One for the reptiles...

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

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

Go see: The Cicak

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

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In other news


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

I never wanted to go to Cambridge, mum

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm snowed in!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh well, all's forgiven.

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

Springs of Hope

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

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

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

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

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

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

The little thrills...

of my daddy working in the government!

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

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

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

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

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

Chicken soup for the trash

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flower Power!

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


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



With its very own 'flower' van nonetheless

The Saturday and Sunday that comes before a Monday

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Photo Meme

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

Oh shudder! Shall stop that for now.

*courtesy of my niece, aun teeng.

1. The age you will be on your next birthday

2. Your favourite colour

3. Your middle name

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

5. A bad habit of yours

6. Your favourite fruit or vegetable

7. Your favourite animal

8. The city you live in

9. The name of a pet

10. Your best friend's nickname

11. Your first name

Your last name

The one you love

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

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

In other news:
Quirky penis jokes

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peanut butter your way to a girl's heart

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

Sherene, the above link is for you!

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

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

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

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

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

glibbleblubbledish...

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

I dreamt of Odac!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What's in a face?

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

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

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



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



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



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



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



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

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



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



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



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

The unspoken truth is often the harshest...

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

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

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

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.