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."

Icey cold summer mornings!

It's 13 degrees!!! Autumn just can't wait to get here, can it? Of all the mornings I choose to see my professor. I just want to hide under the duvets and not worry about voiced and unvoiced speech signals! I'm shivering as it is - bum on a cold, cold chair, braving the chill in my shorts to write this post.

Lionel says my last post was very bhb, and engineers are not in the least modest! That's what you get for loving a little gossip queen like me. I tell all with unabashed abandon.
[But I am extremely greatful to the good Lord above for this mercy (which isn't 'small' as Khim Nyang, reminded me). My mother sent me an sms to 'order' me to be thankful, and I am. When I really think about it, all those study groups I skipped to do mundane M-nite stuff, like cutting tickets, or those mornings where I couldn't wake up for lectures after spending late nights working on the script or poster designs, and all my courseworks which got abysmal grades because I put them way way way down on my priority list, with Mnite being right on top... I was praying for no more than a 2-1. But Cheng Chun's right, I wouldn't have had it any other way. I only get to be M-nite scriptwriter and over all 'little miss bossy' once in my life!]

So to offset yesterday's post, here's the proof you've all been waiting for. That I'm really a geek! (I know Andy might read this, but... I promise to never reproduce any conversation that puts you on my bad ISE list!)

Me: and why am i even looking at the courses! i've got another 2 months of summer to waste and i'm thinking about next academic year???
Andy: we're so bad!
Me: we're geeks!
Andy: as if we needed anymore proof!
Me: taking ISE is pretty solid proof already...
Andy: at Imperial no less!
Me: lol, we're all destined to be geeks
Andy: maybe i can escape geekdom by renouncing star wars, deleting my compiler, giving up caffeine and getting a girlfriend.
Me: now..really...
Me: HOW can u give up caffeine???
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Doesn't look like the weather is going to get any warmer. I want to go home to perpetual summer! I'm not very sure what my summer plans back home are like yet, but I know I have to:
1. Go to Penang and eat everything there
2. Spend a day with Charme doing absolutely nothing and lazing around in my room, or her room, or some room (this actually sounds dodgy, especially after I told CL to ignore my saphist tendencies) and pass her winter wear.
3. Go down to Singapore to see my brother, Odacians (the ones who are left), Sherene, Baa, Venki, and yeah, you. I promise not to send faulty emails this time.
4. Spend a few hours a week getting insulted (no that's too mild, getting my ego torn to shreds), by the BBians and Sugi.
5. Eat everything in KL.
6. Buy new jeans! The ones I have keep falling down! Lionel can bear witness to it.
7. Find old friends, and meet up! (That's a new one, you know how unbearable old-school gatherings are for me)
8. Get together with the MSoc people (you wouldn't believe that the last time I saw any of them was possibly before Easter holidays in April! and we're in the same college!!!) for MURNIs, for Tao's sake.
9. And just do everything I want to do, because I'm not coming back for Christmas this year.

Waiting for the temperature to rise before I scurry to the bathroom!

Small mercies...

My mother woke up the entire house with her phone call at 8am. Apparently she had just received my results and was much too anxious to check with me the mark for a 1st class. After I reassured her that it was indeed a first class (*tiny whoop of joy*... very tiny because still very sleepy), she proceeded to read out all my individual marks which REALLY woke me up!

My best score was in Discrete Math and Computational Complexities??? 95??? Even I don't believe I did that!

Actually I should be happy to see any marks above 90 at all. Even the 80 for Software Engineering, after missing out on the last two chapters which I didn't know were there... I'm baffled. And I just scraped through with a 67 for Modern Literature & Drama, after writing the most awful essays! Thank goodness! I wouldn't know how to explain a plummeting average just because of a humanities course!

Discrete Math, Communications and Controls tops the list. Digital just managed to scrape through the 1st class mark. Everything else is as expected, even Dr. Nabar's nasty Stanford standard Signals and 'Seesteems'! (What an aliteration!).

Second year is finally over! Going back to sleep...

After church on a Sunday,

I'm thinking...

Sachpal's got it right - "wat is da world comin to? UMNO wans everything, terrorists bombing everything... and i have nuthin!"

I would run too, if plain clothed police men were hot on my tail for no reason. And then I would end up dead! A victim of circumstances!

Mr and Mrs Smith is a pretty stylish movie. Unbelievable, but oh the pizzazz! I'm a little behind on movies, I know.

We're buying meat from Fulham market from now on. I can't believe the selection! It's like being in supermarket paradise.

I don't think many godly things on a Sunday, do I? If I think of more, I'll write them down.

Thing's fall apart, the centre cannot hold...

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world?

Yeats had better not be right, because this is scary!

The man pumped with 5 bullets at Stockwell station yesterday, had nothing to do with the bombs! He was innocent. We'll maybe not that innocent to be running away from police. A petty thief maybe? A pai kia? A Brazillian who didn't understand why the Met Police were chasing at his heels?

When even the Met Police are shaken and now shoot to kill at the slightest instigation, how much more reassured can we civillians be? How much longer can we stay the courageous, resolute Londoners the world has been praising? Are the cracks starting to show through?

No where on earth is safe.
Today we look at Egypt and say Deus vobiscum
For always we think of those who cause it and we say Deus Misereatur

And yet today, much to my mother's horror, we were out wandering idyllically along Knightsbridge, shopping at Harrods and Harvey Nicholls and even paying the dinosaur exhibit a visit at Natural History, just because I wanted to say hi to the new (and slightly improved) T-Rex. Youth knows no fear!
It's what my mother would say.

What IS happening?

Police have just shot dead a man suspected to be a bomber outside Stockwell tube station.
News here and at Londonist.com

What's scary is that witnesses claimed that police:

'"pushed him to the floor, bundled on top of him and unloaded five shots into him"

Shooting to disarm or disable is somewhat necessary. Shooting to kill - now that's scary. The Muslim council is now asking for an explanation. How can this be explained?

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I'm not scared enough to want to go home yet. My route everyday is just between Imperial and my temporary flat and occasional side trips to Starbucks. I'm not in the busy CBD, in fact I'm right beside the very gentle Natural History Museum and V&A (and I know I'll just cry if Natural History is bombed! I love that museum! But what's the point of bombing tourists and dinosaur bones?) And just TRY bombing Imperial. We're so tiny we'll rebuild in 5 minutes! That's not to say we're not a likely target; an institution with some of the greatest minds in the world! But we're protected by dear Sir Alexander Fleming's ghost in the Chem Labs to say the least. And that's if we don't implode on one of our own experiments in the deep recesses of our labs!

But above all, I know I'm just not scared because my faith says I needn't be.

Everything's alright, Yes, everything's fine

An attack that failed.

That's what it was. Just partially exploded devices.
It's being played down really well everywhere. The BBC's pretty calm about it, no need for unnecessary public panic. Tony Blair has urged everyone to go on with their lives as normal. Even the Rector at Imperial College sent an email that was rather different from the one two weeks ago, almost like a memo, alerting us of the news and telling us to go about as normal but otherwise stay where we are. I mean, sure we're shaken, but they are not going to terrify us into living our ordinary lives in ways less ordinary. In fact we're gonna live them extraordinarily! Hell, we're going to keep walking down those streets, into those tube stations and onto those buses.

(Well, not me... my dad's banned me from taking any form of public transport for now. Although I probably might still, just don't tell him!)

And it's cool and the ointment's sweet
For the fire in your head and feet
Close your eyes
Close your eyes
And relax
Think of nothing tonight

It's happening all over again

No need to be alarmed.
BBC says there has been a few minor explosions about an hour ago
3 stations evacuated - Warren Street, Oval and Shepherd's Bush
A number 26 bus along Hackney Road had its windows blown out
Nothern, Victoria and Hammersmith and City Line are suspended and that's the best transport for london can say for now, but there are talks of several other stations being closed.
Only one injury so far, no casualties... but the order now is to stay where we are.
Just like 2 thursdays ago.
Don't be alarmed.
London is going to overcome this, somehow...

Stay tuned for updates.
The regular sound of sirens passing by is giving me the creeps.

blubberish!

...comes and goes as she likes...
...finds it hard to wake up before 10...
...gets nervous sitting on the top deck of buses alone...
...cringes at dirty kitchens...
...and blotchy bathroom sinks...
...runs around london when the sun is out...
...hides in her makeshift room when the wind is blowing...
...thinks spending a day reading in the natural history museum might be fun...
...otherwise, starbucks has always got a corner for her...
...should be doing work, but has she ever?...

Who's finished Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince? Oh, quick you guys, hurry up and read it!! I'm dying to discuss it with somebody, but I can't say anything about it here because it will just kill the usual surprises which are on almost every page in this book! So far I know Andy (my classmate) and Aimran have finished it. Andy finished it just 5 hours after it was released at the stroke of midnight!
I have to mention though, for Londoners, some events are just too freakishly coincidental, it's giving me goosebumps!

Oh, did I also mention that I got my copy of Harry Potter for just 7.99 pounds? That's about RM55, that's about 24.00 SGD, that's part of the thrill of walking all the way from Edgware Road to Oxford Street to Regent Street to Leiceister Square to find that your favourite bookshop never fails you! And yes, yes! I didn't just get one book. I got two! I'm so over-elated, you'd be daft not to notice it! Lionel thinks I'm being really silly over a children's story book, but *muaks* he's been really patient throughout my anxiety attacks when I discovered Amazon had failed me and had not managed to deliver my book to me! I'm a digbat, I know...

Off to BBQ now...

Adieu, Emperor's Gate, adieu...

It's been a really long day after a really long night. After several trips on to Raymond's flat on Thursday, trying to transfer another load of the useless junk we've collected (and this was after we had siphoned away the REALLY useless junk like Bob, our dead Xmas pine tree and Amar's bathrobe), Lionel and I rolled up our sleeves and practically polished the entire house. And I mean it.
All evening, right up till 11pm, we were on our hands and knees, scrubbing the lime scales off the shower floor, wiping away the many finger prints on the walls (and yes, Lu, I actually managed to disguise the mark left by the chin-up bar! We will NOT be using it next year unless there's wooden panelling!), scouring every corner of the kitchen, painstakingly trying to remove every little spot of grease around the stove and its surrounding cupboards.
By the time we dropped into our beds, exhaustion hit us like a runaway train (oh that was such a bad simile), and I had awful dreams all night. Like the kind of dreams you get before exams where you don't have enough time to finish studying, except this time I probably didn't have enough time to clean the whole flat twice.
Lionel had to get up bright and early this morning to go to Charing Cross, and I thought I'd slowly move more stuff over and clean up a few more things before the Antonios come round to check the place in the evening, but NO! Luigi (no relation to Super Mario), turns up at the door and says we have to move out by 4.30pm latest! Time check - it's already 12.30pm!
The race against time to move and pack and clean is really much worse than trying to answer enough digital electronics questions in two hours. I have no other method of gauging time. I'm pathetic! Anyway, I made two trips to Raymond's place on my own with my 60litre backpack, but decided against a third trip on my own after one of the mechanics along the way called out to me and asked me if I would like to meet his friend. Dodgy! Back home, I was calling Lionel at hourly intervals and asking him why he wasn't coming home yet, while trying to do more cleaning and moving everything out of the rooms and the kitchen.
Finally at 4.15, Lionel came home and we moved most of the stuff to Raymond's place by cab, hoping Luigi would be late. And of course Luigi was late! We should have known Luigi is never reliable, and not only was he late! I had to call his mother to ask why no one had shown up yet to check us out of the flat!
So after Lionel made a quick trip to Raymond's place with our last few things, Luigi appeared at 5.40 and proceeded to inspect all the rooms by turning all the mattresses upside down (did he think we peed on them?), and flicking all the cupboard doors open. To my joy he proclaimed our flat the cleanest he'd ever seen, which he said was very rare and that we'd done a really good job. Unfortunately we still got 150 pounds deducted for the burn mark on the kitchen top. But Mrs Antonio is still raving about how unusual it is for a tenant to leave a house so clean! They made my day! God, help me! I'm such an obsessive compulsive!
Well, here we are now, in Thomas and Yanda's room. A quarter of the room is piled like a junk heap with all our pots and pans and kitchen stuff and books. We are keeping the bulk of our household items. A little unfair, but what must be done must be done. We also did the bulk of the cleaning without Yi Shan. You owe us, big time!!!
I need sleep, but I'm missing Emperor's gate and my big big room already. It really was such a lovely flat (when it was clean...), my haven of rest after tiring M-Nite days, my dream kitchen with all the space and cupboards in the world!, my lovely room with the sofa where we watched many Amazing Races under fleece blankets, the cool summer days where the temperature drops once you walk down the stairs to our basement flat, the many Bobs that have passed through its door...
You will always be remembered. In the many quips we will make, and the stories we will tell...

following up on the meritocracy debate...

Wan Aimran, one of my juniors here in Imperial who's been following my education/government/meritocracy posts, so kindly alerted me to this:

HARDCOPY: Time to get over meritocracy phobia

You all are worse than my mum!

grammatically speaking, that should read 'all of you are...' but real English just doesn't have that added punch of in-your-face Manglish.

but I digress.

The last thing Charme said to me was: just drop a line a day on your blog so that we know you're safe! :)

Come on! Even my mum has stopped calling everyday!

[oh but I DO love all this sudden concern and love!]

My mum really annoyed me yesterday. But in retrospect, the things she says are hilarious! Heaven knows what the Malaysian papers are saying (or showing) about the London bombings, but its got alot of Malaysians more worried than the Londoners, and that includes my ever paranoid and over-protective mother. Yesterday, she called me and devised a security plan for me should I ever be stuck inside Marks & Spencer in the event of a bomb scare. (It's happened to her before, you see. Back in the 70's). Why Marks & Spencer? Because it's owned by Jews - a possible target, no?

I know my mother worries because she is a mother and mothers worry (and I just know I will turn into her one day!), but I swear it is going to test every fibre of my patience to go home this summer and be under her care. Since my dad's recovery from cancer, there is not a single item of food that my mother does not scrutinise for preservatives, genetic-modification, carsinogens, sugar, vitamin C produced the wrong way, eggs laid by the wrong chickens and who knows what else! Sometimes it seems that everything I eat or buy is unhealthy or cancer-inducing, one way or another. She's even got me taking these pills to boost my immunity, which is possibly a placebo as I haven't been taking them, and my housemates got sick instead of me! (The only time I was sick this year was due to MNite and no amount of immunity pills could have prevented fatigue and stress!). I'm okay with the cod liver oil and the vitamin C and maybe the vegetable supplements because we don't eat enough veggies in this house (you hear that, Lu??). But other than subscribing to the 8 glasses of water a day, 7 hours of sleep and heaps of veggies and fruits health plan, I believe my mother needs to learn how to take everything else in moderation.

My mum just reminded me yesterday not to bring any cookies or artificially sweetened dried fruits (and a bunch of other stuff I've forgotten) back from London. I am going to need a magnifying glass to carefully read the labels of anything I intend to bring home as gifts! She also mentioned that she shouldn't be telling me what to do as I am officially all of twenty-two years. But.. sigh! I can do anything I want in London, but hey, she's the boss at home! At least she still allows me to eat hawker food (because she knows the hawkers personally and has possibly inspected all their ingredients herself).

London, paranoid?

Londoners have been urged to return to normal life. That means - go to work! use the buses! use the tube! relive the hustle and bustle of one of the busiest cities in the world as if crazed terrorists never showed their venomous hatred towards us. Show them we're not afraid.

And just after I'd told haoxiang that I don't really feel any different living in a city that's been under seige, on my way to Starbucks (my new haven for a comfy spot to do some reading) at the crossroads of Cromwell Road and Gloucester Road, I saw a huge black cloud of smoke rising from one of the buildings facing Natwest (next to the money changer). My first instinct was to kay poh as I was at a perfect spot to watch the drama of fire engine trucks racing down Cromwell road, followed later by police cars and an ambulance. After 5 minutes, I figured that they should be able to get the situation under control pretty fast, so I went into Starbucks to order my Caramel Frappucino (I swear it's not helping the fats... oh yes, with cream please!). But from inside Starbucks you could see ash spewing onto the streets and they stopped serving us at Starbucks due to the 'dangerous situation' outside. People were starting to leave Starbucks, and cashiers and waiters were running out of KFC and Illy cafe and Burger King - some to kay poh, others just wanting to get as far away as possible in case it was more than just a house fire.

Since it was a hot day and I really needed to get my readings done, I walked to the Starbucks at Sainsbury's. Two hours later, on my way back, even more fire trucks were along Cromwell road and even more police. They'd managed to cordon off the entire stretch of Cromwell road from Natwest till the Natural History Museum. There wasn't anymore smoke, and I don't think anyone was badly hurt because the ambulances were still there but not doing anything, but you could see that alot of extra precaution was being taken. I mean, we didn't even see this much drama last year, not even a fire truck, when smoke was spewing out the fourth floor of Linstead Hall due to someone's cooking accident last year!

It has affected us. Paranoia is here to visit for awhile.

On the meritocracy debate...

Such people make me worry like hell for the future of my nation when they say things like this.

And then, some make you sigh with relief like this. It's a small glimmer of hope in a vast, dark ocean.

News bytes courtesy of Education in Malaysia.

The day after

We are all waking up to an uneasy calm in the city. Lionel and I have decided to stay home from work.

My desktop latest news update has beeped that the death toll has risen to 50. There are still bodies in the underground, being removed at Russell Square. Although many tube services are up and running, the Hammersmith and Circle Line are still closed for now, and delays and limited services are to be expected. Buses are running, but with extra high security. I don't think anyone is going to do any travelling for now. It's not that the probability of another bomb will be high (security will be at its maximum today), it's just the unease of being able to trust any form of transport, or any public spaces for that matter.

If you are feeling helpless, try donating blood -
call 0845 7711711 (uk residents only)
Thanks to this guy.

The weather today is still dismal.
Will be staying tuned to the news and working on my sound signals for the time being.

We're all clearly shaken and understandably paranoid. Even here at Imperial!

I appreciate the concern! *hugs*

I also have to say thanks for all the smses and calls and msn messages and helping me follow the news.
I can't sms back still, but I really appreciate your prayers and concern! Keep praying, not just for the victims, but for those responsible for these tragedies!

So silly, should have made it clearer. Lionel's at Charing Cross hospital doing a research placement for the summer. But he's home now. They told everyone in the labs to go home if they had nothing left to do to avoid the traffic jam that was sure to build up. But even as they were leaving the jam had already started.

Lionel had to walk an hour to get home, in the rain, nonetheless.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are staying home and listening to the radio. My live BBC telecast has stopped working. BBC's bombarded right now. Plenty of varying news reports coming in. First they said it was 7 blasts. Now it seems there were only 4 confirmed explosions which occured on the lines in between 7 stations and well as a bus that exploded and its top was completely ripped off. BBC's website still only reports 2 official deaths, but radio news is bringing in numbers in the twenties. Several serious casualties, people with lost limbs and burn victims. I don't know if anymore people are still being evacuated out of the underground, the last I heard there were still passengers waiting to be evacuated.

There's little connection with the outside world, although telecommunication lines are slowly coming back to life, but its only understandable that they'd be all choked up. My only communication with anybody at all is through the Internet (and strangely through my 3G phone, why it only works at times like these baffles me!)

My mother has managed to speak to me and my father says to come home.

You never imagine you'd be in a situation like this. It's rather dream like. And not a nice one at all!

What a bomb!

We're alright. Lionel's currently stuck in Charing Cross hospital, but we've decided its best that he stays there for now anyway.

Everyone's staying put for now. So far its been 6 blasts and 2 fatalities. A bus and 5 tube stations.

Phone lines are choked. Msn is my only medium of communication right now.

Stay tuned and pray!

Thanks for the worrying and concern.

5 day week system for schools next year

I knew this would happen! I told you this would happen! And right in the Star today:
Saturday school activities still on

but...

There's always a but. School uniformed groups should start lobbying against this!

I hope Paris wins the bid!

It's just a few more hours.
I'm not backing the bid.

It doesn't seem fair that all of London's transport systems, utilities and the entire city itself will only be spruced up and be given a major upheaval if we win the bid.
It's not fair that the major hike in bus and tube fares will increase even more when three new stations have to be built for the Olympic village.
Why can't they clean up London without an Olympic contract? God only knows how much that needs to be done! We've been screaming about it for oh so long!

Yesterday Venki came down from Barking to walk around central London with Lu and me. We walked past the London Eye, then across the Thames to say hi to Big Ben and Westminster, then caught a bus to Chinatown and after a hearty lunch walked down to Leicester Square and then to Covent Garden where we watched several street performers and musicians, and toured all of the insides of the London Tranport Museum's shop. The Museum itself would have cost a freaking 5 quid!

Then we came to the conclusion that there was just nowhere else to go. It was raining, and thus the British Museum was a very long wet walk away. The Covent Garden performers were also taking shelter from the rain. And everything was just wet and gloomy and it felt like April showers were back again. So we went home.

What I love about London are the parks, the free museums, the kebab stalls, roast duck, krispy kremes and Covent Garden. But it just takes an annoying drizzle to spoil half of that. That and the words 'not in service' at the tube.

Booked, tagged and bound!

Yeap, I copied the title right off your blog, Sher. Hope you don't mind.

So after a lazy hazy day, spent lounging around doing various errands and then getting a cuppa with Ayish followed by more lounging around in my room watching the M-Nite dvd again and talking about the 'old days' (how can we ever get tired of our baby?), what better way can I end my day with than filling in a book tag!

Total number of books I own: I buy almost every book I read (I don't believe in borrowing or loaning or stealing etc.), so erm... that's a pretty big collection. I intend to house a library one day.

Last Book I Bought: Ooh, I went on a book spree a short while before my exams with Lionel. We came back with no less than 8 books, me thinks. Among them were Fly: an experimental life, and The Chinese Experience

Last Book I was gifted: Well, erm, here's the joke. I don't remember being given any books in the last few years. You'd think people wouldn't think I was a book aficianado. If you did give me a book and I've forgotten, well message me and I'll edit this!

Last Book I Read: The Da Vinci code. I don't believe it and I do not subscribe to it.

Currently Reading: Does the Glamour magazine I bought at the airport count? Oh fine, I'm starting on Angels and Demons. I'm not a Dan Brown fan, in fact I think he's awful, but since its sitting prettily in my fireplace, I might as well.

Five Books that mean a lot to me:
You are kidding! You can't make me choose! Alright, off the top of my head...

1) Everything Is Illuminated - Jonathan Safron Foer
I just took one look at the cover and I knew I had to have it, read it, know it!
2) The Remains of The Day - Kazuo Ishiguro

If you had to take a pause in life and look down the fork in the road, this is a book you should have by your bedside. Don't ask me why. I just felt that way about it, reading it after Prelims in my little hostel room in Singapore.

3) Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe

It isn't so much the story that means a lot to me, it's the people I read it with, the long forgotten times spent analysing it, tearing it apart and then seeing it in a new light, back in Mrs Menon's dining hall on hot Saturday afternoons. And then, things fell apart. Where's the centre we had now?

4) High Fidelity - Nick Hornby
The beginning of my love affair with Nick Hornby, Helen Fielding, and all other witty, tongue in cheek, satirical authors. I dedicate this top 5 list to High Fidelity.
5) Jane Eyre & The Professor - Charlotte Bronte
She's my namesake, and I can't choose between these two books. I love them both. There's also Shirley, but it's almost like Jane Eyre. I liked the Professor a little bit better because it had a happier ending.


This Book Tag is now passed to: (alright... who reads... hmm... who reads?)

Anyone who's chanced on this book tag and hasn't done it. I know the ones who read (kat, cl, fidzy, hx, jac, jills, kimmy, maggie), so there! You've been book tagged!

The Spanish Preview

I'm brown, I'm penniless and I'm home! Hot scorching Spanish days just fly by in the blink of an eye when you're not trying to avoid pick pockets or scheming gypsies (but as we learnt, we Chinese are a slipperier lot!), and while Lionel finishes with the 1200 plus photos we took, here's a little preview for you blood-thirsty blog-snappers, just to whet your appetite.

(Oh, I have to add that all these photos are courtesy of my humble Olympus mju 300, and not Lionel's mighty Nikon D70s. See, even little cameras can churn out pretty decent postcard shots!)


Our days in Barcelona drained us of our money more than any other Spanish city. Here's the famous Gaudi lizard at Park Guell. I'm glad Park Guell was free. 16 euros to visit Casa Batllio even with a 20% discount is a major rip off.

Seville on the otherhand really captures the feisty, hot-blooded Spanish spirit!

From the bull fighting rings:

The famous Maestranza bullring, which aficianodos proclaim is the most beautiful and was featured in Bizet's Carmen. I am still staunchly not a supporter after the horrifying discovery that up to 5 bulls are mercilessly tortured and killed each fight. At least the meat is fed to the poor.

To it's very red, tomato saturated food:

Enjoying a dinner of tapas at one of the many outdoor 'Bordega's or bars.

And yet Seville has that sense of serenity and spiritual one-ness, magnificently captured by the Moorish and Islamic architecture.

Like the fountains at the Alcazar

The Mercury fountain at the Alcazar. If you could only see the view we were facing! You'd have to wait for Lionel's photos though.

And the Giralda tower

The bells, bells, bells of the Giralda (isn't that a name that could inspire magic lamps and sultry arabian nights?)

And then there were the fantastical orange trees that just bloomed everywhere and gave the air that tangy scent:

In the courtyard of the Cathedral after climbing up the Giralda tower. The trees were littered with oranges, but much too far up to pluck... damn it! It isn't easy being an orange thief!


And for the Roman History enthusiasts (like Lionel), just outside Seville in the little village of Santiponce lies what was the third largest Roman city with its remarkable mosaics. However in a very Malaysian way, during the Middle Ages the ruins were used as a source of stones for buildings and much treasure hunting was carried out without any restraint and it was not until recent times that the value of Italica was realised. (The Duke of Wellington was one such criminal!).

Oh well, at least we got to see what was left of it (much to Lionel's joy!)


Overlooking the massive amphitheatre and the entrance to the amphitheatre below. You can just imagine the great gladiator fights were the precursor to bull fighting.


Then it was on to Granada, where all beauty and wonder seemed to just culminate in the Alhambra, the most sensual and romantic of all European monuments (or so some say, and having seen it for myself, I would never object!). Set against the dramatic backdrop of the Sierra Nevada mountains, this was the last stronghold of the Moorish Islamic empire, before the Reconquest. However it retains all the serenity and charm left by the Moors, with the most intricate yet harmonious architecture I have ever seen, or hoped to see in my life.

I mean, just look at that:


The lovely intricate carvings in the Court of Lions, one of the many magnificent courtyards in the Nazrid Palaces.

Honeycomb-like structures on the ceilings forming an 8-sided star.

Another view of the Court of the Lions, or Patios de los Leones where the centre font gives the court its name. This court famously inspired Washingon Irving to write his Tales of the Alhambra

Graceful stalagtite features, which are repeated all over the palace - a unique feature of the Alhambra

A notable feature of Islamic architecture is the use of water everywhere, to create a feeling of peaceful serenity, coolness and spaciousness.


Subtly rippling pools create the illusion of mirrored images and more space, while the calm noiseless water provides a spiritual atmosphere, like this one in the Partal


Fountains provide both aural and visual beauty, like the many fonts in the Generalife (pronounced He-ne-rah-li-fay)


And of course they provide several picture-perfect moments!

The view of the Albaicin and Sacromonte, the old Moorish quarters, is just amazing! Its practically an entire hill littered with tightly packed white-washed houses, and of course the cave homes that used to belong to the gypsies, and are still in use today!

We just had to get a photo:


And on our way out, I caught this photo of the entire Alhambra (excluding the Generalife where we were at)


You don't see that everyday! When I feel like uploading the rest I'll let you know.

Hola mi chicas y mi hombres!

Hola from Granada!

Finally came across free internet. The weather is sizzling! The food is *muaks*! The hombres... ah... are sadly gay (but awfully cute). Oh and every street and alley and sidewalk is a perfect picture postcard! We´ve already taken 700 plus photos!

Its hard to put Spain into words. You´ve just gotta be here, feeling the blazing sun on your back, taking in the grandeur of the Moorish buildings, soaking in the tapas and sangrias (but not the paellas, I kinda feel short changed eating what seems to be fried rice or rice soaked in soupy curry... we Asians know how to eat rice the right way, leave it to us!) and shopping, shopping, shopping! Until Lionel puts on that ´look´ and I know its time to stop.

I can´t go on too long, so here´s a short sample of what I´ve been up to:
Gaudi and seafood in Barcelona
Flamenco and tapas and Roman ruins and bull-fighting in Seville
and currently wandering around the old Moorish quarters of Granada.

I also have to add, if you have only one place you could choose to go to in Spain... it would definitely be Seville! They love students! We get huge discounts everywhere we go! It´s good to be holders of an ISIC card!

Alright then, I´ll be back soon with loads of photos. And I´ll book tag when I get back, Sherene! Adios! (And wait for those postcards!)

Fraudulant finishings!

I had to start and end the year with a trip to the police station, didn't I?

Big sigh...

It is a quite amusing though, that a black guy tried to pass off as me and cash a cheque in my name all the way in Cockfosters, Herefordshire with a local driving liscence as ID (which I of course don't own). It wasn't quite so amusing that he tried to take 3500 pounds out of my bank account.

That's the short story. You'll have to wait for the long story when I get back and you catch me in person.

Adios!

Who is I?

It's like blogger- diarrhoea today. But I've been reading through loads of blogs, and then I come back and look at my blog, and wonder what it's all about.
Wonder if this is me.
Wonder how I would know this is me.
Wonder if I would know me, if I bumped into myself on a crowded High Street Kent.

Reading your own blog should be like staring into a mirror, and you'd better believe that I am my biggest fan. But there are those startling moments when you wonder who wrote those entries in the archives, and then the whole vicious cycle starts again.
Wonder if this is me
Wonder how I would know this is me.
Wonder if I would know me, if I passed myself by at the ticket turnstile at the Gloucestor Road tube.

And then it glares at me right in my face, that I am only Charlotte sometimes. I can be talking to three different people from the same group of friends, and I'd be three different people. Multiple personality disorder has probably been manifested in me since the day I woke up and realised different people want me to be different persons, all at the same time. And I wonder how I keep sane.
Wonder if this is me
Wonder how I would know this is me.
Wonder if I would know me, if I came up and talked to me on a sunny June day in Hyde Park

No... I would never do that. I don't talk to strangers

Your attention is required!

Newsflash #1
Emperor's Gate has Bubur Cha Cha. More Bubur Cha Cha than we can possibly wish for in a lifetime. All who want their free cold, coconutty bowl, just cha cha your way down here. You know where to find us.

Newsflash #2
All apologies have been accepted. I don't send out much hate mail nor feel good about it, but I appreciate the personal call to apologise, and the offer to chip in with the reimbursement.
[edit: My bag has been found! We haven't seen it yet, but the Union is quite sure they have the bag we are talking about and will hand it over to us on Monday. All's well, back to peace and quiet]

Newsflash #3
Have you taken a look at the Star's new look, in conjunction with their 10th anniversary? I like...
A slightly more professional touch, although it still has a little bit of that 'blank' look.

Newsflash #4
As usual I will not be blogging from Spain much. Will only be able to upload photos when I get back. Miss me! Leave me lots of tagboard messages! (I know you girls will!)

All dressed in white

The Woman in White is really a very delightful, (slightly heartstrings-tugging) musical. Its everything I didn't expect, which leaves little to say because I really went to watch it without any expectations. It's no morbid ghost story - not even the slightest bit close to Woman in Black (and certainly not the sequel to it, which caused much hilarious laughter today). It's no typical Andrew Lloyd Webber, and that's something! The music is more epic musical than Lloyd Webber's crazy contemporary with liberal doses of chromatics and atonal scales. It's no truly happy ending love story (but that would have made it so passe wouldn't it?). In fact it's more of a 'New Woman' genre and most of it echoes of Charlotte Perkin-Gilman's 'The Yellow Wallpaper'... all the 'hysteria' and "I know best, I'm a doctor" and "don't confuse your pretty head with all these details". Ooh, and the good-guy male lead is yummilicious (see here!).

It was really just a lovely musical to sit back to and relax, if only I wasn't worrying about how to segment speech signals at the back of my mind.

And it was great meeting up with some MSoc people again. I just realised today how much I'm going to miss them over the summer. Don't even know if I'll make it for the Fresher's camp. And what happen to our plans for a road trip this summer? Things change so much over the course of one year. People and places and activities and friends.

Need to figure out how I'm going to earn enough money to pay off my rent for the summer. Anyone needs a henna tattoo job?

I know I worry too much. I've been trying to scare myself with the fact that fretting makes you age faster, but that's not working all too well now that I'm worrying myself to death about wrinkles and white hair.

So, on my list of latest worries, I'm worried that I haven't got the right stuff to wear for my Andalucian Dream Adventure. And why should I be fretting about this? Firstly, it's a burn-me-to-a-crisp 36 degrees in Seville. I have been mentally unloading my wardrobe (mentally, because the obsessive compulsive in me would like my clothes to stay in neat piles) and the only things made for all 36 degrees of heat is my hot pants, which Lionel said I can't wear as we shouldn't attempt to attract unwanted attraction. Secondly, I would like to look nice on a holiday for once. For the past few trips I've been bundled up in no less than 3 layers of woolies and cardies and what-nots. So for once (and especially with Lionel's new Nikon D70s) I would like to have pictures where I look like I'm really having a holiday and not trying to win ba zhang of the year award.
What's a ba zhang? This is a ba zhang.

Once the holidays are over, I'll have to start worrying about looking for a place for the next academic year. We're going house viewing tomorrow. Keeping my fingers crossed. Now that Yi Shan is moving out, we've become a household of 3. The 'tua chee' doesn't really count, I suppose. The highest priority seems to be to look for a place with a TV. One year of deprivation is too much torture to inflict on these guys.

Then I'm starting to worry about the next academic year and what's in store. This time last year I at least knew that I had an entire club to run and activities to see through. But next year, it's a whole new clean slate. I have nothing to expect. Nothing to occupy my mind!

Oh, I have told a falsehood. I have a melancholic script that has been writing itself in my head since I started revising for exams. Oh there, I lie again. I have had two different stories writing itself in my head. It's like a niggling dream, which I had to tell myself to snap out off for awhile. But now that exams are over, the entire stage play is forming itself in my head. Oh sure, only after M-nite and during exams do my creative juices really start to churn! Could I not have had this luck while I was writing the M-nite script? Anyhow, I think I will turn it into a short story over time. That should keep me relatively busy all summer.

I'm spouting too much rubbish. I should get back to unwritten Matlab programs, and deciphering phenomes. If I have one absolutely terrible failing, it's procrastinating too much!

Yi Shan has nicely set me the task of making tong sui. Ling zhi kang in particular. That's not going all too well since I have only a very vague idea of what is actually in ling zhi kang, until I call my mother tomorrow that is.

This is only task number one of many other cooling deserts I have been set to make for our household. Its not that we're really dying of heat (living underground and all) but this is the hottest weekend London has faced this year. We are seeing highs of 32 degrees, people! (You south east asians and southern asians - yes, I am pointing at India - let us have our moment of sweltering glory for a minute here). I just cannot begin to imagine the temperatures in Spain. I'm starting to think the only solution is to lose the extra clothing.

So here we have yams, sweet potatoes and sago ready to be made into bubur cha cha. I am chilling cincau in the fridge so we can have it together with the lychees which are also chilling out with them. (Oh, bad bad pun... will not happen again, I promise!) We have two tubs of Haagen Daaz sitting nicely in the freezer too. Unfortunately Ben & Jerry's are still not on sale, but their official website has a really cute explanation of how the ice cream is made.

I need a new pair of shoes. Not having anything with heels is killing me, because I am too short for my new skirts! Michelle was in London this week and finally persuaded me to get those skirts I've been eyeing, after I finally decided what length and colour I wanted which took all of 4 days. Thank heaven for friends like Michelle who've stuck by me since Standard 1 and 15 years later tells me to stop being a dingbat and just buy it if I like it! But now I have no one to talk me into buying shoes. Not even Amar who has finally returned to Warwick (you have gone back haven't you, and you aren't just lurking around?)

Busy, busy week next week. My Godmother has invited Lionel and me over for dinner on Tuesday. Then on Wednesday the good ol' MSoc bunch will be watching Woman in White with some of the Emperor's Gate household. Then on Friday, it's off to Barcelona (where I suspect we will bump into hoards of people we know) and then to Andalucia (where we will see nobody but gypsies and bullfighters... what a relief!). In the meantime I'll just work on segmenting speech signals. Don't bother about me.

Guns in the Hands of Babes

Its been a brilliant week, hasn't it?

On one hand we thought the government was finally getting it right when our Education Minister Datuk Seri Hishammuddin Tun Hussein made it known that the PSD will state the criteria for selecting scholars. Then Deputy Defence Minister Datuk Zainal Abidin Zin has to go and spoil it all by announcing that NS trainees may be taught to handle firearms as part of their training, namely M16s (oooh... I'm thinking Wei Kiat would love to have gone for NS, even though his obsession with guns and all other harmful weapons is scary enough as it is!).

Not only is this news extremely disturbing to me (and I just cannot imagine what my parents are going through seeing that my sister has 2 years to go before NS), it is even more disturbing to hear the words that are coming out of the mouths of senior government officials. Do they truly believe what they are saying?

To quote the Deputy Defence Minister in The Star (16 June 2005):

“It is more of an exercise in learning to take care of oneself. This is so that they are confident of handling a weapon.
Another reason was that after their NS training, the trainees were eligible to enter the armed forces and the firearms training would be helpful then,”

I am not alone in seeing the contradiction here, am I? You don't learn to be independant so that you are confident of handling a gun! Does he realise the atrocities that result from learning to handle firearms? Does he know that in the Singaporean NS, boys have died from mishandling firearms. It isn't just a matter of Malaysian NS trainees going amok and shooting one another and trainers (as if it wasn't bad enough with the brawls that occurred over small things like stolen handphones). Will we now have NS trainees getting their faces blown off due to a carelessly loaded M16 in the name of patriotism?

Sure, our Malaysian youth think its cool to be taught to handle guns. But just speak to our friends in that sunny island down south. It really isn't so cool when the gun is in your hand and a fatality could happen anytime, especially with the typical Malaysian lackadaisical attitude. Sure, I speak with no firsthand experience. But I know the fear of worrying till I'm sick about my closest friends in the army.

But then our Deputy Defence Minister again has to make other inane statements, and this one unsurprisingly appeared in the Singapore Straits Times (17 June 2005):

'People were comparing our national service programme with Singapore's,' Datuk Zainal Abidin said on Wednesday.
'If they can incorporate weapons training in their programme, I do not see why we cannot do the same. We train trainees in unarmed drill and combat and we give them disciplinary training.
'There is only one thing missing, and that is firearms training.'

He doesn't see why we cannot do the same? Because we are NOT the same! Singapore is training a reserve army. We are trying to instill patriotism in our kids. It's not that Singapore can incorporate weapons training. They need to! We on the otherhand do not need one more way to arm young hooligans who beat up other trainees and even their own instructors until the Defence Minister was ready to call the army in to sort them out.

I shouldn't have this feeling of giving up on my country more and more everyday, but when I read things like this, it is hard not to: (Straits Times, 17 June 2005)

'There is nothing wrong with it as it can help the security of the nation. Guns can be used for a peaceful purpose too,' Datuk Siva Subramaniam, secretary-general of the National Union of the Teaching Profession, told The Straits Times.

Not a single religion in our country would ever professed that guns can be used as weapons of peace. And they made you in charge of our teachers? Why??!!?? And also in the very same article:

Datuk Michael Yeo, chief executive of the Asian Strategy Leadership Institute, said weapons training should be provided in addition to military-type drills already in the national service scheme.

Oh yes, we needed to hear a representative from each major ethnic group in Malaysia make a stupid comment for the benefit of Singaporeans to laugh at us. Why are these people allowed to walk freely on the streets? They might as well remove gun laws in Malaysia.

And finally from the big guy himself (and we know he is a big guy since that talk that was held in Imperial College), our Defence Minister and Deputy Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak comes out to reassure parents with the words:

“We want to include the element of discipline among the trainees and strengthen their spirit. The trainees will feel much more motivated and disciplined when they learn to stand in line with their M16 rifles,”

And further comforted parents by adding that the NS concept would not be changed to one that was focused on military training as was done in Singapore. (Read more here)

Oh sure, we don't want to be like Singapore. But yet we can whine that if they can have weapons training why can't we? Oh, help! God, please help!

Has the Defence Ministry seen the photo slideshows they show the recruits in Singapore on how guns have exploded and disfigured trainees? Have they read how every once in awhile, a young soldier dies on account of a misguided bullet during training? And we haven't yet begun to talk about M16 wielding angst youth with emotional or mental problems. Do we need an unnecessary death to occur before the Defence Ministry stops waving around these ridiculous ideas? At least discuss the pros and cons of it before telling the public and causing a wave of fear among parents, not the other way around!

It's raining. So I can't go to the post office. It's not a torrential thunderstorm, the way I'd like it to be. But its heavy enough to make Greg's belated birthday card more belated than it already is.

Yes I forgot.
If it helps, I remembered right up till the day itself, and then in the fiasco that was a Control Systems exam, I forgot. I just plain forgot.
And I deserve it. For making a fuss about my own forgotten birthday.
Lets call it a truce. Ok?

Anyway, I've steered away from lampooning our local education/scholarship/entire government system, because this is just much more interesting. Come on, admit it! How many of you have visited SarongPartyGirl since the 'scandal' exploded on a 6 by 4 in the Singapore Straits Times (or the tiny Lion City column [which also means snigger at the perasan kiasus down south] in the Star)? And how many of you went there explicitly searching for this?

For an extremely narcissistic SPG (although, seriously... those tippex sharp tits are scary!), who speaks volumes of her experiences, she clearly isn't any dumb Ah Lian. And the brouhaha the media is throwing at her isn't worth it. Although I really find Kennysia's parody rib tickling!

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In other news... Michael Jackson has been acquitted of all charges as I predicted. In some foreign xenophobic island really far in the south, I hear a mentally deranged ex-classmate still screaming ectastically. You guys know who I'm talking about. That aside, I am glad MJ will not be doing time. His music is still magic to me, and to kill that magic in our usual blood-thirsty societal way is like chloroforming Tinklebell. Hey they're similar. They're both extremely white and extremely skeletal and extremely make believe. I'm contradicting myself aren't I? Tell me when to stop.

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I'm starting work by reading the introductory chapter to Digital Speech Signal Processing. I have to re-study Z transforms simultaneously. Its amazing how I managed to completely flush all I studied for my exams out of my brain, and this stuff I was mulling over just 2 weeks ago is just as foreign as... say... Ebonics.

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Oh, the sun is out again. Time to strut out to the post office in my Ralph Lauren sunglasses.

I love summer!

Who doesn't?

Sandwich Shop, anyone?

I am NOT returning to blogging just yet. I still have one last paper to go. But just for emotional entertainment sake. This photoblog and it's photoessays are an absolute catalyst for homesickness. No matter how much I gripe about Malaysia and 'Malaysian Ethics', I miss the vibrance that is our multicultural heritage. The colourful chaos of our ethnicity. The ancient and everlasting traditions pitted against the background of the modern skyscrapers (and THE sky scraper full of oil). There is really so much more 'life' back home.

Every Picture Tells A Story

It really does!

The 'victimisation' of Schappelle Corby has lead to quite a few of my aussie friends covering the case; some emotionally, others with better judgement. Aun Teeng's blog had this link which I thought was an interesting read into Australia's own 'unbabaric', 'untainted', extremely white judicial system.

When justice gets lost in translation

The west has just got to stop becoming judge, jury and law of the east...

Four more to go. Just four! And there are just so many things catching my attention that I want to do. The more blogs I read (particularly those lucky critters who are done with exams for the year), the more I want to -

1. Go Shopping!!! I have yet to find a shopping buddy in London. I can't shop alone because I end up reasoning with myself and buying nothing. I can't shop with people other, because I feel bad making them wait for me when I try on stuff. So far, I've only been able to shop with Charmaine and Sherene (because I know they'll be honest, and also extremely persuasive...), and my Mummy (because she's my greatest critic - she's had 22 years of practice).
2. Cook!!! I am dying to take over the helm of the kitchen again. It's not that your cooking is bad, Lu. In fact yesterday's Californian Rolls were great! But, I just wanna make something to clear out all these leftover things we have in the fridge and spice cupboard before we leave for summer.
3. Watch Hong Kong-ese serials. I miss watching my Cantonese soap dramas. Like Charme said, its a pity Venki's already left for the UK. If not he could have passed me a stash. Anyone else making a trip to the UK? Anyone wants to send me any belated birthday presents? No guessing what's at the top of my wanted list.
4. Berjalan-jalan. Then Lu will have company on his wandering trips. The weather's so beautiful right now. It's just cruel to keep me chained to my room and my notes.
5. Start on my Andalucian Dream Adventure this summer. One whole week in the south of Spain (and a little bit of Barcelona)! Eeps! It's unbearable to wait so long.
   

I won't be ranting and raving for the next week. There's a slaughter-house full of exams just over the horizon. So screwed. so screwed.

In a bold new move (one probably not thought through clearly) by the Information Ministry, they are encouraging cinemas to play the Negaraku before all films begin.

In the secretary-general, Datuk Seri Dr Arshad Hashim's words :

We need to acculturate the citizens to always stand at attention and sing along proudly. The respect and appreciation for the national anthem is waning and the blame is on us if the future generation can’t sing Negaraku

Well, by all means play it as much as you want during official functions and in schools. In fact I absolutely encourage it. But in cinemas? Lets not turn respect for our national anthem into a laughing stock!