Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Biometrics

Gattaca is coming, can you feel it?
An underground liberal eugenics movement will be good business in the future.
For a good reason of course, to irradicate heriditary diseases and since we're at it, spruce up the asthetics.
Hmm... time to dust em' genetics textbooks.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

After slaving away in the kitchen for the better part of today, endeavouring to make full use of the overgrown pandan plant on the balcony, I breeched my diet regime tonight, with no less than 7 odd slices of woodfired pizza, calamari rings with huge dolops of tartar sauce and rasberry infused beer. And after all that, there were talks to go get some fried chicken wings, and talks were put into action, although the famed stall was closed. The breech was well worth it though, with the lovely company of the married couple sans golden retriever :( (nevermind next time!) This is what life is all about, pizza and beer on a rainy sunday coupled with camaraderie, stimulating conversation, AND, a good book to top it off. I'm ready for the work week.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Maple syrup, blueberry pancakes and crispy bacon, as odd a combination as it might sound being sweet and savoury and both at adjcent ends of the taste wheel, is actually very delightful! I just finished a long lunch with an old girlfriend I haven't seen in months. She was telling me what life was like in the financial sector, from a broker's perspective. Working hours are based on what time the markets are open and if London is 7 hours behind, then you've got to work based on London time. It's insane. Well, not that doctors have it any easier, but it certainly isn't your 9-5 job, and like doctors, you WILL clock 14 hour days. But, brokers make hellofva lot more money then say, a doctor in a polyclinic. So of course the question came up "Are you sure this is what you want to do? You're not going be even making 3 grand when you first start out as a houseman, and you'll be? What? 32?"

I know the deal, I'm getting left behing while my peers are moving up the corporate ladder. I'm stagnating at this point, because honestly, I'm not moving forward in terms of a career neither am I moving forwards acedemically. Geez it's a second bachelor for crying out loud, not even honours. What I do know however is, I'm making progress in my own way, and it may not be visible yet, but I can't for the life of me picture anything else I would rather do then to perform rectal examinations and treat parang wounds of ah bengs. So yes, it IS what I want to do, and even though I'm not going live poshly for the next 5 years, and be 32 when I start on a career, this is what I want to do so help me God. Like how it was when I was a kid at the receiving end of constant fat jibes, I've got to toughen up to face well-meaning friends, who, I believe, just want what's best for me, and not take things too personally. And today I didn't! A quiet battle won. I can do this.

PS: I caved and now have a new book anyway and it's not even Haddon's! :p

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Bachelors


Bachelor pads have that whole 'I am Tarzan King of the Jungle' feel to the place, usually featuring black and white quite prominantly, with one sensual colour thrown in, usually red or purple. I can't say I don't like it though. It's all very chic and elegant, and lets not forget the designer furniture, the Hans Grohe inspired raindance shower head, the industrial metal doors and raw finished ceilings. It was nice visiting the bachelor pad, but I do hope some lovely lady will invade the space soon, and warm it up with a nice oak dinner table, pastel kitchen aid mixer and some good ol' home cooking. It's always nice to have someone to share your space with.

Friday, October 20, 2006


New Toy

I refuse to pay for classes, but safe to say with manual, tea and sigur ros, the running of thread to the bobby, bobby into slot, thread roll into needle, has been accomplished and everything's set up and put where it should be. It's so much fun! It's got a black peddle that you tap with your foot to get the machine going and it makes you feel quite clever when you see the needle furiously punching its way though the fabric. Heh. I can't wait to hit people's park this weekend to buy deliciously coloured fabric. I'm being a hermit as usual, but next week is meet other human beings week and it should be fun returning to normalcy. Meanwhile, back to the whirrrr of the new toy!

The forum pages published a letter from concerned citizens regarding healthy young NS men undergoing training during the haze. Like I said,
WHAT ABOUT THE FOREIGN CONSTRUCTION WORKERS!
Most of them middle aged and working round the clock shifts no matter how high the PSI! I haven't seen any masks being worn by the men working on a project opposite my house. And we worry about our healthy young men running around in the jungle, jungle with trees that give out oxygen during the day due to photosynthesis! That's the best place to be during a haze dingbats!

Bah!

Just a thought.
We've all been griping about the lock in of the heat and the ash and the burnt smells and general discomfort of the haze, but can you imagine what it must be like for the foreign workers in their container bunks with one fan shared by 6-8?

Thursday, October 19, 2006

SCHOOL'S OUT!
SCHOOL'S OUT!
SCHOOL'S OUT!
SCHOOL'S OUT!
SCHOOL'S OUT!

Only back to work next thursday.
Meanwhile, Bye Bye for now!

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

I've always wondered if the engineers factored in a day when everyone in the building I'm staying in decides to buy grand pianos and hold big recitals for their friends, with crates of wine and rotund friends. No seriously? What happens during christmas when everyone in the bulding has a party. As it is I'm constantly worried that I'm going to plummet 10 floors down one day because my bedroom is next to the living room which holds an extremely heavy italian dinning table which needed a frickin crane to hoist it into our living room (boy the neighbours had a field day) when we moved in.

Yes, I'm terrified even in the confines of home.
We're all going to die!!!
I think I'm having cabin fever.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

CLASSES FOR MEN AT THE LEARNING CENTRE FOR ADULTS
(My personal favourite is Class 13)

Class 1
How To Fill Up The Ice Cube Trays --- Step by Step, with Slide
Presentation.

Class 2
The Toilet Paper Roll --- Does It Change Itself?
Round Table Discussion.

Class 3
Is It Possible To Urinate Using The Technique Of Lifting The Seat and
Avoiding The Floor, Walls and Nearby Bathtub? --- Group Practice.

Class 4
Fundamental Differences Between The Laundry Hamper and The Floor ---
Pictures and Explanatory Graphics.

Class 5
After Dinner Dishes --- Can They Levitate and Fly Into The Kitchen
Sink?
Examples on Video.

Class 6
Loss Of Identity --- Losing The Remote To Your Significant Other.
Help Line Support and Support Groups.

Class 7
Learning How To Find Things --- Starting With Looking In The Right
Places And Not Turning The House Upside Down While Screaming.
Open Forum.

Class 8
Health Watch --- Bringing Her Flowers Is Not Harmful To Your Health.
Graphics and Audio Tapes.

Class 9
Real Men Ask For Directions When Lost --- Real Life Testimonials.

Class 10
Is It Genetically Impossible To Sit Quietly While She Parallel Parks?
Driving Simulations.

Class 11
Learning to Live --- Basic Differences Between Mother and Wife.
Online Classes and role-playing.

Class 12
How to be the Ideal Shopping Companion
Relaxation Exercises, Meditation and Breathing Techniques.

Class 13
How to Fight Cerebral Atrophy --- Remembering Birthdays, Anniversaries
and Other Important Dates and Calling When You're Going To Be Late.
Cerebral Shock Therapy Sessions and Full Lobotomies Offered.

Class 14
The Stove/Oven --- What It Is and How It Is Used.
Live Demonstration.

(Thanks Shu! I can relate to this. We are not alone!)

Hello. You know your exam starts tomorrow when you take the kitchen scissors and get into a frenzy after having your fringe poke your eyeballs whilst trying to make out the illegible chicken scratchings you made whilst revising, and then proceed to rabidly chop off the fringe in bunches AND can't give two hoots when your mother tells you you look ridiculous demanding you be dragged to the nearest salon to get the damaged fixed so you do not embarrass her. Ya. That's how you'll know.

Monday, October 16, 2006

If there is the lull period before I get accepted to do med in Australia, I promise to crawl out of the comfort zone and take a 6 month haitus to get my foot into what I hope to do 5 years after qualifying. IF it all goes according to plan.

My mother always insisted the 4 odd years of my brother and I spending our saturdays in french class, instead of playing in the sun like normal children was going to be put to use someday.

By golly, I hope she's right.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Sometime last August, I had to suck it up and do the unthinkable, street surveys.
Being part of the communications team with the previous company, came with alot of strings attached, including giving health/money sense talks to smelly screaming primary kids (which I later actually grew to love). Back to the surveys. We needed to get info on public perception, and being a Not For Profit, couldn't hire part-timers to do the sweating it out.

It was also around this time that Sonny told me "If anyone is nasty, I'll write them a stern letter." I remember this because I thought to myself, that I would rather sock their faces and resort to mindless violence a la kill bill style complete with harikiris.

This morning, an issue made me very upset. It seems the only way to solve it is to involve some writing of stern letters. It is a bit tricky and risky and I have to give it alot of thought because I can implicate people that I do not want implicated. I have however, decided to do it, because I think this faction in Singapore needs a voice. Not enough people are speaking up for them, simply because we are unaware that such attrocities are going on.

This writing of stern letters is indeed a fine craft, and I shall endevour to nuture and cultivate it like a botanist would a rare orchid.

Friday, October 13, 2006


Slightly over a month before I get to see the two monkeys, complete with soaking of sun, boating, and swimming in the sea :)

Thursday, October 12, 2006

MARK
Yesterday evening I wanted to pop into a bookstore to get MARK HADDON's latest, 'A Spot of Brother'. I read his previous book, 'The curious incident of the dog in the night time' and really really enjoyed it. However, I got so distracted by the beautiful jam creams THE OTHER MARK had to offer, I forgot all about Mark H.

7 jam creams later and no Mark H to indulge in half an hour before bed, I was really regretting saying yes to the other Mark. In anycase, I realised that I have shitloads of half read books looking all forlorn on the shelf. I shall pick one tonight to pair up with the final jam cream, and no buying of 'A spot of brother' till...
Kazantzakis: The Last Temptation of Christ
Palahniuk: Choke
Schroeder: The Science of God

...are well and truly finished.

Family
My brother has been having a really really tough time with apartment hunting since his return a month ago, no thanks to a dodgy housing agent and 2 spoilt 20 year old girls he had to house with. He has since lost the 3 bedder apartment they were suppose to get and is now out on the streets again looking for a studio. The cousins have been really kind putting him up in their house (complete with apple tree and squirrels!!!). I really hope he finds a place soon, nothing is worse than not having a nook of your own to go back to after a long day of lectures and debate, and in a foreign place no less. Part and parcel of growing up I suppose, but he will always be my little brother and I can't help feeling so very sorry for him.

Monday, October 09, 2006

5th post in 2 days.
Can you tell I'm bored?
It's either one becomes a tad more introspective because of dull mugging periods, or escape having to remember useless scientific jargon by being introspective. Whatever lah.

I shall endevour to stop surfing and blogging and DO WORK!
Yesterday I ditched study and went to play. 5 glorious hours of play.
I was obviously hoping for a surge of motivation after playtime but nah-ah. Nada. Ziltch.

But, today will be different.
No more posting and surfing till Friday at least.
Ok bye bye. AND if you see me posting on mine or commenting on YOUR blog, please scold me and tell me to shove off.

Be good to your gnomes.


It's the final countdown... yet again! Gag.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Gripe

Magazines.
I have stopped reading magazines for about 2 years.
Singapore magazines are full of useless shit, and very uninspiring. Useless stories about other people's sex lives, relationship woes, gossip on Singapore's not very exiciting entertainment personalities. Dull. Boring. Prententious.
Then there are the ads. Pages after pages after pages of women posing with bags, shoes, perfumes, lipstick, mascara, shampoo, trainers, watches, jewellery. Fair enough, for business reasons, one cannot have a magazine devoid of glossy mind numbing ads. Still. Finish flipping though the initial ad pages and you're about one third way through the magazine till you hear a 'Hello' from the editor-in-chief. And it doesn't end there. They work on a ratio of one story is to 4 ads, thereabouts. Ludicrous

April 2003, it was the last semester of undergrad. Didi, a housemate in an all girls christian boarding house, fruit of the single child policy and starving for anything underground, forbidden and taboo. I spent a few afternoons in her room with fairy lights listening to Muse, Vines and Jack Johnson. She was also the one that gave me my first nylon, which I later repaid with a MOFO button. Nylon. Nylon anti gloss. Nylon the independent. Nylon 2003. It became my staple, the one and only frivolous paid magazine I would indulge in every month. Vice, which was free, also indie and completely anti glitz, was the other frivolity. I still keep Volume one issue 2. My one and only, the others were lost whilst moving.

As with any independent publication that starts out with a divine mission statement working towards the promotion of independent music, underground artists, online shops, obscure joints, they often sell out to the lure of ka-chiing. The magazine gets thicker, the ads increase, the price inflates. Nylon cashed in on their 'indie' label. I have since stopped buying Nylon.

With the growing population of pseudo 'Anti-Establishment' gen X sometimes Y kiddos/yuppies, it's suddenly cool to be indie. SCREW indie I say! Why do you like indie? Do you actually like the music? Or has it become a status symbol that you wear proudly when you go to one of those parties to try and integrate into the scene? I'm so sick of commercial indie, everyone wants to be anti-mainstream. Disgusting. Especially people who go to concerts and proudly turn to you and tell you 'Acutally I don't know why I came. I only know one song!'. Indie is no more, indie is dead.

The revolution has begun, we are the face of the new generation.


I EAT CHILDREN

Grandpa has been staying with us since Wednesday, and will be for the next 10 days.
My grandpa never worked a day in his life, so, suffice to say he's been rather spoilt.
By Grandma, by his children.
He has been used to having servants at his beck and call and a wife that works to support the family.
I respect my grandpa a great deal, a highly educated man with impeccable manners.
A true gentleman.
I don't mind having to look after him even though I'm mugging for the exams.
I don't mind going to to buy his lunch, have to prepare his medication, supporting him to the dining table or toilet.
It's really ok, I'm happy to.
But, I can't get used to the musky smell that old people have.
I couldn't adjust to it during my stint in Little Sisters of the Poor and I still can't now.

Why is that?
That everytime I get a whiff, I want to hurl.
It doesn't mean I love him any less, it's...it's just the smell.

Friday, October 06, 2006

For lack of a better description,
Robert Smith couldn't have put it better:

I can't find myself!
I can't find myself!
I can't find myself!
I can't find myself!

I don't like what I've become these days, bitter, cynical and jaded. I seemed to have lost a fare bit of that carefree bubbly spirit I still had when I was fresh into uni. My humour is drier these days, and if you didn't see me face to face, you'd think that this was the voice of an angry shrivelled old pune sitting on her rocker sipping tea and snapping at anyone that came within a 10 mile radius.

A little less kind, sympathetic, giving and self-sacrificing. A little more selfish, guarded, frustrated and weary.
Weary of the constant curve balls that life has been serving.
Still carrying battle scars and brandishing badges of war.

Somedays I'm tired of being angry, most days it's what fuels the motions.
What happened to compassion, love, forgiveness, happiness and good values and traits that makes one glow from within?

I'm not a nice person anymore and I don't like how resentment and anger have manifested into someone cold and selfish.
I need to find myself again.