Amid the loud, loud headbanging (hurray for old school '90s grunge) music playing in the background and my Artificial Intelligence coursework (I curse the day Prolog was invented) just lurking somewhere on my desktop, I thought I'd compile a list of a few things that add a little sparkle to my otherwise mundane life. These things that may not make me smile or laugh or show any outward emotion whatsoever, but they do elicit a nascent feeling of unadulterated warmth and satiation after. The concept is simple, really.
Not in any particular order.
- my grandparents
- listening to my song of the moment on repeat for 24 hours straight
- sipping on sugarless black coffee in the morning
- sun rays glimmering through a section of cloud in the evening sky before sunset
- nice texts from people you haven't heard from in a while
- nice texts
- late night conversations that seem to go on forever
- eating a very simple lunch with my family at home on a regular weekday
- being able to string together a sentence with English, Malay, Hokkien and Mandarin thrown in. sometimes even Cantonese.
- when a song I really like comes on radio (back home, that is)
- the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from a bakery
- the sight of iced cupcakes
- the knowledge that i've cleaned up and settled everything for the day so i can retire to bed peacefully
- watching my muffins rise in the oven
- buying cheap cocktail rings that engulf my fingers
- after running for two hours, i still am not panting my guts out. (but sadly, i reckon this is no longer the case)
- vacuuming
- rearranging my wardrobe
- getting a much needed hug
- cracking my knuckles until they pop
- stumbling upon a piece of inexpensive clothing or jewellery that you know you must have
- mosh pits
- getting up from the hairdresser's chair after five hours and then proceeding to admire newly blow dried hair
- brie cheese and crackers
- not fucking up my nails when i paint them
- handwritten letters
- adorning my entire wrist with ridiculous gewgaws
Walking in Someone Else's Shoes
| Published in portobello road, vintage shoes | 0 comments
Was supposed to study today, but stuff like being unable to repress the urge to buy things happens.
My first pair of vintage shoes, circa 1980s.
Not too pricey, plus they match the hair. So wtf.
13 Again
March 05, 2009 | Published in punk rock princess | 0 comments
My hair is blue- and red-striped. Always been a sucker for hair dye. But I've been told I look like a Barcelona FC fan and my hair vaguely resembles the French flag/Malaysian flag without the yellow.
Ahluvvet.
Ahluvvet.
You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet
March 02, 2009 | Published in Metallica | 0 comments
'Til you've seen Metallica live.
True, I never really listened to them before this, but I don't care. Die hard Metallica fans can kill me but I am happy. You can shoot me and I will die and I won't come back to haunt you. I only have ever liked "Enter Sandman" and "Die, Die, My Darling" (as in, know lyrics inside out) but fuck that. Their stage presence is amazing. It's beyond words. I can finally use the word ineffable. James Hetfield knows how to control a ten thousand plus crowd, I have to say. He really does. My calves hurt like a bitch from all the incessant tiptoeing I've been doing to peer over the heads of many sweat drenched metalheads but I am pleased. Oh God I'm rambling.
I can't remember the last time I head banged like a fat shirtless man with multiple piercings. I believe I was fourteen and standing very, very far away from Linkin Park in the year 2003. God, that was classic. That was the beginning of one stage of my life. And this....
Wtf. This is only, like, the best thing ever.
Fever
March 01, 2009 | Published in cold, fever, sick |
I stumble around feebly in an oxygen-deprived haze, wholly incapable of breathing through my nose, slipping in and out of a cold somnambulant state, weaving in and out of perishable dreams where people don't speak to me or know my name and into the stark reality that is my cold, cold dimly lit bedroom. I rue the fact that I was awoken by sunshine and the catastrophic sounds of morning - the scraping of chairs on the floor above, the slamming of doors, the screeches and wailings of the minute toddler across the hall. Why wake me when I want to sleep for a week and remember the trivial details of my senseless dreams that torture me with beautiful and painful memories from a contorted time well of past, present and that of which has never happened to me: a boy who has never uttered more than five words to me in his life, another who has said too much, a wreckage of glass, displaced screams and frozen supermarket trolleys in a blizzard. Then I am falling wayward into a chasm that has broken all laws of the space-time continuum to the rhythm of a hundred and twenty five decibel sound that vaguely resembles the sound that resonates from a cheap drugstore alarm clock. My eyes fly open and I think all the world has ended but in truth I lie only in the cold rank darkness of 3.41AM. Then I am happy amidst a trail of destruction and sorrow, feeling a warm hand on mine that only elicited memories of the warm scent of soap, oil and freshly pressed towels. Then I am amid verdant greenery and flowers and best friends that translate into a sinking peatbog that claws at me with brown fingers. I hold my breath.
Wake up, wake up.
Dreammaker's Gonna Make You Mad
February 24, 2009 | Published in The Killers | 0 comments
I'm breaking my back just to know your name
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
Run for the hills before they burn
I got soul but I'm not a soldier
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss
Someone is calling my name, from the back of a restaurant
<3
!!!!
Vintage
February 23, 2009 | Published in Beauty and the Beast, books, novels | 3 comments
Even though Amazon sells books for pretty darn cheap and offers free delivery, I'd still rather buy used books; the total price for used books including shipping totals up to more than buying it straight from Amazon. I adore poring through slightly yellowed paper knowing that somewhere someone else has shared the same emotions that I am about to experience while reading the same novel. I think it binds humanity in an odd sort of way.
I am saddened at how these days tapping away at the computer aimlessly has overridden my interest in reading paperbacks. I am a sad, sad by-product of the 21st century.
One day, when I grow old, I want that exact library that the Beast gave Belle.
Complete with the swirly staircase and the mile high ladders.
An Unconventional Way to Curb Your Appetite
February 21, 2009 | Published in food porn, gross, This is Why You're Fat, yummy | 0 comments
(Images from thisiswhyyourefat.com)
In essence, this website was made to deter people from eating bad, bad foods.
HOWEVER. I'm not sure about the effect it has on me because these days I've been teetering on the fine line between eating 4 Hummingbird cupcakes at a go and simply not eating at all.
I ate a handful of jellybeans today though, just because I cannot walk into Topshop without perusing the sweets section. In any case, I needed glucose to fuel my burnt out calf muscles and hamstrings after having raped and pillaged Oxford St.
Anyhoo, I digress. To be frank, I'm quite curious about how these things taste. Especially that deep fried cupcake. (Must make mental note to go around to a chip shop to order a deep fried Mars bar). There's something called Deep Fried Coca Cola too, which is basically kway koh dok fried with Coke instead of with bananas or jackfruit topped with powdered sugar.
There is an entire diorama of wildly weird and wonderful food blogs out there, to name but a few:
Eh, Malaysian food can get pretty weird sometimes too (don't even talk to me about tempoyak; it's the ONLY thing I will not eat) - but always in a good way lah.
Day 2
February 19, 2009 | Published in fat fat fat, food, health, low GI, oatmeal | 0 comments
One word: OATMEAL.
Boyndie Broth (Oatmeal Soup)
A very economical, velvety and elegant soup which is quickly and easily prepared. The addition of good undyed smoked haddock or smoked salmon makes a good alternative to Cullen Skink.
50g (2oz) Hamlyns Scottish Porridge Oats
1 chopped onion
1 large carrot grated
2 tablespoons butter
550ml (1 pint) chicken stock
550ml (1 pint) milk
Salt and white pepper
Chopped chives or parsley
Cream for finishing (optional)
Melt butter in a large pan over a low heat. Add onions and carrot and cook gently until soft. Add oats to pan and cook for about four minutes, stirring frequently. Add stock and bring to the boil. Simmer for 25 minutes. Add milk and heat through. Season to taste. Add chives or parsley, and a little cream if desired.
The above makes a thick broth - use less oats and more stock if you prefer a thinner soup.
Why did I NEVER eat this before? It's good for the heart, lowers your cholesterol, low-fat, low GI and all around awesome (if and only if cooked with the right ingredients)!
I've never eaten oatmeal (well, GOOD oatmeal anyway) because I've been preconditioned to equate oatmeal to oldies. My grandparents' senior citizen friends - aged 73 - 84 - frequently boast about the goodness of oatmeal and how it keeps their stomachs full the whole day from breakfast time till dinner. Naturally, after hearing them talk, I would bask in the glory of my youth and show off how much fried chicken I'm allowed to have without having a coronary.
The best part about oats is that, unlike rice, it can be cooked for breakfast, lunch and dinner in a zillion ways. For example (ripped from here)
Boyndie Broth (Oatmeal Soup)
A very economical, velvety and elegant soup which is quickly and easily prepared. The addition of good undyed smoked haddock or smoked salmon makes a good alternative to Cullen Skink.
50g (2oz) Hamlyns Scottish Porridge Oats
1 chopped onion
1 large carrot grated
2 tablespoons butter
550ml (1 pint) chicken stock
550ml (1 pint) milk
Salt and white pepper
Chopped chives or parsley
Cream for finishing (optional)
Melt butter in a large pan over a low heat. Add onions and carrot and cook gently until soft. Add oats to pan and cook for about four minutes, stirring frequently. Add stock and bring to the boil. Simmer for 25 minutes. Add milk and heat through. Season to taste. Add chives or parsley, and a little cream if desired.
The above makes a thick broth - use less oats and more stock if you prefer a thinner soup.
It leaves you feeling like you don't want anymore food, too. Always a plus point :)
Detox Shmetox
February 18, 2009 | Published in crazy shizz, diary of, Diet Coke, diets | 0 comments
So, my equally spastic friend and I decided to go on this 11 day diet. I was enthusiastic last night, almost scarily motivated. But, as you know, summoning willpower is no easy task. Don't even bother asking why I'm attempting to do this. I think I'm bored.
2.47PM: "V__, I'M HUNGRY!"
"SHUT UP. Stop saying that."
2.48PM: Contemplate biting own finger to eschew hunger.
4.01PM: We grab Diet Cokes as they are "ok" according to the diet. This is utter rubbish, as most people would know. Diet Coke has always inherently been abused by people who cannot stomach the guilt of drinking fat Coke or anything sweet, for that matter. Feel like a Mars Bar? Grab a Diet Coke. Stressed much? Reach for another. Most of us girls wilfully ignore the blatant fact that aspartame is 200 times sweeter than actual sugar and drink the carcinogenic fluid anyway.
4.30PM: Feel a bit ill after having chugged down 500ml of Diet Coke so quickly.
5.10PM: Code works! Hurray. Give banana away. Make own way home. Fucking starving.
6.15PM: Spin class. As if not eating proper food the whole day wasn't painful enough.
7PM: Finish spinning. Am not feeling too hungry, actually.
8.22PM: Consume a "bowl of red and green mixed vegetables" with a side of soy milk. Only, I add some lemon and smoked salmon and throw in a piece of pita bread.
9.17PM: Feel a bit insane after having reviewed entire day. Yeah, I have problems.
7.45AM: Wake up, brush teeth, microwave some oats with blueberries. Couldn't finish it due to overwhelmingly gooey texture that reminded me of vomit.
10AM: Falling asleep in class. Head on table-, drifting off to dreamland-type sleep. Only wake up when prof says "If you've been asleep in all my lectures, this is the time to wake up because it's ENTIRELY relevant to your coursework!" Wake up in time for 5 minute break to grab a large Americano.
12PM: Stomach sort of grumbles. Intense Mandarin lesson.
1.13PM: Can feel acid attacking walls of stomach. Prompt another less insane friend to eat lunch. Grab salad, juice and banana.
1.20PM: "WHAT IS THAT?! JUICE? BANANA? FETA CHEESE ON YOUR SALAD? That's NOT what the diet says! Only nuts and soy milk for lunch!" Run to a corner to eat salad (sans dressing) in secret.
2PM: Start doing MATLAB. Am a little distracted by Ksubi jeans. This spurs me on a bit.
2.47PM: "V__, I'M HUNGRY!"
"SHUT UP. Stop saying that."
2.48PM: Contemplate biting own finger to eschew hunger.
4.01PM: We grab Diet Cokes as they are "ok" according to the diet. This is utter rubbish, as most people would know. Diet Coke has always inherently been abused by people who cannot stomach the guilt of drinking fat Coke or anything sweet, for that matter. Feel like a Mars Bar? Grab a Diet Coke. Stressed much? Reach for another. Most of us girls wilfully ignore the blatant fact that aspartame is 200 times sweeter than actual sugar and drink the carcinogenic fluid anyway.
4.30PM: Feel a bit ill after having chugged down 500ml of Diet Coke so quickly.
5.10PM: Code works! Hurray. Give banana away. Make own way home. Fucking starving.
6.15PM: Spin class. As if not eating proper food the whole day wasn't painful enough.
7PM: Finish spinning. Am not feeling too hungry, actually.
8.22PM: Consume a "bowl of red and green mixed vegetables" with a side of soy milk. Only, I add some lemon and smoked salmon and throw in a piece of pita bread.
9.17PM: Feel a bit insane after having reviewed entire day. Yeah, I have problems.
Flavours of the Moment
February 17, 2009 | Published in fat fat fat, nasi ayam, the veronicas | 0 comments
- The Veronicas and their newish album, 'Hook Me Up'.
I feel like being re-born with musical aptitude just so I can play the guitar and sing and jump around like them. Awesomes.- Want Cheras chicken rice. With the famous chilli sauce and mashed ginger.
But obviously can't get this.
So, in a complete hundred and eighty turn of willpower, will embark on 11 day detoxing regime starting tomorrow. Goddamned abs and smaller Victorian waist here I come.
China Pwns Malaysia.
February 16, 2009 | Published in black humour, china | 0 comments
Ripped from thestar.com.my as 2nd most viewed article of the day.
Sample question (out of a possible hundred) from a driver's license test in China.
If someone’s intestines are protruding from an open abdominal wound, should you:
A. Put them back in place.
B. Do nothing.
C. Cover them with some kind of container and fasten it around the body.
I would've picked A, but apparently the answer is C.
I'm surprised there wasn't a D:
D. Hastily slice away a good portion, stash it in a large black garbage bag so that no one can see what you're doing and then go makepig human intestine soup with pepper.
Sample question (out of a possible hundred) from a driver's license test in China.
If someone’s intestines are protruding from an open abdominal wound, should you:
A. Put them back in place.
B. Do nothing.
C. Cover them with some kind of container and fasten it around the body.
I would've picked A, but apparently the answer is C.
I'm surprised there wasn't a D:
D. Hastily slice away a good portion, stash it in a large black garbage bag so that no one can see what you're doing and then go make
Kenot Sleep
February 10, 2009 | Published in sleep deprivation | 0 comments
Reaaaalllyy cannnottt.
Fine, it's only 12.55am. That's early for some people. It used to be early also for me back in my heyday. I'm trying to eliminate this whole sleeping late thing from my lifestyle. It makes me crabby. Too crabby.
Just for fun I'll throw in a photo that reminds me of when I first read The Chronicles of Narnia (at age 18, no less) and thought that this is exactly what the gaslight post at the other end of the door should have looked like the second Lucy stumbled through the wardrobe door.
My reason for living
February 07, 2009 | Published in the sims 2 | 0 comments
Don't tell anyone but when it was snowing and when we were building a snowman, I secretly hoped this would happen :(
What Do YOU Want?
| Published in sex and the city, women | 0 comments
Was reading an article. First line that pops up in front of my face was this: "What do women want?"
This Freudian question has never really been answered. Not by men, not by women. Some women want any old man who will be the provider of the White Wedding, a fuck load of diamonds and satisfying coitus (no cunnilingus! Dear me, no, that's just distasteful! Not to mention unhygienic) three times a week. Okay, so let's call that category the Charlottes because I lack originality and I like Sex and the City. I'd say a good lot of us girls fall into this category - secretly. But you know what? A lot of us are ashamed to admit this because women are meant to be independent these days. The Charlottes of this world should probably be more respected than frowned upon by tiger types.
So I guess after that you'd have the Mirandas of the world (I really should be shot through the head for classifying women into four categories, but I have a 3rd year project to be getting on with). Career-driven, power suited up with hair so short sometimes she'd get mistaken for a really dowdy lesbian. She's got the whole indefatigable solid iron wall in front of her emotions going because wearing hearts on sleeves is a crime, especially in the office. She'd never let a man ruin her or her career. She THINKS she knows what she wants, but she's a pretty torn up inside - showcased in the episode where she's torn between aborting Steve's baby or keeping it.
Then we have the Samanthas. Everyone likes to think they have a little bit of Samantha in them...y'know the crazy "try-sexual" and "will-put-sushi-0n-naked-body-for-Valentine's-Day" part. Samantha's pretty clear about what she wants: sex. I admire women who know this and are willing to go forth and make it known to the world, but I don't think I wasn't made like that. However, is it more complicated than that? Who knows. She's goddamned entertaining and makes the episode a lot more bearable. Nobody really cares about her anyway except for her sexual exploits and scathing remarks. Everyone cares about good ol' Carrie Bradshaw.
I don't know how many people would classify themselves as a Carrie, but I'm guessing...quite a lot? I know my whole house hates her guts because she can afford a wardrobe with 40 pairs of Manolos while subsisting on a weekly sex column in a relatively unknown newspaper. Plus, she always does that "I can't help but wonder..."
God, I love irony.
Anyway.
I'd say the Carries of this world are on their own self-searching Nirvana finding path to self-actualization. I guess throughout the series, Carrie always wanted Big and her Big happy ending. Not all of us are so lucky as to have an asshole with a surprise center bumping into us every now and then (I still can't believe he dumped her at the wedding! OKOK it's just a movie) asking us out on expensive dinners and such, so it would be unjust to lump most women into this category.
Fact is, these days it's not easy to classify what you want, not with movies like these subtly psychologically jolting you into thinking that THIS (Prada bag, big big wedding, 3 published books, DVF wrap dresses) is what you SHOULD want. Sex and the City is quite contradictory because on one hand, it purports female independence through Miranda and Samantha, yet holds on to romantic ideals via Charlotte and Carrie. Perhaps both men and women can't let go of the fact that times are changing/have changed and that you don't have to be in a relationship anymore to be cool or secure, hence this confusing myriad of movies, magazines and songs that speak about female emancipation from the shackles of men (ref: "Independent Women" by Destiny's Child) whilst also talking about "How to Blow Your Man's Mind in 10 Simple Steps" (haha whaddup).
Well, I suppose life is indeed that complicated and that these four women are simply microcosms of urban life in 2009. I agree. I think I am a trail mix of these four women.
Having said all of that, no, I don't know what I want.
I'm just contemplating what I'm going to do in the next five minutes after I finish writing this. Oh ya, 3rd year project.
A Regular Thursday Afternoon
February 05, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments
I pray for a blue sky for you, too.
After Dinner Talk
February 01, 2009 | Published in anytime, sometimes | 0 comments
Most times
- I'm pretty damn boring.
- I love heartwrenching guitar riffs and voices with a resonating timbre (kinda like that of the very well defined frontman of Incubus). Except for the fuzzy bearded men of System of a Down.
- You'll find me sitting at the computer - headphones on - reading pointless articles from the NY Times pretending to be intellectual and then suddenly switching to Perezhilton.com. God bless the Internet.
- I hate Katy Perry's songs.
- I love my feet too much to cram them into a pair of pointy toed 5 inch heels everyday. Until, of course, occasions roll around and I whip out my hooker heels. Nobody can refuse a pair of hooker heels.
Sometimes
- I like Katy Perry's songs.
- I drink beer three days in a row, gamble and scream and shout like a fifty-five-year-old menopausal woman with fire engine red hair who sells you your local chicken rice at the market and then spend the next day listening to terribly constructed songs that lack emotional and or/ear-worthy content but are ineffably catchy.
- I lose £10
- I win £10
- I want to sleep till the world has shifted such that I am surrounded by everything that I ever wanted to see in "Lord of the Rings". Forever, basically.
新年
January 25, 2009 | Published in | 0 comments
Above: Home-made keropok flown from Sarawak :)
New year, hopefully different shit. Unlike the previous "new years". Nothing beats the scent of freshly fried keropok and a bowl of steaming soup chock full to the brim with sotong, vegetable and meatballs. I was lucky enough this year to stuff my face with steamboat goodies at an aunty's place.
I miss Chinese New Year at home, where ma famille often spends it in the godawfully humid and sometimes acrid-smelling town of Port Dickson. Us children often gambled and played PlayStation 2 into the wee hours of the morning. We then would wake up up to go visit the old folks around town. That would take about an entire day, maybe with a nap in between or something. My sister and I would be saturated with Yeo's packet drinks (I lurrveee their soy bean and winter melon, fyi) and keropok and kacang. Yum, yum.
Well, this year, however, we decided to make something of ourselves instead of loafing around pointlessly and do something productive. Et voila.
The char siew was a major failure after I realized that I had already started on the wrong foot by buying the wrong cut of meat from Waitrose. Srs fail, btches. If you look closely, you will see that it is almost 99% fat. Yummeh. In my defence, new year, new mistakes. The ma po tofu was fine though, as were the delightfully erratic looking dumplings.
We also managed to spring clean before the clock struck 12. Hurray for not sweeping out good fortune during the New Year! My late greatgrandmother always said it was bad luck to clean during the New Year. That is indeed fifteen days worth of dust that will accumulate on your windowsill - not that that hasn't been accomplished in this flat on a regular basis, though..
Good night.
Film/Book/Music Porn
January 23, 2009 | Published in books, movies, music | 0 comments
Spoiler alert.
Admittedly, the script did not send shivers down my spine. Huh. I thought it would've. 'Brokeback Mountain' with all of Ennis del Mar's incoherent utterings did much more for me than 'Rachel Getting Married'. But. But because of the lukewarm script, Anne Hathaway really did strut herself as an actress in this show. From playing a geeky bespectacled unwitting princess many moons ago to a fucked up recovering drug addict, I'd say the Academy better give her this one.
Have rediscovered early 90's post-Nirvana rock 'n' roll in the form of the Stone Temple Pilots. Scott Weiland is the only man alive who can pull off shiny skinny pants. <3
Finished 'The Color Purple' last week after having attempted to read it at the age of 14. Six years later I discover that I can understand conversations with God spoken by a 14-year-old uneducated black woman perfectly. I can even do the Georgian country accent in my head. Kinda like Mammy in 'Gone with the Wind'.
Now am onto other novels which I do not think I will finish until the days become longer and the nights shorter. I hate reading in bed in the dark. It depresses me and puts me in the shoes of those poor bastards in all literary novels.
I really should just lose a hundred pounds and walk around with black eyeliner on 24/7 just because it's artistic and cool to be thin and emo pensive.
And! 'How I Met Your Mother'! Only one word for it! Legen-waitforitthisisgonnabeawesomeeee-DARRYY.
Care to Cher?
January 02, 2009 | Published in 2009, reinvention | 0 comments
I've been listening to plenty of Cher. Her songs are bloody awesome and nobody else can wear fishnet stockings the way she does. She's my new role model. She invented Reinvention waaay before Madonna did.
I am going to Reinvent myself. My life is going to Reinvent itself. It will and it shall.
2009
December 30, 2008 | Published in 2009, new year's | 0 comments
2008 was by no means altogether shit; it was, in fact, a year of many unexpected surprises. Like a box of chocolates or whatever it is that Forrest Gump says.
Time for one of those magnanimous messages and objective yearly reviews:
1) I am eternally grateful to those who have tolerated my ability to get angry about anything and everything that moves and doesn't move. It is a horrible habit, I must admit. If I have harmed you verbally or physically this year, I am sorry. If I haven't (yet?)...well, this is a warning.
Really, to all those who have listened to my incessant bitching, thank you. I will bake more.
2) I am also eternally grateful for the food on my plate, gym membership and Miu Miu handbag.
3) OK fine I will study harder this year since I already do that whole 5-days-a-week-at-the-gym thing that most people aim to do during the start of the year. (Ha ha)
4) I must really improve my grasp on spoken Mandarin and Cantonese.
5) Whatever will be, will be.
万事如意！
How Good Have You Been This Year?
December 15, 2008 | Published in christmas, hohoho | 0 comments
Want: new bags, new shoes, new kitchen sink, new coat, new American Apparel dress, new pet rabbit, new belt, new fur-trimmed bolero, new purple giraffe, new sneakers, snazzy Ralph Lauren blazer, Chanel earrings, new laptop, new Internet connection, new loaf tin, new leggings, new eyebrows, new Topshop accessories, new French Soles, new gym shoes, new dinosaur model, new ....me?
Need: Absolutely nothing - except maybe washboard abs and Bundchenian legs.
The true spirit of Christmas is in the giving, kids. Santa knows it when you try to earn brownie points. Heigh ho!
Need: Absolutely nothing - except maybe washboard abs and Bundchenian legs.
The true spirit of Christmas is in the giving, kids. Santa knows it when you try to earn brownie points. Heigh ho!
I Don't Sleep
December 10, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
I'll sing it one last time for you
Then we really have to go
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done
And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do
This song often pervades my dreams.
Then we really have to go
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done
And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do
This song often pervades my dreams.
Of Surprises and Marathons
December 07, 2008 | Published in borough market, food, grr, marathon | 0 comments
Saturday morning - went to Borough Market to eat more food. I have a newfound love for wild boar sausages. I delight in its remarkable crunchy chewiness. So much better than regular pork sausages, to be honest.
May it set your heart aflutter.I tried out a recipe for eggless brownies this weekend as a present for a friend. I don't know how people survive sans eggs or meat, but I personally couldn't do it; so much so that I baked another Banana Chocolate Walnut cake (with eggs) this evening. Saturday ended with a re-run of X Factor and discovering cute boyband. Bring back the boybands!
And then. And then. That marathon I've been training for. I wake up at 7AM this morning, brush my teeth, put on my contacts, have a hearty oaty breakfast with the requisite mug of coffee (two tsp of Nescafe, one sugar, skimmed milk), put on my running clothes, thought "Goddammit I shall finish that 42km today whether I like it or not", chat to my not-cranky-for-the-first-time-in-the-morning flatmates who are most supportive and head out the door. To my surprise, it is a lovely day. Oh, how could anything go wrong? I will finish running 42km before the sun sets and I can say "Omfg, I just ran a marathon and didn't die."
But.
Here's where I quote that asshole Murphy who came up with this: "If anything can go wrong, it will"
Here's what happened in short:
- A car had hit black ice and taken a tumble, blocking a large part of a very narrow country lane.
- The people couldn't get the car out in time. Window of sunlight gets shorter and shorter.
- They decide they can't continue the race because they don't want people running in dark country lanes.
- Race is cancelled.
(Nobody was hurt, so I have the freedom to bitch as explicitly as possible without hurting anyone's feelings)
What ARE the chances of ALLL that happening on a BRIGHT but cold Sunday morning? Shouldn't a person be in bed all wrapped up and warm? The only people who should be out on a Sunday morning are crazy morons like us who enjoy the pain of running loopy distances in negative temperatures! Everyone else should be sleeping or enjoying a nice Sunday breakfast with the family in the conservatory, munching on buttered toast or sipping on strawberry tea with honey - certainly not driving at high speeds through ice!
Fine, he may have been driving slowly and you can't really see black ice, but I am a bitter underexercised girl.
I can't help but wonder, as Carrie Bradshaw would, perhaps something bad would have happened had I run today.
I should just go out and buy myself a lottery ticket. After everything that has happened today, the chances of winning the lottery are certainly not that much slimmer.
And then. And then. That marathon I've been training for. I wake up at 7AM this morning, brush my teeth, put on my contacts, have a hearty oaty breakfast with the requisite mug of coffee (two tsp of Nescafe, one sugar, skimmed milk), put on my running clothes, thought "Goddammit I shall finish that 42km today whether I like it or not", chat to my not-cranky-for-the-first-time-in-the-morning flatmates who are most supportive and head out the door. To my surprise, it is a lovely day. Oh, how could anything go wrong? I will finish running 42km before the sun sets and I can say "Omfg, I just ran a marathon and didn't die."
But.
Here's where I quote that asshole Murphy who came up with this: "If anything can go wrong, it will"
Here's what happened in short:
- A car had hit black ice and taken a tumble, blocking a large part of a very narrow country lane.
- The people couldn't get the car out in time. Window of sunlight gets shorter and shorter.
- They decide they can't continue the race because they don't want people running in dark country lanes.
- Race is cancelled.
(Nobody was hurt, so I have the freedom to bitch as explicitly as possible without hurting anyone's feelings)
What ARE the chances of ALLL that happening on a BRIGHT but cold Sunday morning? Shouldn't a person be in bed all wrapped up and warm? The only people who should be out on a Sunday morning are crazy morons like us who enjoy the pain of running loopy distances in negative temperatures! Everyone else should be sleeping or enjoying a nice Sunday breakfast with the family in the conservatory, munching on buttered toast or sipping on strawberry tea with honey - certainly not driving at high speeds through ice!
Fine, he may have been driving slowly and you can't really see black ice, but I am a bitter underexercised girl.
I can't help but wonder, as Carrie Bradshaw would, perhaps something bad would have happened had I run today.
I should just go out and buy myself a lottery ticket. After everything that has happened today, the chances of winning the lottery are certainly not that much slimmer.
A Sedate but Yummy Wednesday
December 03, 2008 | Published in Alain Ducasse, Dorchester, food, good food, pompous, posh, pretentious | 1 comments
One steps foot into the Dorchester expecting nothing less than the sycophantic doorman and an all-too-keen bellboy. Not that I would know; it was all in the imagination from reading novels about dining at the Ritz and watching Bond films. Well, it really is like that in reality. One asks for Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester and is politely shown to a restaurant at the end of the corridor, past The Promenade, The Grill and The Bar. The room is spacious and alight with a soft glow that lulls the senses into a dreamy state. Yet, one can't help but talk about the finer things in life when dining in this place. Call it a lack of exposure on my part - a jakun if you will - but it's true :-)
The pompous maître d' greets us, asks us whether we'd like champagne with lunch. Bubbly in the afternoon? Thanks, but that would be far too decadent, sir. He then brings us a cute bowl of bread and cheese balls, each one dotted carefully with either paprika or black pepper.
These little babies are quite delectable. I am a carb junkie; what can I say?
Thereafter, we are presented with the chef's first delectable delight: the amuse-bouche - literally translated from the French as 'mouth amuser'. The chef knows no bounds with the amuse-bouche, as it is meant to whet the guest's appetite in anticipation of the coming meal. Well, it works! Today's amuse-bouche comes to us in the form of creamed broccoli with black olives garnished sparingly with slices of various raw vegetable. I gush at the taste of black olive combined with the broccoli cream and scoop every last drop pitifully. My bouche is now tres amused.
I have a sinful weakness for all things buttery, like most other gluttons. Note how much of the butter has been unmercifully knifed away (below). I could eat this on its own.
For starters, I order the 'Slightly Sauteed Shrimp'. It is an esoteric palette of tastes. The shrimp, together with some regular broccoli, peppers and finely cut carrot, is sitting on a bed of seemingly solidified (and quite salty) stock. It tickles my curious tastebuds and I am actually quite confused as what to make of it, so I dismiss it as 'fairly forgettable', if not a little overwhelming in texture and saltiness. The solidified salty jelly stuff does not do the shrimp justice.
By this point, the three of us are pleasantly surprised. We have satisfied our Tesco saturated tastebuds! But, oh, what's zis? More food! Ze other snotty French maître d' (hereafter known simply as Pompous) trots along and presents us with our main courses. I picked the 'Roast Veal with Creamy Spinach' because, you know, gym rats like me need my daily hit of protein and fat all at once.
One of us remarked that, yes, it does indeed resemble 'siew yoke'. It even tastes a bit like it, but after five mouthfuls, I am up to my neck in richness. The meat is delightfully plump and tender and when eaten with the correct sliver of fat, it can actually cause shivers of sheer pleasure. What I do not fancy, though, is how much the sauce tastes like it has a lot of Knorr's Beef Stock Concentrate in it i.e. the stuff I use for my gravy. Either the chef had a slip-up or Knorr really know their stuff.
And then comes the most favouritest part of the meal: dessert! After a rich main, I look forward to calming myself down with a tangy dessert. I get exactly that in this wonderful and most awesomest Vacherin served in the most cutest dessert bowl (I gotta get me one of these).
The colours are far more exciting than they look; it really resembles a mini Hawaiian luau. Underneath the mini meringue crusts, mango sorbet and coconut, lime and banana sorbet (which Pompous snidely dismisses as vanilla when I ask him what flavour it is and then comes back apologetically telling me it really is coconut, banana and lime. Tous est, eh, what you call it...c'est stupide??) is a titillatingly zingy passion fruit compote. I adore passion fruit with a zealous passion - no pun intended :) This is, by far, the pièce de résistance of the meal. We are not exactly stuffed, but it's okay. Food makes people happy. Food makes me happy, anyway.
'To the good life that we shall afford next time'.
The pompous maître d' greets us, asks us whether we'd like champagne with lunch. Bubbly in the afternoon? Thanks, but that would be far too decadent, sir. He then brings us a cute bowl of bread and cheese balls, each one dotted carefully with either paprika or black pepper.
These little babies are quite delectable. I am a carb junkie; what can I say?Thereafter, we are presented with the chef's first delectable delight: the amuse-bouche - literally translated from the French as 'mouth amuser'. The chef knows no bounds with the amuse-bouche, as it is meant to whet the guest's appetite in anticipation of the coming meal. Well, it works! Today's amuse-bouche comes to us in the form of creamed broccoli with black olives garnished sparingly with slices of various raw vegetable. I gush at the taste of black olive combined with the broccoli cream and scoop every last drop pitifully. My bouche is now tres amused.
I have a sinful weakness for all things buttery, like most other gluttons. Note how much of the butter has been unmercifully knifed away (below). I could eat this on its own.
For starters, I order the 'Slightly Sauteed Shrimp'. It is an esoteric palette of tastes. The shrimp, together with some regular broccoli, peppers and finely cut carrot, is sitting on a bed of seemingly solidified (and quite salty) stock. It tickles my curious tastebuds and I am actually quite confused as what to make of it, so I dismiss it as 'fairly forgettable', if not a little overwhelming in texture and saltiness. The solidified salty jelly stuff does not do the shrimp justice.
By this point, the three of us are pleasantly surprised. We have satisfied our Tesco saturated tastebuds! But, oh, what's zis? More food! Ze other snotty French maître d' (hereafter known simply as Pompous) trots along and presents us with our main courses. I picked the 'Roast Veal with Creamy Spinach' because, you know, gym rats like me need my daily hit of protein and fat all at once.
One of us remarked that, yes, it does indeed resemble 'siew yoke'. It even tastes a bit like it, but after five mouthfuls, I am up to my neck in richness. The meat is delightfully plump and tender and when eaten with the correct sliver of fat, it can actually cause shivers of sheer pleasure. What I do not fancy, though, is how much the sauce tastes like it has a lot of Knorr's Beef Stock Concentrate in it i.e. the stuff I use for my gravy. Either the chef had a slip-up or Knorr really know their stuff.And then comes the most favouritest part of the meal: dessert! After a rich main, I look forward to calming myself down with a tangy dessert. I get exactly that in this wonderful and most awesomest Vacherin served in the most cutest dessert bowl (I gotta get me one of these).
The colours are far more exciting than they look; it really resembles a mini Hawaiian luau. Underneath the mini meringue crusts, mango sorbet and coconut, lime and banana sorbet (which Pompous snidely dismisses as vanilla when I ask him what flavour it is and then comes back apologetically telling me it really is coconut, banana and lime. Tous est, eh, what you call it...c'est stupide??) is a titillatingly zingy passion fruit compote. I adore passion fruit with a zealous passion - no pun intended :) This is, by far, the pièce de résistance of the meal. We are not exactly stuffed, but it's okay. Food makes people happy. Food makes me happy, anyway.
'To the good life that we shall afford next time'.
The American Idol Debut
November 27, 2008 | Published in american idol, david archuleta, david cook, music | 0 comments
David Cook's new album (creatively called 'David Cook' in true manufactured pop style) is thoroughly dissatisfactory. It was akin to expecting margarine to taste like butter - but in truth, it still tastes like margarine. My ears are upset. I expected more from this man! What happened lah. I think he dated that skank and as a result, his musical abilities just went down the drain. His old album ('Analog Heart' - released before he got famous) is ten times better than this trashtastic trainwreck of an album. Guitar riffs do not always make songs sound good! Yes, it may seem sexy at first, but too much of it is a no-no. Why did us bimbotic fangirls expect so much of you, Mr Cook? Why can't we hear any more "Always Be My Baby"-type renditions? I played that song not less than 180 times (I have proof on my iTunes play count. Holy crap - it's 209!!!!) during exam season. WHY, MR COOK, WHY?! There is more variation in a box of sand than on your album. Dear, oh dear, as my old PE teacher would say. Every song sounds like "Light On" with the exception of a gut-wrenching "Permanent". There is nothing repeat-worthy on your album except this song. Now, "Permanent" is the kind of shit I want to hear from you, Mr Cook. Emo piano? Check. Surly romantic lyrics? Check. The resonant deep throated voice? Check. Will-make-girls-scream-uncontrollably-at-gig factor? Check. Now if only the other 13 tracks made me feel.
And what's with the eyeliner on your CD cover? Or was that photoshopped in to make you appeal to the My Chemical Romance crowd? Anyway, I'm too soft-hearted. I'm going to forgive this man for producing a bad first album. There's always a bad first album for everyone, with the exception of Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera perhaps.
David Archuleta (who has put on a bit of weight, incidentally) is a different story altogether. I never liked his sweet dulcet voice, but ... oh dear, I never thought I'd say this but his teenybopper "Hey, girl, I'm gonna getcha" tunes are quite addictive. Maybe it's a good thing he lost in the end because at this rate, he's going to be so much more famous than Mr Cook. I could just be thirteen in terms of musical taste, but whatever. I couldn't stop listening to "Crush" when it was first released; it is such a Water Fountain Romance song that will either make you smile or die a little inside from remembering the good ol' simple days. Sure, his songs have simple melodic beats that don't require very much talent to produce, but it's fine. To be honest, this album sounds a bit like Clay Aiken's first album which was irreprehensibly melodic and poppy in all its gayness.
Whatever it is, I don't think either of these albums have very much staying power. Sucks to be in the music industry these days!
Yay for Beyonce's 'Single Ladies'. Now that is catchy.
Is this the moment where I look you in the eye?
Forgive my broken promise that you'll never see me cry
And everything, it will surely change even if I tell you I won't go away today
Will you think that you're all alone
When no one's there to hold your hand?
And all you know seems so far away and everything is temporary
Rest your head
I'm permanent
Forgive my broken promise that you'll never see me cry
And everything, it will surely change even if I tell you I won't go away today
Will you think that you're all alone
When no one's there to hold your hand?
And all you know seems so far away and everything is temporary
Rest your head
I'm permanent
And what's with the eyeliner on your CD cover? Or was that photoshopped in to make you appeal to the My Chemical Romance crowd? Anyway, I'm too soft-hearted. I'm going to forgive this man for producing a bad first album. There's always a bad first album for everyone, with the exception of Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera perhaps.
David Archuleta (who has put on a bit of weight, incidentally) is a different story altogether. I never liked his sweet dulcet voice, but ... oh dear, I never thought I'd say this but his teenybopper "Hey, girl, I'm gonna getcha" tunes are quite addictive. Maybe it's a good thing he lost in the end because at this rate, he's going to be so much more famous than Mr Cook. I could just be thirteen in terms of musical taste, but whatever. I couldn't stop listening to "Crush" when it was first released; it is such a Water Fountain Romance song that will either make you smile or die a little inside from remembering the good ol' simple days. Sure, his songs have simple melodic beats that don't require very much talent to produce, but it's fine. To be honest, this album sounds a bit like Clay Aiken's first album which was irreprehensibly melodic and poppy in all its gayness.
Whatever it is, I don't think either of these albums have very much staying power. Sucks to be in the music industry these days!
Yay for Beyonce's 'Single Ladies'. Now that is catchy.
Grrl, I'm gonna bite ya
November 22, 2008 | Published in books, harry potter, twilight, vampires | 1 comments
Hopping onto the teenybopper bandwagon, I've sort of been flipping out quietly about how Twilight is being released way before Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. HP6 was meant to be released yesterday, but somehow got pushed all the bloody way back to summer 2009. Let's just say I'm a traditional girl and have always been a Harry Potter fangirl for as long as I can remember (Book Ronald Weasley <3!). Converting to the dark side (har har har) is not acceptable. Although Ms Rowling's plot-weaving skills may have deteriorated somewhat over the years and my level of cynicism gone up exponentially, Ms Meyer is just no match for the woman who has more money than the Queen. Ms Meyer begins her book in pretty much the same way Ms Rowling did with Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, using IGCSE English techniques to paint a dull, dreary (alliteration !!!) picture and all that, but it didn't reel me in. Perhaps I was young and fool enough to be drawn into the magical world of Harry and Ronald and Hermione, but those were good times! Writers will never run out of an audience so long as there is misery in this world and a willingness to escape into another dimension. I did - in all earnest - attempt to read the book. I took it down gingerly from my sixteen-year-old sister's dusty shelf and turned to the back. Isabella "Bella" Swan? Does anything scream more "I'm a 17th century harlot wearing white lace and red lipstick" than that? Fine. So Ms Meyer picked a bad name. I didn't let Harry James Potter or Frodo Baggins deter me from reading Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. But really. 2 pages and counting, I just put it down and went to have my cosy after-lunch nap. Why? I give you the following:
In the Olympic Peninsula of the northwest Washington state, a small town named Forks exists under a near constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old.
...
It was to Forks that I now exiled myself - an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks.
I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city.
There was something about the first two pages that turned me right off. I shouldn't judge so easily, but I DID make it beyond the cover. I think it was the size of the words too. They were the size of my face. Made me feel a bit dumb :-( I don't like books making me feel dumb, especially in the condescending sort of way; I'm too much of an egotistical girl for that. The clumsily stacked sentences don't appeal to me very much either. But anyway, I've read about this novel enough online to tell you what it's about. And by this point, you are wondering: why the hell is she going on about a book she doesn't believe in? I'm just procrastinating - I'm sorry there's no sexier answer.
In a nutshell:
Bella Swan is the new girl in school. Bella meets Hot 4eva-18 Vampyre Boy named Edward Cullen. Ed is drawn to scent of her flavourful blood. He falls in love with her. BUT THEN he avoids her because he's a fucking vegetarian vampire and doesn't want to suck her lifeless. She goes "ZOMG have I done something wrong? Is it me? Am I too fat?!! Does he want to have SEX with me???" etc. Enter Jake, a 4eva-16 vampire. He doesn't really care about being vegetarian, because Bella sure smells hella good to give up. He wants to suck on Bella's blood but Ed clearly can't let him do that because deep down underneath all that lust, Ed really is a *good* guy. Fight fight run run. Happy ending 4eva n eva with a PROM thrown in.
To quote Lily from HIMYM, "WOOOO!!!!!" (subtitle: "This book clearly sounds dead in all its undead glory")
If you want a really good vampire story, I suggest reading The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice. Homoeroticism, sexy writing and the baring of fangs! What more do you want?!
And you know what, Robert Pattinson and Kristin Stewart are NO match for Dan Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson. Seriously.
L-R: Guy with Seriously Greased Up Hair that Could Probably Use a Transylvanian Vampirean Accent too; Girl with fabulous Louboutins but dunno what she's wearing
In the Olympic Peninsula of the northwest Washington state, a small town named Forks exists under a near constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old.
...
It was to Forks that I now exiled myself - an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks.
I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city.
There was something about the first two pages that turned me right off. I shouldn't judge so easily, but I DID make it beyond the cover. I think it was the size of the words too. They were the size of my face. Made me feel a bit dumb :-( I don't like books making me feel dumb, especially in the condescending sort of way; I'm too much of an egotistical girl for that. The clumsily stacked sentences don't appeal to me very much either. But anyway, I've read about this novel enough online to tell you what it's about. And by this point, you are wondering: why the hell is she going on about a book she doesn't believe in? I'm just procrastinating - I'm sorry there's no sexier answer.
In a nutshell:
Bella Swan is the new girl in school. Bella meets Hot 4eva-18 Vampyre Boy named Edward Cullen. Ed is drawn to scent of her flavourful blood. He falls in love with her. BUT THEN he avoids her because he's a fucking vegetarian vampire and doesn't want to suck her lifeless. She goes "ZOMG have I done something wrong? Is it me? Am I too fat?!! Does he want to have SEX with me???" etc. Enter Jake, a 4eva-16 vampire. He doesn't really care about being vegetarian, because Bella sure smells hella good to give up. He wants to suck on Bella's blood but Ed clearly can't let him do that because deep down underneath all that lust, Ed really is a *good* guy. Fight fight run run. Happy ending 4eva n eva with a PROM thrown in.
To quote Lily from HIMYM, "WOOOO!!!!!" (subtitle: "This book clearly sounds dead in all its undead glory")
If you want a really good vampire story, I suggest reading The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice. Homoeroticism, sexy writing and the baring of fangs! What more do you want?!
And you know what, Robert Pattinson and Kristin Stewart are NO match for Dan Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson. Seriously.
L-R: Guy with Seriously Greased Up Hair that Could Probably Use a Transylvanian Vampirean Accent too; Girl with fabulous Louboutins but dunno what she's wearing
Need I say more?
Vanity Much?
November 20, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
To be frank, I don't care that much anymore about clothes. Is it being slovenly or being slightly less superficial? I throw on a pair of jeans, some crinkly old t-shirt and ratty leopard print Converses on and walk out the door with my diarrhoea green Eastpak every morning these days. Flats just don't do my poor feet good anymore, no matter how cute or bouncy they make my gait look. It's function and form >>> looks these days. My inbox is chock full with emails about the latest styles and clothes from ASOS, American Apparel, Urban Outfitters, even net-a-porter. But, I don't know. Some weird 'Ooohh I must have X from X brand' fuse has blown in my head. All I want right now is to have a functioning Matlab code - as horrifically geeky as that sounds - and to finish running 42km come 07/12. I am suffering from an uncomfortable calf cramp as I write this post; all that training had better not be in vain!
Yes, I am vain in the sense that I want to attain maximum fitness and maximum success in whatever I do. I am vain when I say "No, thanks" to eating out 90% of the time for fear Imight will ingest food doused in recycled grease. No, I'm not trying to be a size 8. I have come to terms with the fact that I never will be a bloody size 8 because that's the way I was made, but eating healthy most of the time (except for those times in school where those glorious bars of crunchy Kit Kats just call my name) keeps my sanity and self-esteem intact. A sense of control, if you will. No, I don't support starving yourself. That's just wrong. Food is far too good to give up. I mean, seriously:
Does the crumbly biscuit base make your knees weak? Does the luscious layer of cream spread greedily over the top of the whipped chocolate cheese make you want to die? Can you start to smell the scent of chocolate lightly mixed with a slight hint of coffee already?
Just go out and get a slice.
But just - for the love of God - don't eat it every single day.
Yes, I am vain in the sense that I want to attain maximum fitness and maximum success in whatever I do. I am vain when I say "No, thanks" to eating out 90% of the time for fear I
Does the crumbly biscuit base make your knees weak? Does the luscious layer of cream spread greedily over the top of the whipped chocolate cheese make you want to die? Can you start to smell the scent of chocolate lightly mixed with a slight hint of coffee already?Just go out and get a slice.
Take home message: You don't have to be vain to want to live healthily, but you'd definitely have to be healthy if you are vain. 'Cause, you know, you don't wanna look like a wrinkled old prune by the age of 31.
(Gosh, who knows?! It might be just a phase. I might crave a purple alligator skin wallet by tomorrow evening)
(Gosh, who knows?! It might be just a phase. I might crave a purple alligator skin wallet by tomorrow evening)
Rabid Vegans
November 06, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
People at PETA just irritate the hell out of me. So, Obama has just won the elections. How do the people at PETA put their spin on it? Read on to find out.
President-Elect Barack Obama has said, “I think how we treat our animals reflects how we treat each other. And it’s very important that we have a president who is mindful of the cruelty that is perpetrated on animals.” Because PETA is devoted to fighting animal abuse and recognizes the link between cruelty to animals and violence directed against human beings, the organization is very encouraged by this statement.
b) Not everyone has the money to buy fur. Not even if they wanted to. Srsly.
c) Mr Obama has better things to care about other than animals. For instance, how's about stopping people from killing one another in countries farrrr farr awaaay.
d) Mr Obama also - I'm quite sure - has better things to do than to go hunting with the National Rifle Association. How's about saving America from the next Great Depression and putting the damn country back on track politically and financially?
A bit out of context, but I've seen Paul McCartney, who is an avid supporter of PETA, do the following:
e) Wearing trainers with a suit as opposed to wearing leather shoes with a full suit. That's just moronic. Hall mirrors are there for a reason.
I don't mind vegetarians, really. Hell, I love vegetables as much as I love meat, but really, when you spout bullshit publicly and force your stupid beliefs on poor innocent meat-eaters, I'd say it's definitely time to pursue a balanced diet. For your own sake.
President-Elect Barack Obama has said, “I think how we treat our animals reflects how we treat each other. And it’s very important that we have a president who is mindful of the cruelty that is perpetrated on animals.” Because PETA is devoted to fighting animal abuse and recognizes the link between cruelty to animals and violence directed against human beings, the organization is very encouraged by this statement.
PETA is also pleased that Obama and his wife Michelle have announced that they will adopt a rescued dog for their daughters instead of patronizing a pet store or breeder. PETA opposes large-scale breeding facilities, known as “puppy mills,” as well as private breeders who bring puppies and kittens into the world while nearly 4 millions cats and dogs must be euthanized at the nation’s overcrowded animal shelters every year. PETA supports animal shelters and encourages all prospective companion animal guardians to visit their local animal shelter.
PETA was also encouraged to see that, unlike other Democratic and Republican presidential candidates in the past, Obama did not pander to the National Rifle Association and other pro-hunting organizations by heading into the woods and shooting defenceless animals.PETA looks forward to working with President-Elect Obama and the new administration to help make change happen for the millions of animals who suffer unnecessarily in this country. What’s next? If his stance on other animal issues is any indication, perhaps the next president will put a tofu chicken in every pot.”
a) Putting a tofu chicken in every pot?! Do they THINK that going vegetarian is so easy for most people? Vegetables are expensive! Even as an upper middle class kid I feel the pinch buying vegetables every other day. Buying meat is infinitely cheaper than buying vegetables and certainly a lot more filling! For instance, you can buy 8 satisfying meatballs at your local Tesco's for a quid as opposed to a tiny bag of broccoli and carrots for a £1.50. Bloody hell. Organic schmorganic! You wouldn't know if it's organic unless it came from your own garden!b) Not everyone has the money to buy fur. Not even if they wanted to. Srsly.
c) Mr Obama has better things to care about other than animals. For instance, how's about stopping people from killing one another in countries farrrr farr awaaay.
d) Mr Obama also - I'm quite sure - has better things to do than to go hunting with the National Rifle Association. How's about saving America from the next Great Depression and putting the damn country back on track politically and financially?
A bit out of context, but I've seen Paul McCartney, who is an avid supporter of PETA, do the following:
e) Wearing trainers with a suit as opposed to wearing leather shoes with a full suit. That's just moronic. Hall mirrors are there for a reason.
I don't mind vegetarians, really. Hell, I love vegetables as much as I love meat, but really, when you spout bullshit publicly and force your stupid beliefs on poor innocent meat-eaters, I'd say it's definitely time to pursue a balanced diet. For your own sake.
What do you know..
November 04, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
I barely clocked a four hour nap before waking up again to see "Obama wins elections in historic win" on my laptop screen. Needless to say, I am elated. Tired, aching and very sleepy, but very happy for Mr. Obama and that much more optimistic about the future of the world. It touches me to know that I actually witnessed history happening and that America was willing to let change happen. I always said that the world was going to end if Mr. McCain won, but now that I think about it..a black man just became the president of the United States. 143 years ago, he could very well have been a slave on the plantation of some wealthy cotton farmer in Atlanta. Well, Change has come. If a black man can be the president of the United States, now anything is truly possible.
Mr. Obama won out of sheer tenacity, of extraordinary focus and pure guts. He never once strayed from his goal in his two year campaign. He didn't do what Mr. McCain did - Mr. McCain childishly played taunting games on international television with Mr. Obama, calling him all manner of names. Mr. Obama played on the absence of feeling of hope for the Americans and gave it back to them. Mr. Obama is playing Richard Nixon's role to Harry Truman, Dwight Eisenhower, John Kennedy and Lyndon B Johnson's Vietnam. The paranoia that the Domino Theory would come true as communism swept its way through South East Asia perhaps is more palpable and believable than these so-called weapons of mass destruction that - funnily enough - nobody has found yet. Mr. Obama knows the catastrophe that the Bush administration has left him in and he certainly won't have a ball cleaning up. His administration will have to be transparent, fair and well thought out - everything the Bush administration was not.
I am not typically a fan of politics and I do not talk politics, but this time the little idealistic historian in me believed that something different would go down in history. And it has.
Mr. Obama won out of sheer tenacity, of extraordinary focus and pure guts. He never once strayed from his goal in his two year campaign. He didn't do what Mr. McCain did - Mr. McCain childishly played taunting games on international television with Mr. Obama, calling him all manner of names. Mr. Obama played on the absence of feeling of hope for the Americans and gave it back to them. Mr. Obama is playing Richard Nixon's role to Harry Truman, Dwight Eisenhower, John Kennedy and Lyndon B Johnson's Vietnam. The paranoia that the Domino Theory would come true as communism swept its way through South East Asia perhaps is more palpable and believable than these so-called weapons of mass destruction that - funnily enough - nobody has found yet. Mr. Obama knows the catastrophe that the Bush administration has left him in and he certainly won't have a ball cleaning up. His administration will have to be transparent, fair and well thought out - everything the Bush administration was not.
I am not typically a fan of politics and I do not talk politics, but this time the little idealistic historian in me believed that something different would go down in history. And it has.
Reversing Realpolitik in the Realworld
November 03, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
It's the 4th of November tomorrow. Shame on you if you think it's just another day. It's not.
I know I'm not American, not even close, but I'd be a fool to say I didn't care about the future of America because let's face it - the future of America affects every damn country on this planet, however loath we are to admit it. Having said that, I admit that I am fairly apathetic about Malaysian politics, simply because I've not seen someone worth caring about anywhere on the political arena. We have politicians getting stabbed in front of their clinics, for crying out loud. We have politicians being charged for sodomy. You know, buttsxe. I don't know if you've noticed, but other countries are laughing at us. We look like a gang of schoolchildren at a black and white affair.
Ooh, I digress.
This year, however, in January 2008, the fight between Senator Obama and Senator Clinton grabbed my attention. Could it be time for a Change? I wasn't old enough to be angry about politics when George W came into power twice, but naturally, as time progresses one observes the repercussions of George W's actions and fights the urge to throw a very sharp stick right into his chest. Perhaps through his unsightly ears. Mr Obama understands the need for Americans and the world to see some sort of change in foreign policy.
And what does the John McCain camp know? How to hire a woman like Sarah Palin to become your running mate? A right hand? To do WHAT exactly? Seriously, darling, what does Sarah Palin know? She doesn't even know the current Prime Minister of Canada. A DJ from a Canadian radio station prank called her this morning and claimed to be Nicolas Sarkozy wanting to interview her allll the way from France. Being the genius with the 180 IQ, she gleefully picked up the phone and said "Oh hiiii how are youuuuu" in that ingratiating pimply-kid-trying-to-oomph-her-grades-up-by-being-uber-nice-to-her-PE-teacher tone and proceeded to answer the fellow's questions with all sorts of amusing answers. How anyone can respect her or vote for her after that is absolutely beyond me. For a celebrity, it's fine to look like a moron, because, hey, that's your fucking job, no? Entertain, be slutty and prosper! For a vice-presidential candidate, however...well, perhaps not. It's one thing to blow $150,000 on "campaign accessories", but another to look like a total fool in front of 250 million people. Actually, I'm not sure which way round that sentence is meant to be.
Then you have Barack Obama and Joe Biden. Both academically sound, both incredibly intelligent people who have proven to focus on practical and sound policies. Obama wants to stop all this warmongering by reducing nuclear stockpile, not "weaponizing" space and would probably engage in presidential diplomatic negotiations before actually whacking the crap out of people, unlike some American presidents we so know and love. Biden, unlike Ms Palin, has been a member of the US Senate Committee on Foreign Relations for the longest time. I assume he would know who the current Prime Minster of Canada is and what Nicolas Sarkozy would do in his free time. 'Nuff said.
Having said all that, I can only hope that there are people out there taking this election seriously and that it is certainly NOT funny voting for a party with that woman on the team. McCain is an old man. His name is a brand of frozen potato chips in this country and one of those bags of chips will certainly outfreeze him, trust me.
This is the first time I'm giving a rat's ass about the political conditions of the world - it'd better turn out good.
I know I'm not American, not even close, but I'd be a fool to say I didn't care about the future of America because let's face it - the future of America affects every damn country on this planet, however loath we are to admit it. Having said that, I admit that I am fairly apathetic about Malaysian politics, simply because I've not seen someone worth caring about anywhere on the political arena. We have politicians getting stabbed in front of their clinics, for crying out loud. We have politicians being charged for sodomy. You know, buttsxe. I don't know if you've noticed, but other countries are laughing at us. We look like a gang of schoolchildren at a black and white affair.
Ooh, I digress.
This year, however, in January 2008, the fight between Senator Obama and Senator Clinton grabbed my attention. Could it be time for a Change? I wasn't old enough to be angry about politics when George W came into power twice, but naturally, as time progresses one observes the repercussions of George W's actions and fights the urge to throw a very sharp stick right into his chest. Perhaps through his unsightly ears. Mr Obama understands the need for Americans and the world to see some sort of change in foreign policy.
And what does the John McCain camp know? How to hire a woman like Sarah Palin to become your running mate? A right hand? To do WHAT exactly? Seriously, darling, what does Sarah Palin know? She doesn't even know the current Prime Minister of Canada. A DJ from a Canadian radio station prank called her this morning and claimed to be Nicolas Sarkozy wanting to interview her allll the way from France. Being the genius with the 180 IQ, she gleefully picked up the phone and said "Oh hiiii how are youuuuu" in that ingratiating pimply-kid-trying-to-oomph-her-grades-up-by-being-uber-nice-to-her-PE-teacher tone and proceeded to answer the fellow's questions with all sorts of amusing answers. How anyone can respect her or vote for her after that is absolutely beyond me. For a celebrity, it's fine to look like a moron, because, hey, that's your fucking job, no? Entertain, be slutty and prosper! For a vice-presidential candidate, however...well, perhaps not. It's one thing to blow $150,000 on "campaign accessories", but another to look like a total fool in front of 250 million people. Actually, I'm not sure which way round that sentence is meant to be.
Then you have Barack Obama and Joe Biden. Both academically sound, both incredibly intelligent people who have proven to focus on practical and sound policies. Obama wants to stop all this warmongering by reducing nuclear stockpile, not "weaponizing" space and would probably engage in presidential diplomatic negotiations before actually whacking the crap out of people, unlike some American presidents we so know and love. Biden, unlike Ms Palin, has been a member of the US Senate Committee on Foreign Relations for the longest time. I assume he would know who the current Prime Minster of Canada is and what Nicolas Sarkozy would do in his free time. 'Nuff said.
Having said all that, I can only hope that there are people out there taking this election seriously and that it is certainly NOT funny voting for a party with that woman on the team. McCain is an old man. His name is a brand of frozen potato chips in this country and one of those bags of chips will certainly outfreeze him, trust me.
This is the first time I'm giving a rat's ass about the political conditions of the world - it'd better turn out good.
Afternoon Tea
October 25, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
I've forgotten how easy it is to love the taste of butter and blueberry jam slathered generously over a fluffy scotch pancake.
The Fire Feels Divine
October 24, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
- I miss Incubus. I would kill to see them live again, not the horror that is Fall Out Boy. They really can't play live. God bless Brandon Boyd.
- My body is rather unhappy; I am in much pain from running long distances in the autumn cold. I have been eating like an unhappy swine to comfort said body. Simple white processed carbohydrates will always make a girl happy.
- My body is rather unhappy; I am in much pain from running long distances in the autumn cold. I have been eating like an unhappy swine to comfort said body. Simple white processed carbohydrates will always make a girl happy.
Is Not A Happy Camper
October 14, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
I am extremely upset at the fact that despite being a supposed engineer with programming knowledge and having dealt with computers since the age of eight, I am still unable to guide myself around the convoluted world of Hyper Text Markup Language otherwise known as HTML. I can only change the colours of my blog without Blogger going all pissy at me. Good God.
My Body Is a Pincushion
October 12, 2008 | Published in | 1 comments
New piercing in the rook region of the ear (the smaller ring, not the large one). It doesn't look too nasty there in the photo, but it is actually bleeding like a bitch as I type up this post. TMI? Yeah, thought so. As if there weren't already enough holes in my heart, right. Haha.
I don't know why I've always been so drawn to piercings. I've had two piercings in my ear since the age of ten or something. Really young. I really am one of those people whom "normal" people will ask, "Man, I can't understand you" or "WHY do you do that to yourself?". There really is no answer to that question - I just DO.
I'm A Little Bit Older and Wiser Now, Mummy
October 08, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
A long rehabilitative summer is over. Fun in the Malaysian, Singaporean and Grecian sun. I am several shades darker and no longer held by flimsy emotional tape - although some people who know me may beg to differ. To quote Bridget Jones, queen of floundering middle-aged women in both the non-fictional and fictional world, "it is a known fact that when one area of your life goes well, another falls spectacularly apart".
The time has come to return to poring through scientific papers from Nature and the same old shiteous routine. I wander around college looking at these first years and think to myself, "Oh, those were the days when I didn't have to think about finding internships and think of group projects and all these other not-so-little so-called pleasantries that life springs upon us". I often gaze at them with a spoonful of envy; I know that they will eventually morph into one of us old cronies who spends more time in the computer lab than at home. Well, I suppose every nerdling has its day.
But you know, getting older isn't such a bad thing. Sure, you'd spend quite a lot of time looking at old photos and thinking to yourself, "What the fuck have I done with my teenage years??" Still. That's okay. Because this is where the rest of your life begins.
The time has come to return to poring through scientific papers from Nature and the same old shiteous routine. I wander around college looking at these first years and think to myself, "Oh, those were the days when I didn't have to think about finding internships and think of group projects and all these other not-so-little so-called pleasantries that life springs upon us". I often gaze at them with a spoonful of envy; I know that they will eventually morph into one of us old cronies who spends more time in the computer lab than at home. Well, I suppose every nerdling has its day.
But you know, getting older isn't such a bad thing. Sure, you'd spend quite a lot of time looking at old photos and thinking to yourself, "What the fuck have I done with my teenage years??" Still. That's okay. Because this is where the rest of your life begins.
Karma
September 26, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
What goes around comes back the fuck around.
Try and see.
Try and see.
Musings
September 24, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
It struck me as I was robotically doing my step class this morning that I was surrounded purely by middle-aged women - most with unsightly flab though there were some who looked younger than their years. This fact brought on a rather striking revelation: that someday I will grow old and become one of these women who obsess about how to defy old age and the indefatigable issue of Chicken Wing Skin and Cellulite. Not that I don't already obsess about my body image by hitting the gym every single fucking day except on weekends and even bringing my sneakers to the beach so that I can wake up faithfully at 7.45am and run as fast as the wind can bear me.
In any case, I shall expand upon this disappointing epiphany. There are several things that could happen to me. I could:
a) Work really hard in my youth, accumulate my wealth, spend my savings on luxury items and a gym membership and a personal chef and grow old and die alone but rich in a penthouse in New York (without any pets because I am not very fond of animals). (Quite likely)
b) Not be so lucky in my youth, marry a fuckface whom I despise, bear his children and spend his money on a gym membership and luxury items and the children's education. Throw in a younger boy for good measure. (Not likely)
c) Just wither away after graduating and spend my time trying to pen unsuccessful novels and anthologies about the prospects of spending the rest of my life with an ill cat while working part time at the nearest Starbucks joint and stealing more than one venti skinny extra shot hazelnut latte a day. (Perhaps..)
d) Other.
I am really hoping for option D.
Ta.
In any case, I shall expand upon this disappointing epiphany. There are several things that could happen to me. I could:
a) Work really hard in my youth, accumulate my wealth, spend my savings on luxury items and a gym membership and a personal chef and grow old and die alone but rich in a penthouse in New York (without any pets because I am not very fond of animals). (Quite likely)
b) Not be so lucky in my youth, marry a fuckface whom I despise, bear his children and spend his money on a gym membership and luxury items and the children's education. Throw in a younger boy for good measure. (Not likely)
c) Just wither away after graduating and spend my time trying to pen unsuccessful novels and anthologies about the prospects of spending the rest of my life with an ill cat while working part time at the nearest Starbucks joint and stealing more than one venti skinny extra shot hazelnut latte a day. (Perhaps..)
d) Other.
I am really hoping for option D.
Ta.
Food, Glorious Food
August 17, 2008 | Published in | 1 comments
I've had this lifelong dream of getting a lovely toned stomach with two lines running down the middle for as long as I can remember. Yeah, sure I exercise like a dog four times a week - weights, yoga, BodyPump, running....anything as long as I sweat! You'd expect me to be as thin as sin and as fit as one of those Olympian runners if you didn't know me better.
But. No. It ain't happening. Why? Because I can't give up food. I love food. I live to eat. Hell, even as I write this I have a container of nuts and raisins next to me. Yeah, I get my guilty days when I feel as though I've eaten just over enough to feed the Royal Navy and then I live off salads for the next couple of meals. But it ends there. After purgatory, I revert back to my old self and wonder what to cook for dinner again. Chicken curry? Fried noodles? Beef stew? Perhaps try a new restaurant? Food, food, food. There are so many things to eat!! I don't care if I sound like a glutton right now.
If people can make a living out of studying cortical spreading depressions in the brain, cooking actually seems to be a brilliant career choice. There is something thrilling about bustling about in the kitchen and an even greater thrill when you look at the fruits of your labour after twenty minutes. Cooking is not difficult at all, but it requires passion - as hackneyed and overused as that bloody phrase sounds. But like most hackneyed sayings, it's followed by the obligatory "It's true!" You need lots and lots of enthusiasm if you want people to remember the flavours of your food. For instance, I've realized over this academic year that my curry varied with different moods. I would make curry during my exam period, and it would come out watery and incredibly bland. Kind of like how I was feeling at the time. And then when I wasn't so stressed, it came out creamy and pedas enough to numb your tastebuds just the way I wanted it to. If you cook half-heartedly, your food will taste like shit. Frankly.
Anyway. Er. Basically...I'm just wondering casually in a non-regretful way now why I didn't choose to go to cooking school instead. Hm. Gosh, are my thoughts disjointed.
See, all this sort of came about after watching Gordon Ramsay on TV yelling non-stop at the poor broke bastard on Kitchen Nightmares. I would make this post a lot cleverer but I'm just talking out of my bum as usual.
Night.
But. No. It ain't happening. Why? Because I can't give up food. I love food. I live to eat. Hell, even as I write this I have a container of nuts and raisins next to me. Yeah, I get my guilty days when I feel as though I've eaten just over enough to feed the Royal Navy and then I live off salads for the next couple of meals. But it ends there. After purgatory, I revert back to my old self and wonder what to cook for dinner again. Chicken curry? Fried noodles? Beef stew? Perhaps try a new restaurant? Food, food, food. There are so many things to eat!! I don't care if I sound like a glutton right now.
If people can make a living out of studying cortical spreading depressions in the brain, cooking actually seems to be a brilliant career choice. There is something thrilling about bustling about in the kitchen and an even greater thrill when you look at the fruits of your labour after twenty minutes. Cooking is not difficult at all, but it requires passion - as hackneyed and overused as that bloody phrase sounds. But like most hackneyed sayings, it's followed by the obligatory "It's true!" You need lots and lots of enthusiasm if you want people to remember the flavours of your food. For instance, I've realized over this academic year that my curry varied with different moods. I would make curry during my exam period, and it would come out watery and incredibly bland. Kind of like how I was feeling at the time. And then when I wasn't so stressed, it came out creamy and pedas enough to numb your tastebuds just the way I wanted it to. If you cook half-heartedly, your food will taste like shit. Frankly.
Anyway. Er. Basically...I'm just wondering casually in a non-regretful way now why I didn't choose to go to cooking school instead. Hm. Gosh, are my thoughts disjointed.
See, all this sort of came about after watching Gordon Ramsay on TV yelling non-stop at the poor broke bastard on Kitchen Nightmares. I would make this post a lot cleverer but I'm just talking out of my bum as usual.
Night.
Sports Jabber
August 16, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
Watching the marathon live at 2AM makes me want to run for my life. I might just. This Romanian woman is amazing. She's whizzed past right ahead; she's all alone! Watching Michael Phelps power through water also makes me want to swim a lot faster once my navel piercing heals over. Hurray for healthy living!
And who knew that Malaysian sports would finally see the golden light of day at the summer Olympics? Finally! Malaysia boleh, for once? Please LAH, Mr Lee!
And who knew that Malaysian sports would finally see the golden light of day at the summer Olympics? Finally! Malaysia boleh, for once? Please LAH, Mr Lee!
Statistically Speaking
| Published in | 0 comments
As I sit here, wiping the sleep from my eyes, I wonder what the chances of me going out and bumping into someone I know. Used to know. Same difference. Statistically speaking, probably quite low. But there are some days when you feel that gods of Chance are at work. What Twoface said in Batman - that there is no God, only Chance - is probably quite untrue. Why? If Chance can be equated to God, then surely there must be an antithesis to Chance. Which is what? The gods of Pre-Determination? Fate, then, surely? Some people believe you can determine your own fate, whereas others just let Fate take its course. Hah. Well. Me. I think Fate and Chance only come into play when you've done everything right and somehow everything else manages to fuck up for no rhyme or reason. Then only do you question the existence of such factors. When everything is going swell, nobody questions God or Fate or Chance. Hardly anyone counts their blessings. Maybe that's something everyone should aim toward, you know? Just so you won't feel like a loser when statistics don't favour you.
Cracking Lips
August 12, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
It's been raining incessantly for the past two weeks. This is not summer. I can't wear my skimpy dresses or sunglasses. Thank goodness I didn't buy new sunnies. The antithesis to the gods of materialism have saved me. Well, not really. But nobody else has to know.
The shade is a tool, a device, a saviour
See, I try and look up to the sky
But my eyes burn
The shade is a tool, a device, a saviour
See, I try and look up to the sky
But my eyes burn
Refraction in the Sky.
August 10, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
There was a rainbow in the sky as I walked out after the rain today. It looked nascent and pretty. When you walk away, the rainbow follows.
Sometimes all you need is a good support system and a rainbow to get through to 20 years.
And Family Guy.
Here's to the next one hundred, baby.
I'm not a teenager anymore. Not that I've really ever felt like one to begin with.
Sometimes all you need is a good support system and a rainbow to get through to 20 years.
And Family Guy.
Here's to the next one hundred, baby.
I'm not a teenager anymore. Not that I've really ever felt like one to begin with.
Temporary Satiation
August 06, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
The simple things in life that bring about a transient state of euphoria
- Crackhead friends
- Cake
- Sex and the City
- Photos from my fugly but adorable Instax Mini 7 camera
- Showering after sweating like a pig at the gym
- Stalking overpriced handbags online
- Thinking about buying said overpriced handbags
- Piercings
- Quirky jewellery
- Rain
- Family Guy
- Pink leather notebooks
- Crackhead friends
- Cake
- Sex and the City
- Photos from my fugly but adorable Instax Mini 7 camera
- Showering after sweating like a pig at the gym
- Stalking overpriced handbags online
- Thinking about buying said overpriced handbags
- Piercings
- Quirky jewellery
- Rain
- Family Guy
- Pink leather notebooks
A Week In Pictures
July 15, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
Because I have never posted a row of pictures and commented on them. Briefly.
Legoland, Windsor
Stuffing face with sushi
Alicia KeysOnce In A Purple Sky
July 03, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
I think there's only one place I can call home. It's not a person, it's not London, it's home, where all my sacred dreams were born and fears were allayed. Where everything will become magically okay again.I want to go home.
Avril Lavigne Had A Point
June 27, 2008 | Published in | 0 comments
Little girls shouldn't be taught to believe in fairy tales. Fairy tales are like drugs. Once you start believing, you don't stop. Regardless of how many pieces the heart is in, we will always pray and hope that some charming man will rescue us from a prison cell labelled "Depressed, Single and Lonely". Regardless of how many female empowerment songs we hear on the radio. Because we've been fucking conditioned to believe that we need someone to carry on with our daily lives, that living alone is very much frowned upon. "Oh you're going to die an old maid!". "Awwww, your time will come". "No man in your life? That's okay...one will come soon enough". Of course there are the occasional "SINGLEDOM IS AWESOME" and "Fuck that, let's go party" comments. However, most of these comments are perpetuated by people who have found some sort of stability in their lives with another person - a soulmate, if you will (if that even exists). I suppose to some singledom is a choice, but for the most part, it really isn't. I love how people who choose to be single are more often than not the most attractive ones. Ugly girls don't have choices in life. Pretty girls do. Poor people don't have choices. Rich people do. Whoever said we live in a classless society is obviously rich, intelligent and drop dead attractive. I have digressed.
I've been a cynic for as long as I remember, but I still do believe in happy endings. Though I must confess that most happy endings are bittersweet (but humans don't give a fuck - all that matters is getting the girl/man because we're selfish like that). Take The Little Mermaid. Ariel got the man of her dreams and became a human, but she left an entire world she'd known for sixteen years and a father who loved her to no end behind. I would think that she would be plagued by some sort of guilt trip every now and then. I would be. Then again, I'm no princess. I'm an angry bitter teenager with various addictions and hobbies that don't include singing and seeing the best in others.
I'll just shop more because in the wise words of that old skankwhore Fergie, "a Prada dress never broke my heart before".
I've been a cynic for as long as I remember, but I still do believe in happy endings. Though I must confess that most happy endings are bittersweet (but humans don't give a fuck - all that matters is getting the girl/man because we're selfish like that). Take The Little Mermaid. Ariel got the man of her dreams and became a human, but she left an entire world she'd known for sixteen years and a father who loved her to no end behind. I would think that she would be plagued by some sort of guilt trip every now and then. I would be. Then again, I'm no princess. I'm an angry bitter teenager with various addictions and hobbies that don't include singing and seeing the best in others.
I'll just shop more because in the wise words of that old skankwhore Fergie, "a Prada dress never broke my heart before".
Chasing Waves
April 29, 2008 | Published in tsunami dreams | 0 comments
I dream about tsunamis rather often. I don't think it's sheer coincidence that I dream about these waves washing over me. I don't drown, because they say you can't ever die in a dream (although I do recall dying but not really going anywhere pivotal or of special Significance). In any case, I usually climb to higher ground, say, a house on a hillside (which was last night's refuge). Cowardice much? Other times, I simply watch the onslaught of water beckon slowly towards my direction. Once, a tsunami hit New York City whilst I was walking along the streets, even though I have never once set foot in the US. This wave was probably the most frightening one, but I don't recall being frightened. In fact, last night's tsunami arising out of the ocean was by far the most shock inducing. But that might have been because I was not alone; my grandparents were also around.
Thus, I decided to Google "tsunami dreams". Being an ex-English Literature student, I can easily tell you that "waves symbolise the feeling of being tremendously overwhelmed" and that "the waves are reminiscent of repressed emotions". Funnily enough, "Dream Dictionaries" will tell you that too.
In waking life tsunamis occur when an earthquake or some other violent action takes place thereby lifting the sea up which in turn creates a gigantic wave that causes much devastation when it comes ashore. In dream life, a tsunami may symbolize the same feeling--a feeling of being overwhelmed by a huge, powerful force beyond your control. Dreaming of a tsunami can be a sign that you are feeling emotionally overwhelmed or emotional upheaval. Look at your life and see if there is a situation that feels overpowering.
It's really not a wonder why I'm over-bloody-whelmed. There is, also, another meaning to tsunami dreams:
According to Carl Jung, a tsunami dream is very significant. It is one of those great “archetypal” dreams, meaning symbols which are universal across all cultures. A tsunami is supposed to be a symbol of some great spiritual change, the washing away of the old and the beginnings of new growth.
I must be still waiting for my spiritual awakening. Don't we all need one right now.
Anyway. To work, to work.
Thus, I decided to Google "tsunami dreams". Being an ex-English Literature student, I can easily tell you that "waves symbolise the feeling of being tremendously overwhelmed" and that "the waves are reminiscent of repressed emotions". Funnily enough, "Dream Dictionaries" will tell you that too.
In waking life tsunamis occur when an earthquake or some other violent action takes place thereby lifting the sea up which in turn creates a gigantic wave that causes much devastation when it comes ashore. In dream life, a tsunami may symbolize the same feeling--a feeling of being overwhelmed by a huge, powerful force beyond your control. Dreaming of a tsunami can be a sign that you are feeling emotionally overwhelmed or emotional upheaval. Look at your life and see if there is a situation that feels overpowering.
It's really not a wonder why I'm over-bloody-whelmed. There is, also, another meaning to tsunami dreams:
According to Carl Jung, a tsunami dream is very significant. It is one of those great “archetypal” dreams, meaning symbols which are universal across all cultures. A tsunami is supposed to be a symbol of some great spiritual change, the washing away of the old and the beginnings of new growth.
I must be still waiting for my spiritual awakening. Don't we all need one right now.
Anyway. To work, to work.
Arr...henius
April 21, 2008 | Published in gawr | 0 comments
It's THAT time of the year again!!!!
Such is the revelry and joy that my life continues to be peppered with every single day. I am joined by Mssrs Piles-and-Piles-Of-Notes and Impending-Very-Bad-Fever-As-You-Can-Tell-By-Unhinged-Nature-of-Post.
Such is the revelry and joy that my life continues to be peppered with every single day. I am joined by Mssrs Piles-and-Piles-Of-Notes and Impending-Very-Bad-Fever-As-You-Can-Tell-By-Unhinged-Nature-of-Post.
Dear World
March 16, 2008 | Published in | 2 comments
People ought to be that much more sensitive. And unselfish.
To whoever is reading this, PLEASE fucking think about what you say and do next time.
To whoever is reading this, PLEASE fucking think about what you say and do next time.
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