *clasps hands in kawaii-ness glee*

Oh shudder! Shall stop that for now.

*courtesy of my niece, aun teeng.

1. The age you will be on your next birthday

2. Your favourite colour

3. Your middle name

4. The place you lost your virginity or would like to if you could
(type places like "my bed", "the woods", "onboard the startrek mothership")

5. A bad habit of yours

6. Your favourite fruit or vegetable

7. Your favourite animal

8. The city you live in

9. The name of a pet

10. Your best friend's nickname

11. Your first name

Your last name

The one you love

If my mother sees the news in London today, I can bet you I'll be hauled home in no time at all. It's getting harder and harder to convince the world outside London that things are alright here and that I will not use the tube.

I am however feeling slightly relieved knowing that in 2 weeks time I'll be home. It may not be safer. I daren't even walk the streets of PJ alone after dark the way I do here. But at times like these, it's sometimes better to be in a moderately Muslim region, isn't it?

In other news:
Quirky penis jokes

courtesy of who else? maybe it should read Quirky's penis jokes. But that just sounds wrong...

During lunch yesterday we discovered that only Adam and I had finished the 6th Harry Potter book, that Hugo abhors Harry Potter ("Where's the child in you?!?"), and Kunal... well Kunal just doesn't read at all.

Inspired by our trivial lunch time conversations, I ditched trying to detect cepstrums (don't ask!) to finish off the book I've had my nose stuck in for a week.



It's gripping, it's chilling, and its startling to read it late at night when the water pipes get cranky and bring on the spooky drumming noises. How the house that does not belong to us can ignore those LOUD drumming noises, I just can not understand. But the book's good. It makes me cry. Quietly. Slavery is really no different from rearing cattle.

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I've reached a Nirvana-esqe level of procrastination. I really have to get this project going somewhere. But I just can't swallow anymore of these equations, algorithms, incantations and muddle-isms! It's amazing how easily the human brain just shuts down when one is not in danger of failing exams. All my faculties of reasoning are on permanent 'out for lunch' mode. Not surprising. They are Malaysian after all.

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I've got 3 weeks left in London, and all of a sudden my social calendar is ready to burst. There's football this Saturday, and a potluck to herald the arrival of Kwan Eng's girlfriend. In the meantime Sherene has given Ritwik and I strict orders to meet up. This is going to be so interesting. I haven't the faintest clue what Ritwik looks like! The following weekend will be spent at Cambridge. Can we raid YOUR fridge for a change, Fidel? Maybe we should bring the fruit liquor you bought us and get rightly high! I'd drink it, but Lionel already says I'm alcoholic enough without needing your fruit liquors to tempt me.

I have also promised my old roommate (the Claudia Schiffer duplicate - but oh so brainy) Kristina that we have to meet up. Maybe I should invite her over for dinner. Miss her so much.

And just yesterday we had coffee with Angela. Boy is life much less exciting when she isn't around to shock your synapses. I hope we've persuaded her to never try bringing back weed to Singapore, ever again!

My ever loving ISE classmates have also made an alarming vow to get me out clubbing. They won't accept my feeble excuses of "No! I really DON'T club!" (Liar!) "... and I don't DRINK!" (Who are you trying to kid?) "... and my boyfriend won't let me go!" (Oh alright then...). I'm glad that one always works.

And I really don't club. I know Kunal says I used to be at the union in my first year, dancing, chatting up and being chat up. But first year is a wild card year. Anything goes. Including my money. I've sobered up, and I have no excuses (apart from the fact that I always have enough money now). I am a party pooper. I'll still drink though, I just won't go pub crawling with you guys.

Peanut butter your way to a girl's heart

I stumbled onto a blog which had the opening scene of Meet Joe Black. Sherene and I watched it illegally after A-Level Further Maths, when it was supposed to be lights-out... and gushed about Brad Pitt and peanut butter for days on end. The coffee house scene in Joe Black is every girl's dream, or at least mine (although I have to quickly add that I am happy with what I've got, and no, it doesn't hurt to wish for more romance in my life).

Sherene, the above link is for you!

We're having primordial soup for dinner, honey? Is that ok?

Nothing makes me happier than waking up late, defrosting some chicken while I chat with Sugi and take a bath (not simultaneously), and then marinating it in some concoction that I will only know the results of when I see the look (grimace) on Lionel's face tonight.

I wish I didn't have to graduate with an engineering degree, aim for a 5 figure salary, and buy a Jaguar before earning the right to become a tai tai. I would just buy the Jaguar, with or without an engineering degree. But, I think I can do without knowing how to prove the Nyquist theorem in order to spend my lifetime doing simple, fulfilling things - like making chicken soup on a rainy day and sorting out the spice cabinet.

Oh, before I forget - Happy 21st Birthday Xiao Kai. Wishing you many piggy years ahead. One day the world will say "Yes, he was the greatest slut that ever lived". Only Shan'er would disagree. He'd say you were the biggest bitch alive. Ah, only you would know that insults are worth their weight in gold! Since you're always on the receiving end of them.

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We've been spending our weekends walking. In the beginning, it was because I couldn't bear to remain in the house that isn't ours, so he'd take me out, to run errands or just do nothing. We never really know where we're going to end up. It's always just "Let's go see this", or "I can't sit down after eating so much, let's go walk around". And then we'll wind up in King's Road dropping into Habitat and John Lewis and other home-making shops, wistfully wanting the comfy looking hammock and toe-snuggly rugs that cost an arm and a leg and half a kidney. Or we'll walk down Knightsbridge and laugh at the outrageously snooty things in the luxury rooms of Harrods and Harvey Nicholls, and sometimes I'd try them on for kicks. Or we'd walk from Edgware to Paddington, in search of a path we've never been down, just to see what it looks like, and wind up having dinner at Queensway. Or find ourselves on Regents Street where the discovery of Godiva chocolate milke shake (a dark, dark beauty) was made! The sun that never sets, only makes it easier. The autumn winds that are warning of the returning cold can't hold us back. We're going to make it all the way to Camden one of these days. We'll talk and walk and this will be the summer of our lives. Autumn will never come. Or so we believe.

glibbleblubbledish...

I laughed when I woke up this morning. I had the weirdest dream!

I dreamt of Odac!

Batch xvii to be exact. It wasn't what I was dreaming about, but just dreaming about batch xvii, that's really strange. I haven't dreamt about them since I left JC, but for the first time in a long time I saw all of you there! I think we were camping somewhere as usual, and I was doing my usual boh liao secretary thing, trying to register all of us for something by regurgitating all 19 of our full names and details off the top of my head, and Luke was telling me to hurry up or something to that effect. I think he even tried to snatch away the list to write it up himself!

And no, I don't remember all our details off the top of my head. Not anymore.

A short while later Raymond's girlfriend calling all the way from Singapore reeeeally woke me up, bright and early at 8am! So by the time Chien Liq called at nine-something, I was wide awake and reading the IEE review. Aargh! I have no life to be reading engineering magazines early in the morning.

CL arrived at our doorstep 40 minutes later with all his South African baggage. We did the usual, story swapping, photo swapping, gossip swapping... and now he's on a plane back to Malaysia. That's REAL jet-setting for you!

Lionel and I would have gone to check out the village fete at the V&A but the weather was really moody today. Raining on and off. As London weather should. As London weather would.

I don't mind Saturdays spent lazily lounging around at home. It beats lounging around on weekdays when you really feel you should be doing something substantial. Its almost like I've been programmed to think a weekday is completely wasted if I haven't done anything tiring. Whereas a Saturday spent lazily chatting, reading, surfing, diving under the covers is worth every minute of it!

Lionel's booked us tickets to watch a football match next week (Spurs vs FC Porto). Yay! My first live football match ever! I'm such a footie virgin. I really wish I had bought that nike jersey that was on sale last week, now that I have a good excuse to wear it!

We're making plans to go to Cambridge too. See Fidel, we're making an effort to come and visit you! Can we go punting if the weather's good? I won't sink the boat, I promise!

What's in a face?

Here's what I do on Monday mornings. I have really large inertia when it comes to switching from lazy hazy weekends to workaholic Mondays. I don't abhor Mondays, I just... can't seem to get into 3rd or 4th gear...

So instead of going into labs bright an early last Monday, I was surfing around, snooping into other blogs, reading my usual 'femes' blogger lists... and well, kennysia's introduction to www.faceanalyzer.com was just too tempting. I have since passed it on to Fidel (who I am beginning to suspect is a bigger narcissist than I am) and since he put up his analysis (what's the plural of analysis? analysi?) and so did a few others... here's my own analysis, for laughs. And when I say my own analysis, I don't just mean MY own face.

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The first photo I uploaded is a classic one! My black and white, JC prom photo. Maybe slightly inacurate since it was black and white and not really a photo of my face alone.



So I tried looking for a photo of just my face, which is not very easy because I have lost a whole lot of photos taken before this year. But I found this one - back in my innocent (*snort*) boarding school days. 97% south east asian is a lot better than 100% Chinese in my books!



Alright, so the above is a really old photo, and doesn't really count. So I skimmed through the M-Nite photos and found this - taken right after M-Nite when I was just this close to collapsing from a mixture of exhaustion, elation, and pure sweet relief! I blame the race inaccuracy on the thick layers of make up!!!



Then I tried a really recent photo, and guess what? No difference. I'm crushed!



In a final desperate attempt I decided to go back to photo 1 and zoom in just on my face, and well, I'm quite happy with this analysis. (Just ignore the high gay factor... Amar, CL, no "I told you so"s)



I guess I can conclude that I'm either meant to be a white collar worker, or a beta academic. Wonderful. I'm almost there!

But enough about me. You can bet I didn't hesitate trying the face analyser on my dearest friends! Lionel didn't like this analysis of him, too 'mr. nice guy'



So I tried a more recent photo, which makes him look like a Sunni Arab after he shaved his head and got tanned under the Spanish sun. I think he looks more like the Dalai Lama, than a Japanese Emperor!



Here's Lu! I don't think he'll forgive me for using this photo from Chinese New Year, but not a bad one huh, Lu? Jay Chou, wei....



And of course we couldn't resist testing if Amar is really gay. I guess not. But we'd need more photos to make it really conclusive.

The unspoken truth is often the harshest...

Suhaini Aznam's analysis speaks for all of us not at the UMNO assembly. The things we want to say about the things that were not said! So much for being 'glocal'.

"Even as the economy was the main concern over the four days, not one delegate chose to laud (or deride) the de-pegging and its potential effects on Malaysian businesses, in particular Malay business, big or small. The bumi entrepreneur, whom everyone was ostensibly championing, was left scratching his head by the wayside."

"The second London failed-attack took place on July 21, midway through the assembly. Egypt’s Sharm el-Sheikh resort was hit two days later – significant in that Egypt is considered the model of Islamic moderation.
Malaysia, too, is a moderate Islamic country. Yet among delegates, the bombings received only passing mention. Delegates, pressmen and self-important observers waltzed in and out of the Putra World Trade Centre with only their tags.[...]
Cosy in their Malay cocoons, the spectre of universal terrorism seemed to totally escape the 2,500 delegates."