Emperor's Gate - A photo montage

Being back at Emperor's Gate last week for Chongka's birthday was so nostalgic, I had to dig up the old photos. When Emperor's Gate was my own cosy little corner with the big kitchen!
It's like walking down memory lane...

I present to you, and it's current occupants:
Emperor's Gate - A photo montage tribute

[left photo of pillars, courtesy of Jac of the Flat 2, Emperor's Gate fame]

Moving in day. Marvin gets stuck in a household mop box. Also the day we eventually realised how my laptop got stolen!

Flat 1 used to house a strange collection of household pets which we became rather attached to, including the Bobs.

The soft toys in my room, including Dewy, Pingu and Yaya

Xiao ya

Bob I

Bob II - whom we grew so fond of, he joined us for dinner everyday and we could never bear to use it to garnish our Mee Siam

And the official 'Bring Maomao to London fund'. Flat 1 really did their best!


The kitchen was probably my favourite place in the flat. It was MY kingdom where I ruled supreme

And the kitchen really was quite spotless most of the time

And food was always in abundance! Oh alright, this one was an exception - for Chinese New Year 2005

The things I love best, lilies... and my kitchen! Oh and Lionel who's standing behind, of course!

The other rooms were just... okay...
Like the bathroom:
And the back rooms where Yi Shan built his Great Wall of China from a mountain of past year papers

I loved the cool dark corridors and the little hallway where Amar emptied half a bottle of champagne on me after MNite and had to mop everything up!

But second to the kitchen, I loved my room! With it's huge floor space and our inflatable sofa for watching TV on and my woven tatami mat for studying under fleece blankets on!

Lionel thought this would make a very funny family portrait of all the Emperor's Gate pets!

I just can't use a desk to study...
It's an organised mess!

But at the end of the day, Emperor's gate was about

the people...

The neighbours...

The occasional honorary house-member...


And the silly things we did...

It was home, for awhile...

Chinese New Year in a box!

The new year passed without a single pineapple tart... until today.

My mother for the first time heeded my pretenses of "haiyah, dun need to send new year goodies lah, so far, so expensive" and really didn't send anything this time! I only got the token angpow.

Lionel and family, however, took pity on me and decided to send me a box of their homemade pineapple tarts. And so I've been checking my pigeon hole everyday for the last week until I received this:
Of course on seeing the pierre cardin box, I realised I'd give up new year goodies for a new pair of shoes. But it was not to be.
This is aunty's typical way of packing stuff to minimise impact. Also because she says "tissue paper in London very expensive one! Singapore very cheap!"

And to my surprise, it wasn't just pineapple tarts (which thankfully haven't gone mouldy), but also cashew biscuits (my favourite!) and shrimp rolls (which I'm devouring now!).
Finally, some REAL festive cheer!

========================

In other news,

MSoc's CNY dinner was crap

The tiny ISE dinner (which I wasn't present for, but joined later for drinks) was fun and nice to have Hai back.

Shisha and chill out at Chrissy, Jun and Wui Seng's place was a nice way to end the day. No mahjong though. That's the only dissapointment.

Unmotivated

I knew this would happen. I CANNOT be left alone to do a research project. I hate FYP. I hate reading papers. I will NEVER do my PhD BECAUSE I hate reading papers. I can't manage my own academic time. I need short milestones and lots of goals.

My FYP is going up in smoke. My exam results had better be absolutely brilliant!

Ash Wednesday 2007

Today also marks the first day of Lent.

It's an incredibly trying period to be good.

Should I skip my 12pm lecture so I can make it to the Union Dining Hall early enough, since I have to be Eucharistic minister today?

It really is difficult to be good.

Recustomising

I did a stupid thing and forgot to save my old template.

In the meantime, I haven't got the time to redo the layout just as it used to be. I'm an idiot. Yes.

Later.

On the subject of Birthdays!

And you know I never fail to embaress Sugi every birthday!! LOL!

Happy 24th Birthday Sugs!!! The older you get, the better to marry you off!!!
Hope you had a great birthday with family, nieces and nephews, and with any luck the guys remembered and did not torment you too much on your special day. Hugs all the way from across the... erm... Atlantic? One day I *have* got to look up a world map.

Sorry for the late wishes... I only got back at 11pm after being tormented by the EE 3rd years (AGAIN!! why do I do this to myself???) at Chong Ka's birthday feast prepared by the folks at Emperor's Gate. I miss my old flat... a lot!

Alright, that's all I can muster today... I'm falling asleep already. Everyone's birthday is special... zzzZZZzzzZZzzzZZZZ

My response to "A Response to the gay adoption article" in this week's Felix

Re: Letters to the Editor, Felix #1373 and "Gay Adoption - Where's the Crime?", Felix #1372


The Felix is getting out of hand recently. Earlier this academic year, it allowed a writer to come forth and write most insensitively about Islam. All further editorial responses to the mass of letters to the editor were mostly defensive with liberal use of "freedom of opinion and speech" and further ridicule of the writers of the letters.

Last week in Felix #1372, an anonymous writer addressed the issue of the Catholic Church's stand on gay adoption. While it is fine to question the controversy, I believe it is not in any way alright for one to use this issue to belittle Christians and Muslims (as the article also added).

The real issue in the article, as Andy Sykes suggests, is "that adoption cases should be sonsidered on an individual basis, whether they come from hetero- or homosexual couples". However I am of the opinion that the editor failed to recognise that the writer was attacking the Christian community under the pretense of addressing the adoption issue.

Much of the article did not include the Church's true statements on the adoption issue, nor the government's stand (led by a Catholic nonetheless) but instead merely focused on the homophobic Christian/Catholic Church.

It IS a misconception that Christians are homophobic. What Christians condemn are polygamous sexual relationships, which happen to both hetero and homosexual couples. The main problem that Catholic adoption agencies have with placing a child in the care of same-sex couples is that, after much research, the Church has found same-sex relationships to be very unstable. Using the same argument, Catholic adoption agencies are unlikely to place children in the care of unstable hetero-sexual couples.

The reason for such stringent regulations is not deeply rooted in the Church's moral beliefs (as many would like to resent) but in the fact that children from Catholic adoption agencies are usually the most difficult cases to place (i.e. children with disabilities, etc.). Rather than risk putting a difficult child with an unstable couple, the agencies would rather safe guard against it.

There is nothing immoral to be viewed about this entire situation nor the Church's view on morality. However it amazes me what little it takes to provoke any form of resentment against the Church. If freedom of opinion and speech are so greatly prized, then freedom for Christians to believe should not be compromised either.

Gongxi Gongxi lu sama family!

In the spirit of Chinese New Year and muhibbah-ness, my mother sent me a CNY greeting in... Malay?

Anjing pegi, Babi mali
'sueh' pegi, 'ONG' mali
Untong untong manyak kali
Hali hali suka hati
Kena ekor kena loteli
Gongxi Gongxi lu sama family

And they say we don't integrate enough? I think, just like Manglish, there should be a special way to term the brand of Malay the Chinese speak and have come to call their own.

And for once my mother actually sent me an entertaining forwarded sms!

San Nin Fai Lok!

Before the doggie year goes out, and because I was born at the tail end of it and deserve to wag ecstatically, here's wishing everyone a Happy Chinese New Year.

Kong Hei Fatt Choy!!!

I will be buried under mountains of cooking from this afternoon onwards, and towing a bunch of freshers (the non-Chinese ones probably) to Chinatown for the massive celebrations (and I hope they'll escape alive).

And I will be refuting all claims by Sandip and David that I'm being racist by holding a reunion dinner in Linstead only for the Chinese. Just because I didn't invite them. It's not like Dave invites us to any Canadian celebrations!

Spice up your coffee!

Here's a tip... the next time you brew that next cup of coffee...
try adding:

whole cloves (just a pinch)
a cinnamon stick (just a stick)
and a star of anise (just a star)

for extra kick - add chilli powder!

Just the extra sizzle for a cold rainy night!
and for more hot drink recipes, click where it's pink!

It's times like this I think I'm going to miss London's cold winters.

And then I think how much I'm going to miss the theatre
The old cobbled roads
The quaint little shops
The Thames
And the lovely old buildings
And the cars whizzing by on those old old roads
Yeah I think I'm gonna miss London.

As well as making my own lunch like this:

Tiada masa lah...

Sebab malam ini aku akan dihibur oleh Evita. Janganlah menangis untuk aku...

On another note... I need to stop acting like a fresher and grow up. And that includes getting my work done on time and not yak away until 5 in the morning.

Meanwhile heard in room D5...

"You know I have two grandmothers? Eh, you also got two grandmothers???!!!"
"Erm, doesn't everybody?"

USA just wanna kay poh China's business only...

This made me laugh out loud (something I don't normally do to avoid disturbing the neighbours) this morning.

Mr Brown's response to the US's response to China shooting down their own satellite.

China Rocks

Click and listen lah!

Everyday I try to go out and grab lightning... but it always strikes me down...

Charlotte is still busy, with this:


At least she's done with the designing part, and hopes to see the pillars at the Sherfield walkway plastered with eyes when she walks past them today. The fruits of her labour had better be... well... fruitful.

The week ahead looks stormy, with her many many to-do lists set to rain upon her.

If she had more time, she'd wanna finish this:
but lately her head hits her pillow before she can even pick it up...

When she isn't busy drafting up her to-do lists, she's humming the following songs in her head, the ultra stylish I write Sins not Tragedies, and (forgive her for taking a liking to American Teeny Rock Wheatus-sound-alikes) Geeks get the Girls by American Hi-Fi





and if she finds her guts, she'll be singing this at the EE Revue next month:



(the Mandy Moore version lah, but the New Radical's video is cooler)

She still has no time to read the papers or browse news-blogs, but recently this made her happy:
Fun programme to teach students about integration
because she's mellowed and become optimistic and hopes this will not fail (and if all goes well should replace the ridiculous National Service tragedy that has befallen her country), oh and because she likes camping anyway.

And because she leads such a fast paced life and finds it difficult to leave time for simple things like sitting in the park, enjoying the sun and praying... she's had to download prayers-as-you-go to her iTunes to well, pray as she goes. Religion in the 21st century? Or just a reminder not to worship her laptop and feel like life is crashing down on her when her internet is taken away.
And now its back to starting her busy schedule for the week. Thank you for listening.

What's keeping me on my toes?

This apparently...


Eye-catching?

That's a lot of fresh air

I've shut the door, one too many times. Left the world outside and forgot to put up a post-it saying "remember you used to live".

Instead I hibernate in my room, asleep by 8pm, waking at dawn and contemplating an early morning swim.

Then, Kristina (you remember her, my gorgeous blond German roommate in the first year) invited me out for drinks to celebrate her birthday. And that led to a series of most fortunate events.

Firstly, it pulled me away from my Matlab codes and also led to the discovery of a rather charming bar/restaurant right behind South Kensington station.

The Collection boasts comfy turkish-looking wooden furniture and a reliable selection of exotic food. Popular with Chelsea yuppies and the fashion folk, its a nice place for catching up with long lost roommates and even a spot of clubbing on the weekend. If you're alright with the demographics averaging at 28 years. I'm torn between having to grow up and clinging to my university childhood.

The most amazing thing about this place has to be the restrooms where a very nice attendant told me how gorgeous I am (always a winning point) and the assortment of expensive perfumes at the washstand for touch-ups. How thoughtful! Oh and also the entrance, reminiscent of a fashion show runway which helps add to the model-glam of the place.

Meeting Kristina and her brother at Collection, led on to an invitation to join them for a gig at the Blagclub at Notting Hill Gate. Every Wednesday is Warm Wednesday, and features a live acoustic session in a cosy eastern-influenced room (with not enough chairs in my opinion - my poor poor feet in 3 inch heels).



The artist we had come to see was Stephanie Grace, a lovely delicate nymph with a voice that just melts you. Check out her myspace because nothing I say can do her any justice. My favourite song is ticket. I kinda wish I had bought her cd, but regretfully I didn't have more than 5 pounds in my wallet.

I don't remember much about the second artist of the night. Some girl called Danielle who was warbling like Christina Aguilera on coke. Sorry, I prefer poetic lyrics over warblers.


So I'm back to a music listening mood, and I hope no one caught me cooking in the kitchen with my Creative Nano plugged in and singing along to Chantal Kreviazuk while stirring my pot of hong bak. In the meantime, Lionel has me all jealous because he's bought himself an early birthday present - a Creative Xmod. The demo on cmss 3D x-fi is fantastic. Try the 3D headphone demo (with headphones on, of course!). Lionel has now turned his room into a surround-sound music room, just with a laptop, mp3s and two speakers.

And so it's almost the end of another week - with a hectic social schedule ahead. Lunch with B-landing girls, dinner with GS girls, dim sum lunch with Cheng Chun and Aeronautics folk, clubbing on Monday because I have to chaperone my little brother (no not really, but I like making it sound like it is - haha!). Busy, busy, busy.

Alright I'm out of here.

Ladies and Gentlemen, frost yourselves!

When I opened my eyes this morning, everything outside my window was in a hazy blue monochrome. My first thought was, who's gone and played around with the RGB levels, and then I realised...








Winter is finally here. Heap on the frost and wind and snow!

Try rockin' a scarf and hat look indoors

My heater hasn't been working since the start of term. Which was perfectly alright

until the weather decided to plummet into sub-zero temperatures for the first time this year. I can't find enough layers to put on without looking like a polar bear.

Frances, the nice housekeeper, was kind enough to send me a teeny little radiator to keep me company. I've never had one of these before (yea, I'm lucky, I've always had really good heating), and so I plugged it in and let the lovely warm air thaw my icy cold butt. I had a mild scare when it turned itself off after half an hour and I wasn't able to resuscitate it, but as I began to write this post it came back to life again. I am quite tempted to work on my bed now, which is nearer to the little radiator and other warmer things like duvets and pillows and fuzzy teddy bears and zzzzzZZZZZZZ...

The ASEAN scholarship - would you do it all over again?

Yes, I know my posts have been rather personal these past few weeks. So many exciting and bloggable things occurring in local and international news, and yet here I am wallowing in self pity and defining the word boring. I don't know, maybe the controversial stuff will come back after awhile... when I stop feeling guilty about blogging when I should be putting together my final year project.

Anyway, here's a piece that started out as a discussion in a facebook group (naturally called ASEAN scholars). I never actually meant to go on at length, but ended up writing a full piece, and embarrassing my brother at the same time. And here I shall do it again much to his chagrin. I know he reads this blog because he's not careful about hiding his IP address and I don't know all that many people from pmb.ox.ac.uk...

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

One common question that always arises when people find out that I've studied in Singapore (besides the "Eh, how ar? Everyone there very kiasu is it?") is whether I'd still choose to take up the ASEAN scholarship, given what I know now, and/or would I send my siblings/kids there.

Everyone has a preconception about studying in Singapore. It's generally centred around how stressful and exam oriented the system is and the academic pressure cooker/survival of the fittest environment that has been carefully engineered by the Lee family.

I can't deny that I went to Singapore clutching several urban legends close to my chest. "The top students will tear the pages out of library books so you won't be able to study", "Failure is not an option in Singapore, they make you do push ups if you fail", "Exams are a way of life, all you do is study".

It's easy to laugh about it now, because there were times I faced horrors far worse than failing exams - but coming back to my initial question. Yes, I would do it all over again. And I did send a sibling to Singapore, if he hates me for it - too bad for him. At least he survived it to get into Oxford.

I wasn't a brilliant student in JC. I was always bottom of the class, I had strings of 'O's for my first common test. I couldn't even speak any mandarin to save my life. But people tend to forget that successes don't always come in the form of academic accolades and olympiad medals. And once in awhile it's humbling to go from top of my little PJ school to bottom of Raffles Junior College. It's perfectly alright as long as I lived life in Singapore to the fullest, because the opportunities in school were limitless.

Back in my little PJ school, teachers were reluctant to answer questions outside the core text, curricular activities were restricted, and PE was... well, I don't know what it was because we never did anything but copied down notes about netball in our exercise books.

The day I stepped into JC was the day I realised some teachers do care about you. My Odac teacher never failed to lead us on camping trips and spur us on to do the impossible even if it meant he had to give up weekends and stay till late in the evening to help us bring down the climbing ropes from the rock wall. My Civics Tutor (or class teacher) never once gave up on me, knowing how little effort I was actually putting into my studies. She was barely 30 and yet had the experience to wield control and gain the adoration of a rowdy class of 18 year olds.

I realised that school facilities made a big impact on my student life. No matter what they say about RJC kids being rich and spoilt, the old RJC was tiny in comparison to many other JCs, old and greying, and yes, the toilets smelt of ammonia. But, coming fresh out of my dilapidated PJ school, RJ was grand! The library had real books and study tables. The track was a real track. There was proper PE equipment, a canteen that wasn't monopolised by one vendor and maybe we didn't have fully air conditioned classrooms or proper desks, but we had AVU equipment and teachers made full use of it!

Sure, it was a struggle to keep afloat in a top JC where everyone was seemingly brilliant. Real life isn't easy, and you have to keep swimming if you don't want to drown. Why should school be any different? But I never saw even a spectre of any Singaporean student who would step on me to get ahead (and even if there were the slightly kiasu ones, they weren't so different from my Malaysian classmates who'd refuse to tell me the name of their tuition teacher for fear of me getting better grades - familiar, yes?) My schoolmates were interesting people. Intelligence aside, they were interesting because they were truly passionate about things - whether it was their sports clubs, or council, or dance or computers. And they didn't do it because they were forced to. They did it because they enjoyed and excelled in it and were encouraged and supported.

Even hall life was fun, if you didn't mind the curfews. Staying together with other people in the same situation surprisingly yielded amazing results. Eating together, studying together, gossipping together, watching tv together, doing laundry together... these people who sat down at my dinner table everyday and complained loudly about the amount of salt the cooks had dumped onto our vegetables are my best friends, even after we parted ways at the end of our JC days.

Deep down, I'm patriotically Malaysian by nature and I still snigger at Singaporean news from time to time, however I can't deny that Singapore gave me a chance to see things from a different perspective, while Malaysia is continuously trying to pull wool over my eyes. Would I do it all over again? Any day, baby, any day!

Soup for one

blogging has been off, of late. anything i write sounds depressing. if it isn't about exams its about the end of them. if it isn't about how boring lectures are, its about how early or late in the day they are held. if it isn't about loneliness, it's about my pathetic grocery list and soup for one.

i have an awful lethargy hanging about me. i don't feel like progressing with my final year project. i don't feel like being the usual obsessive compulsive control freak I am towards any of my societies and responsibilities. i don't even feel like cooking.

i just feel like vegetating in front of my laptop, debating the politics of House (and any other series we happen to be hooked on) with Lionel.

interesting things we've been discussing this week would include
1. how xiaxue on girls out loud is unbearably ah-lian-ish
2. hugh laurie on saturday night life
3. tottenham hotspurs and their terrible run these past 5 weeks
4. and our incredibly low tolerance for Chinese people - and by that we mean abrasive,
rude, inconsiderate, etc. etc.

its really difficult to do things meant for two across thousands of miles. i won't pretend to know how far england and singapore really are, because my geography really is abysmal. i'll just wait till march gets here. it's not that far away is it?

I <3 Hugh Laurie

I take everything back, Sugi. House definitely brings sexy back. And as a bonus, he's acutely funny too!

Sunday talk

It was a lovely Sunday. The weather was great and the freshers even said so themselves. The rain had stop, the sun was shining on our faces, and everything would have been perfect if our groceries from Sainsbury's weren't so heavy. Just the usual Sunday with five Linsteadians dragging orange Sainsbury bags, comparing how much we'd spent and vowing to spend less next week which we knew at the back of our minds is futile.

Midway between Sainsbury's and Linstead, the freshers bumped into another couple of freshers walking towards Linstead. We exchanged the usual pleasantries.

"Went to Sainsbury's?"
"Yeah, you guys?"
"Just finished with church"
"Ah, Holy Trinity Brompton?"
"Yeah, where's your church?"
"Opposite the Natural History Museum. So you went with the Singaporeans?"
"Yeah"
"Are they all Methodists?"
"Oh no various types of Christians"
"I see, well HTB is a nice church"
"Hey they should come to our church"
"Oh, but we go to a Catholic church"
"Oh yeah, Catholics aren't Christians?"
"Excuse me? Catholics are Christians"
"No you're not, you believe in Mother Mary"

The smug look on the kid's face was enough for me, as if it was just usual Sunday banter to exclaim Catholics aren't Christians in the faces of three Catholics. I walked off.

When a non-Catholic says something so baseless, what should you do? I've come across this situation more than once, and no matter how many times you try to explain that yes we are indeed Christians, they politely nod but still give you a disbelieving look. Why? Why in the goodness of your heart and your, no, OUR forgiving religion is it so difficult for you to accept that we are at the crux of it all followers of Christ, and thus we are Christians? Why do unto your neighbour when you would not say "Oh he's not really British, his parents came from China and he still eats with chopsticks."

And ultimately, saying something like that really hurts. Why as a Christian would you be so hurtful to your own kind?

The difference between turning 21 and 24

Last night I said to Sugania:

"You won't believe what I made for dinner. A crispy salad topped with raisins."

And with that I officially resigned from the early twenties club, and joined other mid-twenties in their search for Sainsbury's 'be good to yourself' range, prettier footwear, french skincare and classier cocktails. When I reach my late twenties, I'll start shopping at Waitrose. Because then I will be able to afford it.

The path to reaching 24 has not been easy. Along the way I've had to face up to the reality that sneakers are not for every occasion and running a comb through my hair in the mornings makes a difference because there is an age limit to pulling off the grunge look, and I'm way past expiry. Learning to accessorise has been painful. One, because I've never (before now) spent more than 15 minutes trying to look beautiful. Two, because I'm too indecisive to buy accessories.

It's also taken three years of several beauticians trying to tell me that I have sensitive skin to finally believe it. It's so easy to look fresh-faced at 21. Now I look in the mirror and it's giving me anxiety attacks. I've never followed the 3 step face care ritual (cleanse-tone-mosturise) in my life! 5 months ago, I caved in and bought a toner. And other Laura Mercier skincare products. There go my birthday angpows.

I've dumped my all too precious deuter backpack for pretty handbags. My scrungies for straighteners. My lazing about schedules for three times a week at the gym.

I'm not growing old. I'm growing up. And that's just a teensy bit depressing.

Of cakes and turning 24

Cake count as of now is three.

That's three cakes in three days! So much for my resolution to lose weight this year (stop! before you tell me I'm thin enough, I didn't mean I want to become aneroxic, but fat genes run in my family and one day I might wake up as a size 12 and beyond)

The first cake came courtesy of my freshers here in Linstead Hall. Just as the clock struck midnight on Tuesday, and Lionel's call woke me up, there was a strange muffled commotion outside my door which I clearly recognised as too many Malaysian voices trying to whisper all at once. As I stood behind my door listening to the cacaphony of "Shhh"s outside, I was half tempted to open the door and surprise them instead. After 10 minutes, they knocked on my door, pushed a cake in my face and started singing Happy Birthday while I pulled an Oscar winning look of stunned surprise. Later on in my room, approximately 8 freshers were guzzling strawberry cream sponge cake from Pattiserie Valerie. Very yummy!

The second cake came from my godmother. Usually she bakes me gigantic cakes which take a month to finish (without Yi Shan around), but this year she brought me a chocolate cake from M&S. It was still gigantic and thus I made the freshers gather in the upper gallery for more cake and Haagen Daaz Pralines and Cream. The cake disappeared within minutes. It was very good cake!

The third cake appeared today during my usual prayer group meeting, thanks to Teresa! A lovely little lemon sponge cake. That's three different cakes in three days!

And I still have a dinner to go tomorrow with my EE and ISE friends. I fear the cake count may rise. Is this like the never-ending birthday celebration or what?

On this day in history

And I am getting quite prehistoric. Anything past teenhood tends to make one feel like a stegosaurus.

On this day in 1983, a very tiny baby was born in the sanitised wards of University Hospital. She didn't cry and the doctors feared for the worse. Little did they know she was just enjoying an afternoon nap in the warmth of the humid Malaysian afternoons she'll come to love and was writing poetry in her head.

On this day in 2004, I celebrated my birthday for 31 hours, on a plane back to London. When I arrived in Linstead, Lionel, who had offered "free porter services to ladies in pink", was no where to be found and I had to wake Maomao up to help me drag my bags to my room. Lionel made up for it by sharing his precious 5 grams of Swiss-French Berthaud cheese and the Les Miserables piano score I had been planning to buy for myself. Subsequently while celebrating, the fire alarm managed to set itself off 3 times in one night.

On this day in 2005, Tao brought a huge chocolate cake from Valerie Pattiserie to the JCR for me. And when I said I didn't eat chocolate, he gave a very excited "Oh REALLY?" and proceeded to give me a pair of 'silent slippers' which are really oversized fluffy booties while breaking his low-carb diet, just for me! Lionel in the meantime was close to surrendering after a violent fight with a bout of flu and thus only managed to go out to a nearby restaurant instead of the mussels at Belgo's which were promised earlier. But the spotlight of the day was on my shiny new Tiffany & Co. ring! Jealousy? Envy? Why yes, one of each please!

On this day in 2006, Lionel reserved a table at Nobu and splurged on the best degustation menu I've ever eaten. Not that I frequent 3 Michelin star restaurants on a regular basis of course. And all that after Lionel had convinced me that the furthest he was taking me to was Masala Zone in Earl's Court.

On this day in 2007, I'm sitting for an accounting exam in about 3 hours. And then spending the rest of the day trying to reverse the aging process the last few sleepless nights have been wrecking upon my body.

How anti-climatic.

Quarter Life Crisis and beyond

Overheard on msn today

me: Aiyah... I'm so old, baby
Lionel: hee
me: same age as uuuuuuuuuu!!!
Lionel: wah same age as me very old hor? mid twenties liaoz. haha. jialatz
me: yeah, reaching quarter life crisis. nvm, u'll get there first and tell me how's the view
Lionel: then must buy a Porsche
me: ??? Then mid-life crisis buy what?
Lionel: Jaguar


Isn't it nice when you have all the milestones in your life planned?

6 degrees of winter

I've just watched the morning sky change from velvet hues to a cloudy light grey (you know, #333333 in html) as the construction workers begin their morning ritual of assembling Southside hall. The building works don't look as if they'll end anytime during my stay here in Linstead, so I've already developed an immunity to the cranking of the drills and trucks and loud, brash workers.

It's supposed to be 6 degrees out there. I don't think so, it feels pretty warm in here. Maybe it's just me because my brother says he's shivering on the cold hard floor. Lionel on the other hand will probably say its still raining buckets in Singapore, so don't complain.

In other words. I'm back in London. And not so ready to begin another term of late nights, overdue assignments and procrastination.

Keep an eye on this blog. I have stories to tell.

Back to school

Spring term starts in T-4 days. I'm afraid my laptop is going to die before that. The sounds coming from the cooling fans are not reassuring. This is why you should trust IBM processors above AMD Athlons. Oh well, little Fujitsu, you have served me well for two years. Just live on for another 6 months more, won't you? I promise not to overload you with Matlab simulations. Even if that means staying in the EEE labs for longer hours.

In the meantime, these last 6 months are going to be one long hurdle. Somewhere within me my academic spirit is broken and I feel like I've been studying for a century. My little tasters of the world outside are making me impatient and I know I'll be counting down each and every day till I can take these shackles off and don that black gown.

It doesn't help that almost everyone near and dear to me is done with studying for good (almost!). 6 months. That's all I have to wait for. Although it's probably closer to wait for Easter holidays in 3 months time when Lionel comes to London again to have something to look forward to. Usually I want time to slow down, but now I've never wanted time to go by faster.

Happy New Year

Have a glorious 2007, everybody!

Do all the things you said you'd never do! Go to all the places you said you'd never go! Try everything at least once (except, you know, the kinda stuff that will get you convicted) and live it up in the year 2007!

Maybe I've forgotten the 'never's I said once upon a time... and this year, I'll embark on some of those 'never's I said I'd never do. Thanks for reminding me how much I've contradicted myself, but if it's for the better, I won't hold myself to my own promises and silly things I said as a teenager.

I turn 24 in a few days and quarter-life crisis is looming. Life is creeping up on me so fast.



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And as a side note, I had a great day today with Odac, which was somewhat of a surprise. I've missed you guys, even though I didn't think I did. I met Charme for a bit and that was loads of fun! Even if the boyfriends were feeling tired and grumpy! And after that, being guided around Clarke Quay (while remaining quite sober, thank you) was a lovely treat!

It's back to studying tomorrow. The holiday is over...

Merry Christmas

and a Happy New Year! The blog may go into hibernation until after the 1st week of January when exams end. Till then, write me letters and send me love songs!

I am home!

As it says on the lid

If you haven't got my number, email me. If you haven't got my email, msn me. If you're not on msn, facebook me. If you're not on any of those... how do I know you again?

Saying farewell to the winter freeze

I'm outta here!

In approximately 4 hours.

I can just about smell the hokkien mee!

The term ended on a good note with our Entrepreneurship presentation finally being put to rest. (The lecturers liked us, they REEEALLY liked us!). Deep down, I probably felt sorry for the mainland China team who were after us and presented a business plan that was not only incomprehensible, but incompetent... which resulted in several politically incorrect messages being typed on my laptop...

me: aku benci sgt org cina cakap bahasa inggeris!
iylia: but ur disowning ur heritage
me: eh, keluarga aku sudah 3 generasi di tanah melayu, okay....

...and several members of our team hiding under the table while trying to quell their desire to laugh out loud. We finally left for drinks at Harringtons where we sat in a corner and laughed at the poor China team.

I said a lot of my goodbyes last night at the Linstead Christmas party, where the nativity play really was a good laugh once I stopped being a prick about the immaculate conception not being Jesus (No, really! The immaculate conception is Mary!) and took up my part as... no, not a cow, sorry to dissapoint everyone... but as the angel Gabriel.

We ended the night with a round of horrible karaoke-ing, and I woke up this morning with a sore throat after belting out Uncle Kracker's Follow Me a few times last night.

Now for the important details. My plane will probably be touching down on Saturday evening, sometime after 7pm. And then I will proceed to spend the next few days eating everything in KL and working off the jetlag. Call me, you know my number.

I want it to be freaking 27 degrees!

Time check: 11.40am
Position check: Under duvet, drawn up to my neck, and a fleece blanket around my icey toes
Next move: What the hell? I am NOT moving!!!

When I turned in at 11pm last night, I resolved to get up at the break of dawn and start working on my interim report. That didn't happen when my brother, who had gone clubbing at Zoo Bar, knocked on my door and woke me up at some time between 4 and 5am. He's currently taking up a lot of the floor space in my room. It makes it difficult to get out of bed and navigate my way to the bathroom. Thus I think I will stay in my pyjamas, thank you.

I resolved again to get up at 9am for accounting lectures at 10. Have you ever tried teaching accounting management to an engineer? We great beings who can understand spectral estimation and empirical mode decomposition of non-stationary waves are completely clueless when you start talking to us about operating costs and insolvency, etc. etc. We think being able to debit and credit items are as good as it gets. Of course it goes without saying that we have incredibly natural management skills... because we're not so fussed about all those social science theories like opportunity costs and what nots. We've already taken it into account, differentiated it and plotted it's spectrum.

To make a long story short - I crawled back under my duvet and decided that the last lecture of Accounting for the term wasn't worth attending. I'll attend the tutorial tomorrow.

Then I thought I'll wake up around lunch time, and get cracking on that annoying interim report. No luck, it's freezing out there and I'm still under my duvet. I know I will eventually have to make it to my department by 1pm because of an entrepreneurship meeting that must go on by hook or by crook. Or Soha will DEAL with me...

Ok, it's about time to budge and face the 12 degrees of cold outside. Brrrrr...

As Christmas draws near

They say it's hard to be a Muslim these days. Sometimes I wonder that it's even harder to be a Christian.

Living in London, post London bombings and Heathrow bomb threats, everyone is very gingerly tip-toeing around any issue that might incite the wrath of the Muslims. Halal food, not shaking hands with the men, and headscarves are just a few, not to mention being careful not to represent the Prophet or God in any way.

However, what happened to Christian sensitivity? I know it sounds mad, but if truth be told, ignorance of Christianity is almost as wide spread as Islam.

This Thursday we're celebrating Christmas at Linstead by putting on a nativity play. I'm playing the part of one of the barn animals. One look at the script and I'm glad I have no lines. It's one thing to make things satirical and as far as everyone knows I am always sporting enough to laugh at myself and my beliefs. But it's difficult to know when to draw the line.

Should I feel bad about singing "While Shepherds smoke their pot by night?". Should I feel slightly insulted that Mary exclaims "Holy Shit" when told she is to give birth to the son of God? Should I be hopping mad that the moral of the nativity play is safe sex?

I don't actually know what I should be thinking or feeling. It has obviously irked me enough to write about it, but what exactly I am annoyed about I don't really know.

Perhaps it's just the idea that nothing is sacred anymore. That something so humbling as the joy in the birth of a baby can be misconstrued and spun into a tasteless story and the true joy of Christmas is no where to be found.

Genting is moving to Sentosa!

Lionel woke me up on Sunday morning with the very exciting news - Spurs had won 5-1.

Oh and Genting had won the Sentosa bid.

Part of me was waving the Malaysian flag and shouting "Malaysia Boleh! Genting Boleh!"

The other part was saying,"Siao boh? They're actually going ahead with the whale shark tank ar? If Michael Jackson come and dangle his baby outside his hotel window above the whale sharks, then how?"

Lionel was more upset that Nobu and Gordon Ramsay wouldn't be coming to Singapore as part of the Las Vegas 8th Wonder plan. The boy thinks with his stomach 30% of the time...

Anyway I just thought it was very suspicious that around the time the winning bid was to be announced, Najib had to come out and spew good things about Malaysian relations with Singapore. Did we just give our southern neighbours a part of the SJER so we could reap a few economic benefits from Sentosa? Such neighbourly love. Doesn't that make you feel all fuzzy inside?

Check out the video links on channel news asia. I wanna stay in the resorts on stilts. When Lionel earns enough money. I tried laying out my entire tai-tai plan before him but he will have none of it...

Home is so close

When was I last home?

In the blink of an eye, 3 and a quarter years have passed, and it feels like it's always been cold and rainy. Out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of a sunny land where it's always 27 degrees and when it rains, coconut trees sway. But it goes up in smoke before I can reach out for it.

I'll be home for Christmas. Just you wait and see.

Please have char kway teow, asam laksa and piping hot hokkien mee!

If I count 4 days down, it doesn't go by any faster.

Currently listening to...

Belief by Gavin DeGraw

Belief, makes things real.
Makes things feel, feel alright.
Belief, makes things true.
Things like you, you and I.

Tonight, you arrested my mind.
When you came to my defense.
With a knife in the shape of your mouth,
in the form of your body, with the wrath of a god.
Oh, you stood by me, Belief

Builds from scratch.
Doesn't have to relax, it doesn't need space.
Long live the queen and I'll be the king.
In the collar of grace.

Oh, tonight, you arrested my mind.
When you came to my defense.
With a knife in the shape of your mouth,
in the form of your body, with the wrath of a god.
Oh, you stood by me, belief.

I'm gonna yell it from the rooftops.
I'll wear a sign on my chest.
That's the least I can do, it's the least I can do.

Tonight, you arrested my mind.
When you came to my defense.
With a knife, in the shape of your mouth,
in the form of your body, with the wrath of a god.
Oh, you stood by me.
And I'll stand by my belief.

Weekend update...

I'm so busy, and yet I'm giving an update on why I'm so busy. You can skip this one if you were looking for a post with more substance. If you were looking for a blog with more substance, you are clearly in the wrong place. Check out the links on the right.

Amidst the end of term rush, I sacrificed all dignity I had to be a punching bag for the juniors in my accounting group (who are so proud of handing in our report 5 FULL MINUTES before the deadline). Perhaps if there had been less hijacking of my msn and less raunchy emails sent out involving cheesecake and meeting ON pool tables, we could have handed in our report 5 FULL HOURS ahead of the deadline. Oh well, if it was more fun to torture me, so be it.

Anyway, we ended off the week with the EESoc Christmas dinner - an evening of turkey, chocolate fountains and cheesy disco music. The highlight of the night must have been dimunitive Prof Cheung standing on two chairs to give his speech. That or the macarena. The night would have ended on a good note, if only I wasn't cornered at the cloakroom by a drunk Greek who harangued me with questions about whether I thought gays were normal. And because I wouldn't agree to his opinion that gays were infact abnormal... he proceeded to accuse me of being "westernised" and changing my way of thinking because I am now living in London... then I got accused of wanting to follow the great Western idea of secularism and that the Chinese have no concept of God's will that gays be segregated from society.

That pissed me off. Firstly because, I refuse to be associated with Chinese thinking. I am not from China. I'm Malaysian. I do not support secularism, in fact I grew up in a country with so many religions if you threw a stone you'd hit a mosque or a temple. Secondly, I am far from being westernised! I am as Asian as they come and believe in the rising of the Asian superpower that will kick America's ass. And lastly, if you hold such venomous hatred for gays - you are probably insecure about your own sexuality and hide it behind your pretentious hold on religion.
Moving on. Today was the OSC world cup. I witnessed a mini war brewing between Iraq and Iran and then Spain and Iran. Such hotbloodedness on the pitch.

Time to get going to Wei Kiat's birthday dinner anyway.

Incoherence... is that a word?

The Dress Code according to PAS

I was speaking to a Malay friend today who hasn't been keeping up with Malaysian news and hasn't been home in awhile. I told him and my Sri Lankan friends who were listening about the new RM500 fine for sexy dressing in Kelantan and how all Muslim women are required to cover up to their ankles and wear a tudung or headscarf to protect the chastity of women.

My Sri Lankan friends exclaimed "What? How can they? What about the men? Shouldn't they have a dress code too? Why are men never to blame?"

My Malay friend said, "What's wrong with that? It's according to Islam"

...
...
...

I'm reevaluating my choice of wearing a baju kebaya to the Christmas Ball this Friday. You see, even though it isn't really my actual traditional attire (ethnically speaking) and actually belongs to the Muslim majority in my country, it's body hugging, butt emphasising, bustiere like design is likely to erode any morals I am likely to possess as a woman. To ensure that my morality is kept intact, like money in a wallet, I should wear a burlap sack according to PAS.

Invisible kayaks

The odacian in me says: So cool!!!! I wanna try it!!! Imagine kayaking and being able to admire all the blue under you? Can batch xvii invest in one?

The charlotte in me says: Capsize drills *shiver*

The nerd in me says: Hoi! We're two days behind in getting that Database coursework finished! Stop blog-crastinating!


Click on pic for more info.

Typhoon Durian has struck the Philippines

Pray for them.

BBC - Hopes fade after Philippine storm
The Star - Grim search as typhoon kills hundreds in Philippines
Channel News Asia - Rescuers reach Philippine mudslide disaster

SPM Sejarah and I have some issues to settle Part II

As mentioned before, SPM Sejarah and I are old foes.

Anyway, I found the new syllabus here:
http://www.geocities.com/rozmansmkbm/
Click on 'silibus' and if you can't see the links on firfox, try IE

I haven't got the time to translate it right now. Will get to it at some point.

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

I found some spare time (i.e. I'm procrastinating other things for the sake of SPM Sejarah). Everything here is very crudely translated. I have never tried translating History before!

Form 4
Chapter 1: The emergence of early civilisations
i) Definition of civilisation
ii) Characteristics of civilisations
iii) The process of the formation of civilisations

Chapter 2: The rise of civilisations
i) Aspects defining the rise of civilisations
ii) Contributions from civilisations
iii) The emergence of religion and teachings of the old world (Hinduism/Buddhism/Christianity/Islam/Confucianism/Taoism)

Chapter 3: Early civilisations in South East Asia
i) Forms of early governments (Agrarian and Maritime societies)
ii) The influence of Hinduism and Buddhism on early governments (Ruling systems/monarchy/temples/Sanskrit)
iii) Summary

Chapter 4: The beginnings of Islamic civilisation and its developments in Mecca
i) Early Jahiliyyah Arabic societies
ii) The life of Prophet Muhammad before being appointed as a messenger (rasul) of God
iii) Prophet Muhammad as a messenger of God
iv) The spreading of Islam to Mecca
v) The reaction of Arabic society

Chapter 5: The Islamic Government in Medina
i) First and Second treaty of Aqaba
ii) The Hijrah (Migration)
iii) The Constitution of Medina
iv) The spreading of Islam
v) The Treaty of Hudaibiyah

Chapter 6: The Formation of Islamic Governments and their contributions
i) The Khulafa Al-Rasyidin Government
ii) The Bani Umaiyyah Government
iii) The Bani Abbasiyah Government
iv) The Uthmaniyah Turkish Government
v) The meeting of Islamic civilisations with other civilisations

Chapter 7: Islam in South East Asia
i) The arrival of Islam in South East Asia
ii) The spreading of Islam in South East Asia
iii) The influence of Islam in South East Asia

Chapter 8: Changes and influence of Islam in Malaysia before the arrival of Western influence
i) The effects of Islam on politics
ii) The effects of Islam on social culture
iii) The effects of Islam on the economy

Chapter 9: Developments in Europe
i) Social and cultural changes in Europe
ii) Travels and explorations
iii) The agricultural and industrial revolutions
iv) Western imperialism in Asia

Chapter 10: The British policy and it's effects on its national economy
i) Traditional economy
ii) Trade
iii) The British policy on agriculture
iv) Effects on its economy

Form 5
Chapter 1: The beginnings and devlopment of nationalism in South East Asia
i) Western Imperialism in South East Asia
- Western Imperialists
- Factors of Imperialism
ii) Changes in political systems
- The introduction of Western bureaucracy
iii) Nationalism in South East Asia
- Factors concerning the rise of Nationalism
- Developments in Nationalism

Chapter 2: Nationalism in Malaysia pre and post WWII
i) The trials and tribulations (hehe... being poetic) of local leaders in opposing the British
- Reasons for opposition
- Opposition events of local leaders
ii) The Nationalist movement up till WWII
- Factors catalysing nationalism
- Islamic movement raises the thinking of the races
- Newspapers, Journals and Novels as instruments of awareness of nationality
- The nationalist fight by Malay organisations
- The Nationalist movement during the Japanese occupation

ps - I just refuse to translate the rest, because it is becoming rather depressing. Unless someone does it for me. *hints* I am also appalled at my translation skills... bleargh!

pps - Thanks for the help guys! I will eventually link some of this stuff up with wikipedia when my next bout of procrastination comes around again

Redecorating

By a flash of inspiration I decided that something needed to be done about the blank white walls in my room. So I did this:

Many Linsteadians from 03/04 will remember that Pink Floyd poster from the room I shared with Kristina in the first year. Phil Dolan will also remember that I said:
"Pink Floyd? Whatever made you think I was a fan? What a random question"
Only to have him explain that my poster (which I thought was a genius work of art) was an album cover.

Andrew (who flew over to London for Thanksgiving break) and Christina visited my room over the weekend. Andrew took a look around my room and said
"You like butts, don't you?"
Dammit, I forgot about that postcard sitting on my desk.

My cupboard on the other hand looks very plain now. It needs a bit of work.


But if you look very carefully, you'll see many dirty and probably stinky people on top of mountains, in canoes and dressed hideously in red. These photos are definitely worth more than a plain cupboard. I'll do something about it. Soon.

Feeling morbid

Outside my window
Hang telephone wires
My neighbour's dog
Is on fire
It barks
At everything and anything and bugs and birds and little children

Until one day
It lay
Tied up in a sack
By the littlest
Of the children
While birds watched
From the telephone wires
And bugs danced outside my window

SPM Sejarah and I have some issues to settle

Just 2 months ago, my mother gave my brother and I the excruciating task of coaching my little sister for her exams. Science and math are pretty much subjects we're able to coach her in with one eye closed. Give us history and we balk at the sound of it.

Clearly History and I were never the best of friends.

Anyway, I decided to tackle it since it's only Form 4 history. Sejarah Dunia. I never liked mugging dates, but world history was my favourite part of it, due in part to my love for art museums and other boring hobbies like spending 7 hours exploring mummies in the British musuem.

However I reeled in horror when my sister showed me her textbook. What used to be 4 or 5 glorious chapters on everything from the Reformation up till Imperialism and the brink of World War I, had been squashed into 1 chapter. And in place of all that was several chapters on Islamic history. Huh?!!

Now I don't abhore Islamic history. I'm pretty proud of the fact that I know the Ottoman empire was not a revolution of footstools. When I was travelling in Andalucia, I bored Lionel with more facts than he wanted to know about the great Islamic empire before those Catholic brutes came in and wiped them out. I know the life of Prophet Mohammed and I can name early Islamic Mathematicians and Astronomers and I know they invented the concept of zero (the nothing that is).

However, my impressive (pea-sized) Islamic knowledge aside, what is the point of this as we begin to prepare the next generation to face an ever-shrinking global world? My sister knows close to nothing about world history. She doesn't know the effects of the Renaissance, she thinks the industrial revolution is solely defined by the car and paper making industry, she doesn't know about the cold war nor about Napoleon. And it doesn't help that she doesn't read any books that aren't teen-lit!

After ranting for awhile about my sister's blinkered education to my mother who wasn't listening (and has frankly given up on Malaysian education after three children who bluffed their way through the system), I started wondering why no one has complained about the new history syllabus.

A quick check on the internet turned up... nothing! I can't find the new syllabus anyway. I mean, I didn't spend like half a day searching, but you'd think that it shouldn't be too hard to find. The MOE website returns nothing. In fact clicking on a link to Secondary School Education gives you a blank page. Clicking on Examinations tells you nothing either. I think I'm doing it all wrong. Search engines don't like me.

Anyway, if you find out, let me know.

I know I could just ask my sister, but she currently thinks I'm a trouble making nerd.

Time magazine's 60 years of Asian Heroes

... yet not one of them is Malaysian. Maybe I'm just short sighted and missed out one?

Di mana dia, wira Malaysia?

Colin Hay - Beautiful World

When people ask me what kind of music I like, I get pretty stumped. I don't think there's a genre for my type of music. But I like music just like this...

Drive to the ocean, stare up at the stars...

Civil Servants, how lowly art thou?

My daddy is a civil servant.

As a primary school kid, that was perplexing and I found it embarrassing to write the word "servant" on rough, yellow forms required by the school for mysterious reasons quite incomprehensible to a seven year old. Would they black-list me because my daddy wasn't a "doktor" or "pengurus" and couldn't afford to donate hundreds of ringgit to fund the new staffroom wing? Other kids would point grubby fingers at the papers on my desk, "Kakitangan kerajaan? Apa tu? Sapu lantai ke?". It was only when I was twelve did my dad spot the mistake, cross it out and write "pegawai kerajaan". My twelve year old self did not think a "pegawai" was any better than a "kerani" and was clearly not impressed.

Not until I was in turqoise coloured pinafores, feeling quite proud of reaching teenhood and a 'big girl' in secondary school did I realise the effect I had on teachers when I mentioned that my dad was a civil servant. Teachers, civil servants in their own right, recognised how rare it was to find a non-Malay in the service. Better yet, one who had decided to send a child through the national school system instead of straight into the strict Chinese education system. Maybe it was faith in the national system. Maybe it was ignorance. Nevertheless I was happy to go on at length telling everyone my daddy worked for the government and was an integral part of the development of our great nation. A day in my daddy's life was akin to moving mountains and parting rivers, and the ministry of trade and industry was the heart of the Malaysian Plan. My daddy was making history.

The fact that by working for the government, my daddy would never be able to afford to send me or my siblings to university, never crossed my mind. The innocence of youth is precious.

It didn't take long to shatter that illusion, of course, when JPA turned away my scholarship application and my parents had to send me to Singapore where I could study for free on other tax payer's money. So what if my daddy had spent all his life growing industries from dust for Malaysia? Let Singapore fund his kid's education.

The glamour of my daddy's heroic job is fading. The respect for civil servants which existed in my grandfather's time has been eroded by corruption and monopolisation by a single race. When once only the brightest minds could seek out a government position, now it is only a dumping ground for unemployable graduates as the Badawi administration pledges to absorb them into the system. And my dad's face grows weary from the disheartening interviews with graduates who cannot speak a word of English. "How to work for MITI? How to bring investors into Malaysia like that?"

Today our Prime Minister has called on civil servants to be more efficient to fulfil the NEP. And this is a cry we all know too well, the semi-annual plea to the government sector to buck up and stop making us look bad. But how do they do that when you've stripped all their dignity away from them. How do you keep the pride in my daddy's eyes when you deny him his promotions and push his juniors forward? I needn't even mention what race they belong to. At the same time how dare you beg my daddy not to retire after all that he's been through because you suddenly realise he's the last of the good men. He's the last one who fought the good fight. And what have you given him in return?

Once, a long time ago, I wanted to be just like my daddy and serve my country. But like unrequited love, it is only a matter of time before you give up on someone who is constantly pushing you away.

I took a walk...

It's dark out. Not the 5pm winter twilight kind of dark.

Proper dark.

My muscles are aching crazily after an overenthusiastic weekend at the gym. Hobbling past the library, out Falmouth gate in the cool evening breeze towards Sainsbury's. Nostalgia hit pretty quick.

A weird kind of nostalgia. Bits of 2003, 2004 and 2005 all rolled into one. As if forming a dizzy patchwork design of memories.

The aching pain after M-Nite dance practices in the first year. And I saw myself, gingerly making my way back through the darkness of Princes Gardens, back to Linstead. Looking out for the light on one of the sixth floor windows. Maybe Lionel will still be awake to hear me grouse and grumble. Maybe he'd be writing Spanish essays and I shouldn't bother him.

The lights bring about a strange glow to Gloucester road as the remaining drops of rain glisten like watching eyes in the dark. And I see myself, running home to Emperor's Gate after long hours of M-Nite rehearsals. Running home to the welcoming warmth of its kitchen. Maybe Yi Shan and Lu would be teasing each other like little kids. Maybe Lionel will be waiting with an episode of The Amazing Race to watch on the sofa under fleece blankets and I'll fall asleep before the hands on the clock touch midnight.

The cars racing down Cromwell Road towards Earl's Court make me want to follow them. Back to the strange rustic mess that is Earl's Court road. And I see myself, Sainsbury's groceries in hand, a bunch of experimental recipes in my head, and my keys are nowhere to be found as I buzz the doorbell to the apartment and Lu answers with reluctance. Maybe there'd be CSI on the telly. Maybe Lionel will be up in the attic blasting sappy James Blunt music. Maybe there'd be a welcoming, cosy duvet to snuggle under and a plump and well-fed boyfriend to cuddle.

And then I find myself walking the other way down Cromwell Road. Back towards Linstead. It still feels strange and unfamiliar to be on the other side of college. But would I rather be walking the other way?

I've been blogging a lot these days, you say? Yeah, naturally when I've been so used to constant company (i.e. taking for granted my being able to bug Lionel at any given moment, even when he's sleeping), when I'm in my room in halls and there's no one to talk to... I just have to talk to myself.

Non-halal turkeys for Christmas this year? Lucky chickens...

I was reading Jeff Ooi's post and the Bernama article on non-halal turkeys being imported for Christmas this year, while sipping my morning cappucino (chilled, mind you) and giggling to myself.

While I think it's wonderful that Jakim is being very considerate to allow the import of more turkey for Christmas and New Year (macam inilah masyarakat muhibbah!), my mother never buys turkey but orders a very fat chicken from the local wet market (cheaper, ok?) and serves it roasted - stuffings, chestnuts, cranberry sauce et al. I don't know whether the chicken is halal or not lah, but it's juicier than dry turkey!

There's one chicken who didn't get a lucky Christmas break.

It's never too early to start a Christmas wish list...

And yes, I've gotten over wanting Lychee scented ironing water, in case you were wondering.

It's come to that time of year again when I ponder laboriously over the perfect gift for my loved ones. (Xiaokai, that does not include you in case you were wondering)

So I go about my usual routine - walk up and down Oxford St/Regent St/Covent Garden/Sainsbury aisles... in the hope of finding something that will make the receiver gasp in awe at my wonderful gift selecting skills. Something tells me that isn't what 'giving from the heart' is about. *shrugs*

Now the problem with the perfect present is that is always costs way above what I can afford. And that's when I go snooping about eBay in the hopes of spotting a good bargain. But then my Scrooge-like attitude catches me off guard and I resign to the fact that I do not have the heart to give anyone a second hand present. With the exception of some presents I've received over the years which go into a recycling box and are picked up again and rewrapped when in desperate need of a last minute present. Don't look at me that way. You do it too!

Is there any point to me telling you this? Is there some anecdote from my daily life that I am going to share with you regarding Christmas presents? Nope, none at all.

Except that the Christmas displays on almost all the London high street shops too freaky and distorted for the Christmas spirit. What do mannequins that are dolled up like Marilyn Manson and his equally freaky gothic, burlesque queen wife Dita von Teese, have to do with that warm, fuzzy Yuletide feeling?

The days are long and the nights are lonely...

First off - Happy 21st Birthday Vidu!!!
The poor girl's celebration of adulthood is being completely overshadowed by her sister's wedding, nevertheless we're still gonna celebrate it next week. Now that I've written it on my blog, I'm obliged to attend without any excuses... and I am good at making up excuses as my ISE classmates will attest to.

My weekly organiser looks like a warzone. I have too many things... TOO MANY THINGS! I had to repeat that with emphasis, because I clearly haven't realised it myself.

I have nothing to blog about now. Except that I swam 30 laps and did about an hour at the gym over the weekend. Aren't you proud of me? My mum is, so you should be too!

I'm taking the Linstead freshers (approximately 60 of them) to Chinatown for dinner on Sunday. It's time these gwailos were exposed to authentic (well, almost authentic) Chinese food. There will be NO sweet and sour chicken, no matter how much they plead and beg. And there will be kung po "paddy chicken". I didn't bother translating it properly.

Ok, time to head off for an EESoc meeting. Then to sort out some accounts stuff. Then hopefully I can fit in an hour at the gym before dinner. I hope to get addicted to the gym and swimming before Christmas. Sherene is gonna be my inspiration for getting rid of a summer's worth of flabby fats!

On the NEP...

I wish I could speak as frankly as Wan Aimran does, but I'm scared to because I'm not the right race

and the money keeps rolling in (and out)

Like Nero fiddling while Rome burned... wake up, Malaysia!

Look at what they are saying about us in Australia!

And don't be too quick to lash back.


I personally am going to use the last line ad infinitum ad nauseum...
"That's not Malaysia "boleh", that's Malaysia "bodoh" (stupid)."

Studying is a burden

but I only have one year left to enjoy it (psst, does that not frighten you? yes, a little...)

8 months, to be exact, to see how far I can push my brain, my weakening eyesight and my caffeine limits.

I have not learnt how to study in the last 15 years of my life. I don't think I'll ever start.

I have only learnt how to be kiasu and overachieving. That's so Asian. It's not much to be proud of.

Maybe one day I'll miss studying enough and return to academia to earn my PhD.

Oh what a joke! The only reason I want a PhD is so I can say I've made it one step further. So I can say I'm better than you. Screw it. I'll just go into politics, like I said I would.

The ultimate procrastinator

Although it's almost pointless to compete with Xiaokai for the title of 'Best procrastinator in the Universe', I am still somewhere at the top of the league. (Xiaokai thinks just being the best procrastinator in my course lacks ambition, but not that I ever really care what Xiaokai thinks).

So, there's an accounting exam on Wednesday. I've just spent the whole day doing close to nothing in college and then proceeded to spend the two hours before dinner skimming through old photos. Then after dinner, by a spur of inspiration I picked up my accounting text book and a calculator, dumped it on my bed... and proceeded to blog surf, followed by facebook stalking, followed by several spam emails to my accounting project group (I cannot believe they made me group leader just so they can extort cheesecake from me!) followed by a bath to refresh my mind and get me into a studying mood, followed by "ooh! new podcast on Mr. Brown", followed by Ebay surfing...

and all of a sudden it's nearly midnight. And somewhere across the atlantic, Lionel is shaking his head because he knows I need to be checked on almost every 20 minutes just to be sure I'm not doing something that's a waste of time. Like blogging.

Oops!

The red cups are back!

Chugging Starbucks gingerbread latte
Listening to Savage Garden's Santa Monica
I'm a sucker for old times
Advanced databases - thou shall be my Everest today...

Saving money

My brother has decided to leave Oxford for another weekend and spend it in London. This is why I tell people to study in London and not be smitten by Oxbridge. Follow the lights, baby. London is where the life is!

I'm supposed to meet him in awhile. It's the second time in 2 weeks that he's asked to meet me for a meal, not because he misses his sister terribly. It's all part of his expert budgeting. Making me pay for his meals. It's quite easy to tell when he's looking for sisterly love and when he wants a meal ticket. The meal tickets usually start of with "Chae-chae...", otherwise it's no point addressing me by my older sister title, unless of course there's a need to sort out Matlab coding.

I on the other hand have been rather terrible at saving money this term, no thanks to graduation and the number of meals out with friends I've missed greatly. When you think you're not going to see someone for a good number of months or ever again, what's 20 or 30 pounds? Yeah, it's about 150 ringgit... thanks for doing the math. Still, when you're feeling melancholic you'll spend money on a good bottle of wine, Italian food, platters of grand thali's, Nobu even! Although, sitting on the benches outside the Science Museum with Ayish, Tao and Chien Liq for a good hour or so, in the middle of the night, (not to mention in the COLD!) was probably the fun-nest thing I've done for free!

My brother's calling. He's hungry. I'd better go.

Must speak Engrish liddat!

The very talented Tyler Creasma who's spent 7 years perfecting his Singlish. Hoh boh?

Thoughts on a number 10 bus

(or random sightings of Oxford Street being decked up for Christmas when you're stuck in a traffic jam)

"It's almost Christmas, but I can't recognise Christmas in the concept behind Selfridges' androgynous mannequins. Avant garde window displays are in. Baby Jesus is out.

"An old woman poses beside Marks & Spark's 'mix and match 3-for-2' posters. Why does she want a photo with bright pink baubles screaming '3-for-2'? "But then again she looks like she just arrived from Andorra. The don't have pink baubles over there, do they?

"It's starting to look festive along Oxford Street, even if it's a warm 16 degrees outside. [n.b. this was written about 2 weeks ago, before the temperature nose-dived off the scale!]. You can't ignore global warming effects now - at the height of its glory.

"A blind man is playing his violin outside Debenhams. I feel for him. I can't even play a violing with both eyes open. IS it all about musical feel? I don't know. I study music but I don't feel it.

"I like the penguins at John-Lewis. I obviously lead a superficial hydro-plastic life. Two in one? Lasts for longer? As good as the real thing? I'll take it. And as if to endorse it, I find myself staring at a crackling fire place... on a plasma screen TV. Nothing's real except virtual reality. You've gotta love technology. I should know. I study at the heart of technological innovation where our mission statement is to cure cancer and make everyone else fat and lazy. It's all about automated voice control and self dusting vacuum cleaners. Here's a toast to science.

"Ponchos are not in season anymore. I have three. Dammit.




And then I decided to jump off the bus, forget about heading to Tottenham Court Road, and meander down Wardour Road until I hit Leicester Square where Lionel was waiting with a mini panettone and gelato! What self-absorbed thoughts I think of when I'm alone...

Code Pink

Maybe it's rather lazy and convenient for me to sit behind a computer screen and idly click on links to show my form of protest against war. But it's better than not doing anything at all I suppose.
And just as an added note of interest. I have to admit that I don't usually listen to what goes on in church on Sundays. I have a short attention span, but I'm working on it. However yesterday, I woke up from a stupor in time to hear Father Geoff say "and if we're happy about the fact that Saddam has been sentenced the death penalty, maybe we need to re-examine ourselves". His homily for the day was about 'loving thy neighbour' (I *was* paying attention at the beginning). But who is thy neighbour, if not everyone else? Even Saddam Hussein.

Thanks for not blowing up the Parliament

If it wasn't for some nutter called Guy Fawkes whom in 1605 inspired the Gunpowder Plot to blast the Parliament into smithereens, we wouldn't be able to construct gigantic bonfires and fill the air with fireworks.

As I pushed my way through the crowd at Battersea Park, closer and closer to the flames which were consuming an effigy of Guy Fawkes himself (poor guy, I really hope he isn't burning in hell because it sure is hot enough in that fire), and once I got close enough to feel the heat on my face I refused to budge. Not when it's about 8 degrees anywhere beyond a 3 metre radius of the fire.

It didn't take long to focus my attention skywards, as did all the under 10's standing around me.

Nothing is more fun than standing in the crisp cold air, as a bonfire burns beside you and the smell of hotdogs is wafting through the crowd, and watching a haphazard display of fireworks bursting in the air.



The best part of the night had to be sipping mulled wine as I walked back to the bus stop and warming my hands while the alcohol muddled my brain. I bet Alex and Charlie, whom I met at the bus stop, wished they had mulled wine. Especially Charlie who just wanted to get home and get drunk.

Happy Guy Fawkes Day! The 5th of November is easily remembered

Talking Cock in Parliament - Hossan Leong

Abit late on posting this one - Lionel introduced me to Hossan Leong when I was in Singapore and he's absolutely endearing! I don't care which side of the fence you're on... but this is funny!

Oh, what a circus!

I called my mum yesterday after disappearing into the abyss for nearly 3 weeks. My mum's pretty good at yanking me out of the abyss though. She sends me guilt-ridden smses.

"Your dad's not feeling well" - Yes mum, but a cold is a cold - "... and we musn't take things for granted because he's still in remission"

or "Your little sister misses her kor-kor and chae-chae" - Yes mum, but when I call she's too busy watching The Next Top American Model.

"Your grandfather just left KL and went back home, leaving your grandmother behind" - Now, that's new! AND interesting to boot.

My grandparents have fought each other with such venomous rage for approximately 50 years. That's a good waste of a lifetime. My grandpa's an awfully nice old man, even if he asks me the same question three times. I put it down to him being hard of hearing these days. However, nice as he is, he was a strict civil servant and ran his home like the Penang court of justice - and that included my grandmother.

I have nothing nice to say about my grandma, which may appear to be positively shocking to most. But you spend most of your childhood having to pick out 4D numbers and being scolded for ludicrous reasons, most of them related to just being a child, and you'd have nothing nice to say either. My grandma never doted on her grandchildren. In fact I applaud how she's rather tolerated us. There are all the usual hugs and kisses when we've travelled the 4 hours up to Penang to see her, but after that it's "go away and don't make any noise!". Lovely childhood memories that.

And nothing scars a childhood (apart from the lack of doting grandmothers - I have no grandparents on my dad's side) more than your grandparents practically hating each other. It just needs something as small as a drop of soya sauce to spark a world war in the house. My mother, aunts and uncle bear the scars of their battles. My cousins try to make our own happy worlds, but we're affected too. My eldest cousin once said there has never been a family more blessed and yet doesn't recognise it. Eccentricity is clearly a strong trait in this family.

However for all their long-drawn fights, I've never seen my grandparents apart. But clearly something clicked in my grandmother's head when she flung open the front door of our house a week ago and announced to my mother that she was staying and NOT going home. Dammit! Why do I always miss all the drama! It's a welcome ceasefire. And my grandmother who for sometime has been complaining of suffering from every ailment in the world is suddenly very able-bodied. My grandpa is enjoying the luxury of the peace and quiet in which to read his Chinese newspapers.

And I am wondering what could possibly make two people who have nothing nice to say to each other everyday, stay together for so long? 50 odd years is a long time to suffer somebody 24 hours a day.

Nevertheless I'm doing what most of my family is doing - kicking off my shoes, sitting back, and letting the real show begin...