Singapore's 'bird market'

This is a strange sort of article on Singapore. There is some social commentary there, but it's as if the themes crisscross and interweave and end nowhere except in a sort of exotic-Zen-transcendental-urban-traditional-dreamscape of Singapore... I could imagine this being made into one of those arty short films.

the weather

They say it's going to be a cold winter. I'll be honest, I can't actually see myself surviving this.

I can hear the wind actually howling outside my window now. Sigh.

Halloween

For Halloween (apart for the black shirt, which I'm guessing doesn't count), my only costume was my perfume, Mandragore, which is supposed to have mandrake somewhere in it.

I don't think anyone noticed though. Sighz.

Possibly my most embarrassing moment in the past 6 months

I was just about to go out to do my laundry when this insect the size of my palm, and with ONLY FOUR LEGS!!!! (how freaky is that????) flew into my room and perched on the wall above my bed.

I opened my door and asked it to leave, I switched off the lights, I even threw a ball of paper at it (a few times!). Finally, determined to get it out of my room dead or alive (the insect, not me), I went downstairs to the broom cupboard to get a broom (duh). I marched back up, then stopped and stared for a long moment at the insect.

Then the silliness of glaring at an insect, holding a broom, getting ready to wage WWIII hit me, and I started laughing. Then I realised I didn't actually dare to whack it with the broom, and then wished that LSB was here to help me get rid of it, and then I was laughing AND crying.

And that was how my housemate found me when she came out to investigate the source of the crazy giggles. I was entirely speechless, so I just pointed at the ridiculous insect (still calmly perched on my wall dammit!). She promptly went down to fetch one of the guys (who looked pretty annoyed) to pick it up with some tissue. I could only manage a choked expression of gratitude, I'm afraid.

If it only had 4 legs, was it even an insect?

Oh happy day!

Never mind the totally miserable bit of work I submitted to my supervisor (along with a miserable email that I thoroughly regret now). As I said, I do stupid things, so never mind that for now.

It's been amazingly sunny for Aber. I've become something of a sun fiend because seriously, I need to warm my fingers & toes. I woke early this morning to work, and ended up sitting and typing on the window ledge (which had the biggest patch of sunlight I could find.) (Also, I'm getting quite enamoured of sitting on window ledges.) Incidentally, waking up early in the morning (for me that's about 7am-ish) should always be accompanied by this, what I call 'the slowly realizing that oh shit I am conscious music':



That should always be followed by this bit of music, the 'let's build up momentum and overcome inertia - but I'm sleepy - ok let's try again - music':



Anyway, I sent my violin for repairs (for those of you in the know, in the end I didn't have to venture into the Welsh forests since the guy asked me to leave it at a music shop in town), and after that I was supposed to buy groceries, but oh, the sea... it was sunny and the sea was so pretty and blue today that I couldn't resist buying an ice-cream cone and walking on the beach (for the 1st time since coming here!). It's a rather pebbly beach, but still so pretty! No driftwood anywhere, and it's as if the sea goes on forever (well until it hits Ireland anyway), and it's miles and miles of clear, blue water (really, the water is completely clear, I guess cos there's no sand or mud). Seagulls flying far away and minimal crowd except for a few tots playing with the water, the sea shimmering in the sun, a huge expanse of clear blue sky... Ah I'm rather in love with the seafront right now.

Cat-napping

Funny how after that really grumpy post, I had a moment of such absolute bliss. (In case you're wondering, I have an assignment due today, which explains the overwhelming blog presence.)

It's a sunny day (!!!!!) in Aberystwyth and there's a little spot of sun on the window ledge next to my table, on which I love to rest me poor achin' head. I'd sprayed a bit of En Mediterranee, and decided to nap a bit in that precious spot of sun. Such a blissful moment... the beautiful beautiful scent of tobacco & grass & soil & citrus mixed with the oily smell of cooking from downstairs and a faint whiff of fresh cow dung, all warmed by the lovely lovely sun, bumblebees buzzing outside my window, and a slight chill from the air outside, plus Beethoven's Spring Sonata on the radio...

Come to think of it, I did classify En Mediterranee as a close-to-the-sea countryside scent, though I didn't think of that when I decided to bring it along. I do love the sun (in moderate amounts), and I do love lazy luxurious habits like napping in the sun. Ah I'm a lazy bum.

What I miss

Ok, this is going to be my 'homesickness' post that you all knew was coming up anyway.

Apart from the usual 'I miss my family/bf' rant, I also miss several things:

1. I miss my music dammit. I can't play piano OR violin in my room. I can't seem to think without my music.

2. I miss departmental stores where I can get my perfume fix.

3. I miss taking my laptop out to a cafe to study/read/surf the internet. And I miss sitting at a cafe and reading till late at night.

4. I miss regular public transport and not having to walk till my knees go bust.

5. I miss the freedom to be myself at home. There're always 'strangers' (i.e. my housemates) around, and while they're nice enough, I just feel a bit inhibited by the presence of 'other people' 24/7, ya know? I feel as if I'm a bit of a prisoner in my own house.

?!?!?!

Coming back from class this afternoon, I saw a herd of cows in the field behind the house.

Wtf?!?!?!

And then found out from a friend that there's a farm behind our residence.

Yes people, there are cows behind my house. Real life cows.

And yes, I took a nap just now and woke to the sound of cows mooing. Incidentally, the sound of mooing is a lot less domestic / tranquil than you might imagine. It comes out more as a desperate growl emanating from the depths of an animal-slave destined for the steak plate. (By the way, the boyfriend recently accused me of being overly dramatic. Seriously? Me?)

And yes, I came out to do my laundry and the cows looked menacingly at me and I was half-afraid they'd charge the very flimsy looking wire fence (!!!!!) and trample me to death and go off snorting 'Medium rare indeed!'. Cows are big animals. Someone should install a high security fence, probably something along the lines of those used in Jurassic Park, but without the constant malfunctions. The current fence wouldn't stop a goat.

And yes, I read an article on BBC before coming to Wales on precisely this tragic manner of death (the trampling, not the cooking).

I think I might be afraid of cows.

Some pictures

Train to Devil's Bridge



I suppose this is Devil's Bridge? We didn't spend a lot of time here...



Dangerous looking rocks & water



View from my room



View of town & sea from bridge



Seafront!



Old College, by the sea.



Castle ruins & some monument.



National library.



View from National library.



Another view from National Library.

"Heteroscedasticity"

... was the word I didn't understand in an article I was reading today. Was hoping it'd be something cool, but checked wikipedia and turns out it's some statistics thing. Blah.

Just an update

In case any of you were wondering, yes I'm already in Aber aka Abby to differentiate from birthplace. For some reason, the UK doesn't feel all that foreign to me. Maybe it's because they all speak English, but I don't really feel like I'm away from home. Perhaps it's also because I'm so familiar with all the names, having imbibed large amounts of English literature / literature drawing on Welsh mythology that I almost feel as if I was here a long time ago, and have merely forgotten all about it.

Btw, no pictures at the moment, but Abby is a very small town (only 20k people!), but is one of those picturesque ones. There're also tonnes of Chinese takeaways, pubs & healthfood stores. I was very relieved to find that it's much cheaper than London (I almost didn't dare to eat anything in London, just in case I accidentally bankrupted myself, my family, and half of Singapore.)

In any case, I'm still trying to set up my internet (am currently using university's computer room), so I'm not on MSN or anything like that. You guys can send me emails, I shall check as frequently as I can.

Things to remember while falling from a very high place

1. "A freely falling observer has every reason to consider himself to be in a state of inertial motion." - Peter Coles, Cosmology: A Very Short Introduction, p.20

2. Scream "F***ing scientists & their f***ing experiments!!!!!!!!!!!" (note to self: will probably come out as 'AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!')

In little pieces

Lavondyss (sequel to Mythago Wood) is mind-screwy.

Why does it take me 4hrs to write a harmless email? It's just 2 lines! I have become totally paranoid. I fiddled endlessly with the email and ended up taking a really deep breath & sending out the original version.

What is wrong with me???? I remember the days when I'd shoot emails to friends & lecturers alike with nary a second thought.

I totally understand LSB *gives LSB commiserating pats on back* when he says that you need to be distracted from work in order to do work. That's the story of my life.

I spent a mini-fortune on my hair today, but I have a bad feeling it's not going to last.

I also feel like playing the piano, but I can't, just in case our neighbour set fire to our house.

Grrr. I feel like I need to bite something.

Collecting

So, the question is - though obviously I should be thinking about more important things like, should I or should I not buy an eyepatch in my new home by the sea and wear it for the rest of my days, or will that be an unwelcome reminder of the Viking days when someone's great great great great great grandfather got cleav'd in two, and thus result in my attaining the same fate in most delay'd vengeance? - have I become a collector of perfume? This is a big question for me, of course, because *collectors* are bespectacled old men who inevitably get murdered for the crown jewel (sometimes literally) of their collection, or old spinsters who die smothered by their collection falling on them.

I was traipsing through Far East the other day, when I randomly decided to visit a perfume discounter, and spotted a bottle of Hiris. The salesgirl checked the price for me, and to both our astonishment (she even doublechecked her ledger), it was a mere SGD30! A handful of pennies, I say, so I carelessly threw the amount on the counter and instructed the girl to wrap it up and send it to my address. (Actually, I paid by NETS & told them I didn't need the plastic bag.)

So, anyway, am I a collector? Cos I sure feel like one. I catch myself thinking thoughts like 'I don't think I'd wear that perfume, but it's a must-have, so I need to buy it *obsesses*'. And 'I think I don't quite have enough rose scents, or ginger ones. Maybe I should check out the reviews & discounters.'

Also, I didn't need to buy Hiris... I don't *need* it, I have Infusion d'Iris & Iris Nobile sitting prettily in my collection already...

OMFGWBTFF (I don't know what this means, btw - Oh My F* Gorillas' Warts But That's F* Flatulent?) I AM a collector!

And you know, if my collection comes crashing down on me, the smell will cover up the stink of my rotting body, so it would take days more for the neighbours to finally ring up the police. I will be the most perfumed corpse east of the sun.

_____________________________________

Oh, & 1 more bit of perfume & moi TMI news - I've been enjoying Guardian's ginger body lotion (SGD1.95!) layered with L'Occitane's Honey & Lemon perfume (SGD... never mind), and occasionally tinged with unknown Japanese lip balm with a wonderful rose scent (SGD3 or so). The whole combination makes me feel rather... organic. But in any case! *recovers from yet another inane remark* There's something about ginger & honey & lemon & rose that comes through really well when combined with (erm... I don't know how else to say this...) body warmth. It's like all these delicious scents get heated up on the skin & start wafting here & there... *trails off into merciful silence*

Mythago Wood

Just bought Mythago Wood from Kino on a whim today, and as usual, eyes practically glued to the book till I was done. (note: glued eyes not indicator of quality as happenes with every fiction book. Opposite effect observed with non-fiction.) (Sorry LSB, will still finish stuff on time.)

I've realised I'm no good at reviews, mostly because I seldom emerge from any book with any coherent thought, more of vague impressions and feelings. Mythago Wood is dark and scary and rather intense, not the type of book you'd like to finish reading at 2am, with nobody around to talk to. There're certain books & films that you finish with a certain... warped sense of reality, usually in a 'time is out of joint' and slightly unpleasant way. Which testifies to the superbness of the work, btw. Perhaps the word I'm looking for is 'haunting'... yet 'haunting' does not adequately convey the very small but primal core of fear created by this book. It's more like waking from a nightmare and being momentarily unable to differentiate dream from reality, disoriented and half-certain that the scary but wondrous creatures of the dark are about to pounce. (In a magical way. Full of mythology, adventure and strange, frightening things that lurk just a step beyond human knowledge.)

So I've put on the music, and pilfered some ham & cheese (yay ham & cheese! all hail marketing day, when there's still ham & cheese in the house!) from the fridge, poured myself a cup of rose tea, and am now waiting for the sense of normalcy to return. Anyway, excellent book, highly recommended.

Also, I have a feeling my mood last night was rather affected by a partial reading of Kundera's Unbearable Lightness of Being. Suggest LSB read his copy when he has the time.

(Yes, I communicate with LSB via my blog. It's rather strange and almost exhibitionist, but I can't be bothered to sms/email/MSN, and I don't think he'd appreciate me calling with a book recommendation at this time.)

(Also, I think that for a few moments after reading a book, my writing style mimics the author's. The 1st 2 paragraphs of this blog entry are very... Mythago Wood. It's slightly scary to think of myself as an unconscious writer's chameleon, it's almost as if I'm living out the 'atmosphere' of the book. Hmmm ok I'm frightening myself.)

Pretty Stories

There's this really charming article on BBC, and I can see why it captured the imaginations of so many treasure hunters. The 'treasure' is really pretty too...

The last 2 movies I watched were pretty good - Up and District 9. Of the 2, I liked District 9 better, because while Up was more touching (for me), it is likely one of those movies whose impact disappears the 2nd time you watch.

DISTRICT 9 SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!





















District 9, on the other hand... The mark of a good movie is how realistic it is. The situations don't have to be realistic, the characters don't have to be realistic, but the movie has to be realistic. District 9 is a movie about aliens, and yet stays so contemporary and relevant and real... It was so realistic that on several occasions way before the movie ended, I genuinely thought the protagonist was going to die. (yeah, I know) True, there are caricatures in the movie, like a criminal boss who eats aliens as part of some black magic (??) rituals. But then again, I recall the reports of albinos being killed and eaten because eating them is supposed to give you some sort of powers. The movie was cheeky in many instances, for example, the Nigerians & the whole cat food scam. But there is a bitter core of reality even in these instances. It is, in all, a very depressing movie. In this movie, the heroism of individuals does not actually have any uplifting effect, not for me anyway. The whole movie is too darn depressing because the worst parts of it are real, and the best parts... we can only hope.

Another mark of a good movie (or a really bad trailer), the movie was better than the trailer. See the very innovative website for the movie, supposedly run by the bad guy (MNU) - http://www.d-9.com/. Their marketing techniques are very interesting... See also the blog by a 'non-human dissident' at http://mnuspreadslies.com/, and more information on the movie & marketing at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/District_9.

Is cute cockroach!

I saw a cute cockroach for the 1st time in my life! I was walking up the stairs to my house when I suddenly saw a big fat cockroach on the stairs, so I did a mini-gasp/scream. And then the cockroach was so frightened that it jumped up! And it accidentally landed on its back, so it had to flip itself back up. Then for some reason, the cockroach headed menacingly down the stairs towards me (cockroaches are aggressive...) and I was terrified until it... accidentally slipped off the stairs and fell 1 floor down with some slightly panicked fluttering...... So cute (but in a scary way)!!!!!! I still don't like cockroaches though...

I seem to have adjusted to non-working life surprisingly quickly. I had expected at least a few more days of waking up at 7am and feeling strange that I'm not working. Instead I'm already sleeping at 5am and waking at noon. It's as if I'd never started work at all... (maybe this is my natural state)

He is ROBOCHICKEN!!!!!

Half robot, half chicken, I give you... *drumroll*



ROBOCHICKEN!!!!!! The mighty winged superhero guards the nation from the evil scourge of annoying colleagues and crazy customers! (even though he's made of blutack and thumbtacks)

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

Sending some love to the BBC for giving us this lovely poem by Carol Ann Duffy and a big hug for this wonderful perfume news. I especially love the last pre-emptive sentence of the perfume article.

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

Anyway, a minor crisis at work to settle tomorrow, so, ya know.

About to puke blood

LINC is down dammit! And I'm in the midst of doing a biblio! ARGH I am so pissed I'm taking a break from the stupid biblio for the time being.

Btw, I also had to jump through hoops the size of my conscience to get Wireless@SG today. FREE WIRELESS PEOPLE, ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?????? What do I have to do to enjoy free, unlimited wireless use dammit.

And work hasn't been a breeze either. I was always under the impression that once you've tendered you basically spend the rest of the time bumming, waiting to leave. But it seems that all resigning means is EVERYTHING has a very strict and tight deadline. No more 'no rush for this, I'll look at it when I have the time'. EVERYTHING is urgent now. Not to mention everybody is trying to get me to put the whole world right before I go. All I've been doing is coming up with new templates and guidelines and systems and rules. AND my boss asked me to PRINT a copy of every new template/guideline I've introduced. Last count was oh, about 120 files? FILES my dears, not pages. And I'm not even done yet! Not to mention we're getting a new PR system for which I have to do ALL the templates & guidelines and for some reason everytime someone doesn't know what to do they ask me. Didn't you attend the training huh? What, am I a computer expert now? What makes you think I know? And our new assessment system is the same. 'Ask Elaine ask Elaine ask Elaine'. Dudes, just use your common sense. Oh, and did I mention 1 staff submitted FIVE staff suggestions today? That's FIVE additional things I have to work on.

DAMMIT why isn't anyone free for drinks tonight? I'm in such a bad mood.

Thoughts

It's rare that I'm glad to hear from these religious types, but I am in this case.

Very unexpectedly, the most rewarding part of my job has been managing staff, and yet I also consider this to have been my greatest failure.

Managing staff has been one of the most difficult and time-consuming things I've had to do, and my patience has been sorely tried. But it is gratifying to see recalcitrant staff respond after months and months of coaching and confidence-building, even if it is just the slightest improvement. It is also very gratifying to know that to some extent, they see someone who is 'different' from previous supervisors. Of course I'm realistic enough to know that once I leave, they'll forget me very quickly, and if I make a mistake and generate more work for them, they'll definitely whine my ears off and complain very loudly about me behind my back. Still, I know that in my unit, the relationship between supervisor and subordinates has never been better.

On the other hand, I truly regret that in some cases I overplayed my hand. I got too close to some staff and now they don't truly regard me as a supervisor. It doesn't affect me, but it will affect them if they don't change. Another nagging worry is that I failed to put in a sustainable system, and once I'm gone, the new person has to start all over again, and everything that was achieved just disappears.

My problem seems to be that I can't properly work on anything unless I'm fully invested, and once that happens, I find it hard to let go. I can't believe I spend so much of my time worrying about what's going to happen to the affairs under my charge once I leave.

Childhood dreams

Just a quick note first - has anyone noticed how damn popular Obama is? (ok so I'm late on the scene) We're like, Obama swatted a fly! Obama's teleprompter smashed! Obama chose a dog! Someone do an Obama trivia quiz already. Oh wait.

But the fly-swatting thing is really cool.

Anyways.

I had 2 childhood dreams. The first was to become an astronaut and fly (sail?) into the far reaches of outer space, going where no man has gone before (!!!!), then when I run out of food & water & oxygen, I would slowly waste away and turn into a dessicated skeleton travelling forever in a spaceship. This was my 'happy thoughts' fantasy, something I used to imagine when I was feeling happy and optimistic. (yep) (though it's kind of romantic, no?)

But whenever I was angry or angsty I'd dream of living all my life alone, locked up in an old tower filled with books, and I'd read all those books and be the wisest person in the world. And of course there would be waves crashing outside and I would read by candlelight (the tower is on an isolated coast). Less obviously, I would survive on a diet of maggi mee (since I didn't foresee having a fully equipped kitchen or much choice wrt groceries).

(I'm the kid who throws a tantrum and screams 'I'll lock myself up in a library forever! And I will READ! Do NOT make me go there! I might even die a slow death in a cluster of stars previously unknown to man, and you will regret!" Ah which parents would not cower before such threats?)

But it just shows you should be careful what you wish for, because my bookworm-hermit dream looks like it's about to come true. (Isolated beach? check. (Ivory) tower? check. Lots of books & reading? check. Diet of maggi mee? oh god.)

So I'm of two minds about this. On one hand the voice in my head is reduced to some gibberish repetition of 'my life is over my life is over I will die there what have I done?' On the other hand, the other voice in my head is like, 'I will retreat into my tower and acquire great knowledge and when I return I will conquer the world and you will bow before me! I AM MERLIN! *evil laughter*' All of which indicates that I am one step away from pure, mad genius.

You know, even LSB might draw the line at eternal maggi mee.

is sighz

Studying Africa is not easy. It's freaking depressing. I seriously need to rant.

One good thing work has done for me is it's shown me what type of thinking I like. I like creating systems, organising them, working out how each component of the system functions and interacts with other parts of the system. Which is, I guess, why I like theories, because theories are just systems. And I guess that's why I haven't let go of the ES, because it is such a disorganised theory. The individual components aren't linked to each other in any systematic way, and there's no interface, and there're multiple layers in each concept and when people use these concepts they emphasise different layers with different results and so on. It irritates the hell outta me, and I very itchy-fingeredly want to make it into a usable and neat theoretical system. You know, it may seem strange to people who know me, but I really get a kick out of creating an excel file with many components, and all the auto-calculations linking everything to each other, so that all the user has to do is to key in some raw data and tonnes of stats start falling in line.

Just goes to show that a disorganised personal life (and habitat) is no reason to think that a person doesn't like organisation. Actually, the truth is, my room is in such a mess because I haven't thought of a sustainable way (i.e. doesn't require any maintainence) to keep it organised. (I wonder how many people will believe this?)

But Africa... Africa is a totally different matter. It's impossible to view the whole thing as an academic exercise. Studying Africa means reading pages and pages of depressing and scary things - reading about disease and poverty, women and children being abused and raped, people getting killed and killing with almost casual indifference, amputations, mutilations, corruption, torture. And I don't even have the comfort of telling myself it's just fiction, because as much as I get pissed off when all people do is write about Africa's problems, I can't deny that Africa's problems get so much attention because the problems are DAMN HUGE. Just being reminded of man's seemingly limitless capacity for violence and suffering is enough to make me feel sick. Really, try it yourself. Every few minutes I have to stop reading and take a breather, to remind myself that where I live, things are not like that. It's a relief looking up from my books to take in the contented, prosperous commercialism of your average Singaporean mall. It's a relief to go back to the theories and go back to what I'm most comfortable with - a detached, disinterested intellectual exercise.

So anyway, reading about Africa is how I spent $150 on clothes and shoes. And I'm seriously concerned not just about my finances, but my mental health as well. After hours of reading about human rights abuses, walking past a mannequin with a detached arm lying on the floor, all I could think of was guess what, they do that to real people as well. It is sick, really sick, and it's really happening, maybe right now. That's not a particularly easy thing to realise. Lots of people know, but I doubt many fully register this. I suspect that to many people, all the terrible things they hear on the news is like fiction, something that happens far away and is not quite real. Everytime I read the news I get depressed. I've developed a habit of shaking my head sadly everytime I read news on Africa (because hey, when is news from Africa ever good?). I don't understand how so many people can be immune to the news. Doesn't anyone feel horrified? Day after day of bad news from everywhere, of people dying and suffering? The news is like a daily body count, you know, which is why I hate the news. Is it just me? Why doesn't anyone feel horrified that our world is such a grotesque, painful, frightening place? Why doesn't anyone feel scared that it could so easily have been them as well? All it takes is for you to be born in the wrong place.

As for myself, I need a good dose of escapism. Music, for one. Music in itself is refreshingly free from such horrid thoughts. Classical music is nothing except itself. It's pure, free from the ickiness and grossness of reality. Retail therapy was my antidote for the day, as well as a thankfully brainless manga. Retail therapy to surround myself with pretty things, manga to immerse myself in a world that doesn't make me feel like puking. LSB to make me feel safe and to remind me of the good things, like love and all that jazz.

I'm in trouble because when I'm too emotional about something, I find it very very difficult to study it properly (the silent screaming in my head makes it difficult to think at all). And you know, that's why I don't like studying history. I don't like reading so many sad and depressing 'stories'. They get me too involved, and then it's virtually impossible to find any sense of perspective after that.

Argh I need to reintroduce a sense of normalcy to me, else my over-active imagination will guarantee me violent nightmares of killing and being killed. I must be the only joker around who gets scared after reading academic books. (T_T) Maybe I should have studied the EU instead. Then all I need to worry about is nightmares of being drowned in regulations.

Sometimes international relations can be fun (for those looking in)

So I love the BBC. Article on Bermuda accepting Muslim Uighurs from Guantanamo without consulting London.

Highlights:

"London is also concerned about the effect on China, which has demanded the return of these Uighurs, whom it regards as dangerous "separatists" for supporting a Muslim state of East Turkestan in western China.

British diplomats in Beijing face quite a delicate mission in trying to explain what has happened.

On the one hand they want to push the blame onto those pesky Bermudians (one can imagine the Chinese hurrying discreetly for an atlas; perhaps the Brits helpfully brought one).

On the other hand, it is a considerable loss of face for the British ambassador to have to admit that the Bermudian mouse has nibbled the tail of the old British lion.

Maybe the Chinese will see it as a plot and a way for the treacherous British to blame someone else. In that way, honour, and face, might be saved."

Entirely possible, that atlas thing.

"Meanwhile, the Uighurs are, in the splendid understatement of their lawyer, "trying to get a sense of where they are".

Where they are is in the middle of the Atlantic, a bit over to the left-hand side."

You should see the map the BBC put up to show where Bermuda is - a little white dot in a vast expanse of blue ocean.

3 wolves

I love the BBC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Juz sayin'.

Perfume Stocktaking! (long, wordy post)

So I'm doing some stocktaking of music & perfumes. I hear from more experienced perfumistas that it's good to do a stocktake of your perfumes at some point to:
1. Find out if your collection has expanded to the point of gargantuity;
2. Find out what you like & what you don't;
3. Find out if you've gradually come to like stuff that you didn't before;
4. For fun.

So I'm conducting a sniff-a-thon of all my perfumes, and I've listed my impressions below. I actually lined them up in a certain order - based on my associations (olfactory or sentimental or otherwise) - to sniff. You'll find that perfumes are like a mood, or emotion, or landscape, or even a story to me, sort of like a piece of music, or a book. Here's to an indulgent examination of my olfactory preferences & associations, & here goes nothing!

I have 6 categories of scent:
A. Comfort/Nostalgia/Girly Scents
B. Comfort/Gourmand Scents
C. City Scents
D. Country Scents
E. For the Rich & Glam
F. The Hard to Swallow

A. Comfort/Nostalgia/Girly Scents
1. Sarah Jessica Parker Lovely (100ml) - This was the one that started it all, the result of my 1st search for a 'signature scent' that led to a lot of perfume-related research. It has a slightly herbaceous scent that I like, but is still sweet and mild enough to be fairly conventional, so this is a comfort scent for me. I like wearing this scent with my light blue sweater (the one I bought when I was 13, so most of my friends should know this sweater). They just fit together. Lovely also doubles up as a pillow spray because of the comfort factor. I'm not sure I would buy this perfume now, but not a bad 1st methinks.

(Ok wait, actually my 1st buy was Anna Sui Dolly Girl, but it gave me such a headache because of the saccharine factor, I gave it to my sis.)

2. Lanvin Rumeur (sample) - When I bought SJP Lovely, my alternative was Rumeur. Rumeur doesn't have the herbaceous undertone, and is a flirty, feminine, pretty perfume. I think 'Rumeur' is a bad name for the perfume though, because the scent is too pleasant.

3. Hermes Kelly Caleche (miniature 15ml) - Like Rumeur, Kelly Caleche is a 'pretty & girly' scent. However, Kelly Caleche has a teeny bit of 'soft leather', so it's a bit more sophisticated than Rumeur (sort of like a young gentile woman in her chic town clothes instead of her summer dress).

4. Bvlgari au The Vert (miniature) - Ah another comfort perfume. This is basically green tea & mint, and I really like this scent. It's easy to wear, a crowd-pleaser, but more importantly, it's a nostalgic perfume that reminds me of my JC days. I don't really know why - maybe I used a green tea shampoo back then? Or maybe the colours I associate with the perfume (green & white) are also associated with my JC?

5. Body Shop Magnolia (50ml) - Actually, before SJP Lovely, I had a few bottles of scent (usu bought by Mum), but the only one that is still left in my cupboard is Magnolia. It's a simple, unassuming, comforting floral scent, slightly uninteresting for my taste now. Also serves as a good (& cheap!) pillow spray.

B. Comfort/Gourmand Scents
6. L'Occitane Miel & Citron (shimmering version- 100ml) - This is also a comfort scent, though a very different type. Sometimes (esp in stuffy environments), the smell can be overpowering (the honey!). However, I like to wear this to sleep, because when I crawl out from under my comforter in the morning, the warm scent of skin mixed with this perfume is delirious (and makes you want to go back to sleep). Don't like the shimmer though.

7. Diesel Fuel for Life (miniature) - On the same foody/gourmand theme. Fuel for Life is like a brutal candy attack on your nose - cloying & overpowering, it is like a childish caricature of a gourmand perfume.

C. City Scents
8. Bvlgari Black (75ml) - One of my favourites. To me this perfume is all about the city, the smell of rain with exhaust smoke & cars with a dash of vanilla, like walking past a traffic jam at orchard road on a rainy day, knowing that soon you'll be popping into a mall, out of the rain, for warm drinks, dessert & some retail therapy. It is also one of those smells that lingers on your jacket and smells so good that way (it's the mixing with skin scent thing again!)

9. Lalique Encre Noire (miniature) - Like Bvlgari Black, this is also a 'city' perfume. However, while Black is edgy & warmn, Encre Noire is edgy, cold & remote. Definitely not a perfume that lifts your spirits. On my skin, it smells as if I've been smoking 10packs/day, & there's also an earthy/woody & sourish sweetness to it. This should be a perfume worn with a perfectly tailored suit, & plenty of aristocratic aloofness. Can you tell that I love this scent? My only problem is it doesn't stay very long on my skin.

(A note on Lalique - I found to my surprise that my mum has an old collection of Lalique miniatures, & based on a sniff-test, their perfumes are plenty good. Worth looking into.)

10. BLV Notte pour femme (miniature) - Another city perfume, though BLV Notte is like a 'pop' version to the 'alternative' Bvlgari Black & Encre Noire; while Black & Encre Noire evoke 2 different melancholic & urban atmospheres, BLV Notte just reminds me of clubbing. What does it smell like? Chocolate & vodka. I turn to Notte when I don't want to think too much, but it's not a favourite.

11. Prada Infusion d'Iris (pour femme) (miniature) - A perfume the diametric opposite of Notte, this is the classic office scent. It's both sophisticated & contemporary, and all crisp white blouses & pearl earrings. It's a cool floral scent that does not assail your nostrils. That said, it's not a flirty perfume. It is something I would wear if I have a management meeting, & need to appear feminine but in control & professional. Very easy to wear & easy to love.

D. Country Scents
12. Hermes Un Jardin en Mediteranee (miniature 15ml) - Ok, now we're moving from the city to lovely rural landscapes. They say En Mediteranee is a fig & cedar perfume, but I don't know what fig & cedar smell like, so there. For me, En Mediteranee is a cottage somewhere in the poorer rural Naples on a slow, warm afternoon. The sea is nearby, but not too near; just near enough to get a hear the sea gulls. There's an orange grove in the backyard, and a smouldering woodfire somewhere. There is freshly turned earth in the vegetable-herb garden outside, & an old man smoking a pipe at the front porch. Yep, all that in a bottle!

13. Annick Goutal Mandragore (50ml) - In the same village in Naples, the village wise woman/witch lives in a small cottage. In here, there are many curious and mysterious herbs and spices. We get a faint smell of something is brewing in the open-air kitchen at the back, and for some reason we know it's a medicinal cream, and is not to be eaten. There's some strange stuff here - dried lizards & fungi, big bottles containing strange, deformed shapes - but the house is very clean. The tables are meticulously wiped, the floors are swept, and the place is cluttered but neat, and there are bowls of dried flowers & fruit peel all over. Mandragore is a dark-ish, interesting scent (hey the thing is supposed to contain mandrake!), which remains clean, beautiful & non-threatening. Again, only problem is lasting power.

14. Hermes Terre d'Hermes (miniature) - If En Mediteranee brings to mind a poor village, Terre d'Hermes is a sun-scorched beach on a small island off the coast of Italy, owned by a billionaire. It's an almost unbearably hot, breezy day, so the beach is deserted. The waves lap against the huge boulders on the beach, and the sun evaporates the salt water almost immediately. Not too far away, where the sea is shimmering in the sun, there's a white yacht belonging to said billionaire. Terre d'Hermes has to be one of my favouritest perfumes. I wear this especially when I'm feeling down, or know that I'm going to be stuck in a cold place for a long time, because it is a warm, relaxing scent that reminds me of deserted, sunny beaches (but without coconuts!) & luxurious, long vacations.

15. Acqua di Parma Colonia Assoluta (miniature) - Let's now move to the more populated rural townships in the Mediterranean, to the effervescent, crowded rural town on market day. The morning starts bright & sunny with lemons & peppers traded at the market. After all the excitement of the morning though, it's home to put the fresh flowers from the market in the vase. Colonia Assoluta is another warm scent that is citrusy without being too 'detergent-like', if you know what I mean. I haven't really worn this scent much because I bought it recently, but I like it quite a bit.

E. For the Rich & Glam
16. Sisley Eau du Soir (miniature) - This is one of those classic floral scents that people might find 'old'. However, it's actually a lovely floral bouquet. A bit high-pitched, but very well-rounded, with a glamorous, sensual softness at its heart. Defnitely not something you'd wear to the neighbourhood mall. For me this is a black tie perfume, when you expect to be in a long gown, sipping champagne (no red wine!) & hobnobbing with the upper classes.

17. Hermes 24 Faubourg (miniature) - The 1st time I got a scent strip of 24 Faubourg, I stuffed it into my leather wallet, and omg it smelled so right. 24 Faubourg smells like money, a designer leather wallet full of money. Unlike Eau du Soir, you don't need an occasion to wear 24 Faubourg; you just need to look rich. I love this scent but seldom wear it, largely because me, rich???

18. Guerlain Shalimar (miniature) - Shalimar is a bit hard for me, since I've got the EDT, and I've heard the parfum is much better. Shalimar is a vanilla-ish perfume, with some citrusy (bergamot?) thing going on. This is the exotic one in this 'rich & glam' lot, like the European girl who marries a sheikh and lives in a huge airy Middle Eastern mansion with spicy incense burning all day. And it's turbulent times, with a civil war raging, & there's a whole lot of can-she-adapt-to-the-culture-&-sacrifice-all-for-love shenanigans going on. I like the EDT well enough, but I really wish I had the parfum instead.

F. The Hard to Swallow
19. Estee Lauder Youth Dew Amber Nude (30ml) - I bought this perfume unsniffed, cos I heard good things about it. The greatest thing it did for me was to demonstrate that I Do Not Like Amber In Perfumes, Amber Makes My Throat Itch Dammit. As for the juice, it's sweet in a slightly medicinal way (I don't like to smell it too often). Anyone wants this perfume?

20. Guerlain Vol de Nuit (parfum 8ml) - Ah this is the vintage/retro one. Sweet & slightly powdery, prone to accusations of 'old lady-ness'. My problem with this one is that the AMBER jumps out at me. I like this one better than YDAN, largely because there's not SO MUCH amber, but I like it only in the bottle & not on my skin.

21. Agent Provocateur (100ml) - Ok this is the sexpot flowerbomb perfume. I regret getting the 100ml bottle because seriously, I'll never finish using this if I dare only to spray a teeny little bit each time. It's like you accidentally barged into the boudoir of a... well, prostitute, and there's lots of rose-scented cosmetics, but also lots of skank. I like it in principle because every girl needs a sexpot scent like this, but. Use with caution.

I still have plenty of perfume samples, & some perfumes that I gave to my parents that are *not* strictly mine, but hey, I've already spent the whole afternoon on this. Plenty of fun though.

The Inter-webs

I'm on my 2nd consecutive day of MC (and the 3rd day of MC this week). What can I say... I don't deal well with coughs. Anyway, it's been a tough couple of weeks, so I'm taking this very very much treasured opportunity (when was the last time I had more than a one-day leave? And when was the last time my leave wasn't for unofficial but Very Serious and Important business & errands? Last June?) to take a breather and feel like myself again.

So that basically means music & Internet. Internet means news and Cute Overload. The big problem I have with the news is that it's so often bad. Evidence of resistance to anti-malaria drugs, suicides, murders... what else, oh, possibility of nuclear war (almost slipped my mind). Cute Overload balances it all out, with wunnerful pictures of cute furry (and sometimes not so furry) animals (like this!). Sometimes the comments on CO are also incredibly cute (though the cutest comments are usually the ones not intended to be cute):

I’m Suzannah H’s dad–she sent me a link to the posting. I can verify that she has always loved animals since she was a child (eons and eons ago), particularly little cute ones like Coco.

But I had no idea there was as much interest among the general public! It took me 30 minutes just to read all the comments, so how long did it take to write them all??? I mean, don’t you folks have JOBS and all???

and

When I got married we went camping and were entertained for days by the momma raccoons. Playing duelling Banjos with the stretchy cords that we used to close the coolers. Although one friend was sitting on top of the car when we got back from getting ice and firewood the first night. He did not remember that the raccoons are smarter than the average city boy and would look cute for potato chips to be tossed, while getting thier friend to steal said bag from right next to him. It scared him badly. Don’t even get me started on the squirrel incident.

Ah it's all about the balance, the Yin and the Yang, the fulcrum and the er... ok let's leave it at that.

Oh and I almost left out the big perfume news (even though approximately 0.002 people in the world apart from myself pay any attention to this segment of NoctisEqui news). I bought Guerlain Vetiver! Finally! After waiting for so long. But *ahem* it's for my dad. It is the most wonderful scent! I bought the biggest bottle available. *twiddles fingers* I should also mention that I bought my 1st Annick Goutal. On the same day. Price? *waves airily* Let's not talk about such crass things and focus on the beautiful and strange smell that is Mandragore! Who needs to eat anyway, huh?

Though I also have to mention that you can forget about niche perfumes being cool and whatnot in Singapore as it seems to be the territory of aunties. Not even your elegant somewhat foreignly-accented taitais. No, real honest to goodness aunties. The salesperson was like, 'Oh you know about these lines ar, then you must know perfume la. Got Sage Lutahns (Serge Lutens) and Ah-nick Gootal (Annick Goutal), very good one." Then she sprayed perfume liberally on my arm, raised my arm to her nose, and SNIFFED, and she was like, 'Ahhhh. So nice. You smell?' (no kidding!) And it seemed that every other customer and salesperson in that area was exactly like that. One customer was like, 'Long time never buy already, so come and see got what new perfume, then in the end buy so many bottles ah.'

Looks like my first initiation into auntiehood is complete.

Quote of the month

Quote of the month (and possibly of the year) comes from an MP telling a bunch of new citizens:

If you miss your original home, your kampong or your village, we have tours to places like fish farms.

Don't you just love it when some woman whose arrival was announced by trumpets (recorded) has no f-ing clue what she's saying?

A thousand reasons to stay

I made the most difficult decision of my entire life, and I just burned my bridges today. No turning back now. The past month has probably been the most difficult month of my life, and the next few months will be worse. I hope the next few years will be ok, but I'm not sure at all. Probably not. I've thrown everything I love into the air, gambled carelessly with everything I hold dear, let a whole lot of people down, all for a vague, uncertain, distant hope.

Only one reason to leave.

If there's any deity out there with any sort of powers at all, now is the time to give me strength. Would also appreciate any other supernatural assistance. Any miracle will do.

Black Ink

I have found a new holy grail perfume! And in very unexpected quarters (to me), what is more, thus destroying my moratorium on perfume procurement! Lalique's Encre Noir pour homme is super cool, ascetic, urban-synthetic, dark and slightly smoky (though perhaps maybe mayhaps not smoky enough....) and very 'moody French intellectual'. I also think that it's the perfect guy perfume!

So here's the thing. I'm longing to sniff it on LSB, but at the same time, I want to wear it myself. :( What do you guys think of matching girlfriend-boyfriend perfumes? I know those couples who go out wearing the same t-shirt are eye-rolls inducing, but perfume is a lot more subtle, no? And a lot sexier too... ;) Hmmm I'm meeting LSB later, so maybe I'll ambush him with the perfume hehehe... (I know he's out now, so he won't read this till too late! I'm a genius!)

Argh speaking of which. I have to run. Like, now.

The Literature Available to Me

A sample of titles on Africa available at Borders:

The Rebel's Hour

Where Soldiers Fear to Tread

Memoirs of a Boy Soldier

They Poured Fire on Us from the Sky

Escape from Slavery

Black Skin, White Marks

We Wish to Inform You that Tomorrow We'll be Killed with our Families

Africa: Altered States, Ordinary Miracles

Unbowed

Come on now. I don't know why everyone says Borders is good for acad books. It actually sucks for international relations (& apparently Africa too). Not that Kino is any better for Africa, but at least it has more academic IR books.

Also, I'm feeling nervous about Aber, and wondering why online guides on Aber seem to list more pubs than restaurants.

The Onion - Prague's Franz Kafka International Named World's Most Alienating Airport

Prague's Franz Kafka International Named World's Most Alienating Airport

Living on the wild side

In my house, it is not unusual to see my entire family going about their daily tasks (usually comprising of watching tv and waiting for their tv show to start), with an unusual object perched on their heads. For some, it would be a towel or blanket wrapped tightly around the head, for others with a little more je ne sais quoi, it would probably be a cushion tipped at a jaunty/coquettish 45 degree angle. It all depends on the individual's intuitive grasp and interpretation of the latest haute couture trends. There are of course, some who go bare-headed, but this is a minority (according to a recent survey, approx 33.3333% of the population).

This intriguing local custom, as fashionable and avant-garde as it may seem, is actually a practice necessitated by the harsh living conditions in this small community. You see, this community lives on the wild side. What this means is that on every other night, the presence of a flying alien organism (FAO) will trigger either a Bug, Stinky Beetle, Moth or Cockroach alert. Upon receiving this alert, the majority of the community will immediately take steps to prevent the landing of any FAOs on their carefully conditioned follicles.

The danger from these FAOs is real. A Bug will often attach itself to the above-mentioned follicles, and will be incredibly difficult to extract. A Stinky Beetle situation is doubly serious, with attempts to extract the SB leaving an almost-permanent Stink in the victim's hair that will require many shampooed washes to be removed. The memory of the Stink, of course, will haunt the victim for many years to come. A Moth might fly into the ceiling fan, to be shredded into many quivering pieces, which might land on a carelessly uncovered head. These pieces might go undetected by the victim for many hours. Finally, Cockroaches have been known to deliberately launch themselves towards the members of this community.

[At first I wrote a bit attributing certain tactics/characteristics of terrorists to cockroaches, but then I uncharacteristically deleted it cos I felt it was insensitive and incendiary, and despite those few lines being really really witty and clever, I really shouldn't say such things on a public forum..... oops.]

[Hmmm where was I? Now I've totally lost momentum on the Bug thingy. Argh crap never mind.]

An outsider will find it difficult to understand the paradoxical nature of this community - at once living in fear of these nightly dangers, yet strangely at ease with the imminent threat and the inevitable casualties. This lack of understanding has led to an exoticisation of the local community, with comments like 'You live in jungle ar' being especially prevalent among a member's colleagues whenever stories of the local wildlife are related in the office. An especially traumatic incident was during an office lunch, when the boss of this member of the community was present. This member of the community was merely trying to impress upon her colleagues the threatening nature of the monkeys found in the vicinity of her home by emphasising to them the incredibly large size of their (the monkeys') muscles. Even this innocent remark led to a jibe by a colleague that 'The monkeys go gym and try to impress you la!' This then led to much derisive laughter, and the above-mentioned boss making mock arm flexing actions. In addition to the dignity of the occasion being utterly destroyed, this jibe was not forgotten even days after the incident, with colleagues occasionally referring to the jibe with comments like 'You ask your monkey friends help you hantam [those people you don't like] lor.' Needless to say, the emotional trauma to this member of the community has led her to swear never to talk about monkeys' muscles again.

In the blanks between life, we have quizzes

Let's just say I'm currently waiting and have nothing better to do, shall we?

What is Your Current Obsession?

Dying to shop, especially since I finally found out that my Capitaland card, which I got when I stepped into DBS and told them I wanted a card, and they gave me a form which I then blindly filled in (having ascertained that I didn't actually have to pay anything)gives me rebates at Dorothy Perkins & Topshop... *takes deep breath after long sentence* but trying to combat deadly retail addiction because I might soon have to get used to not having enough money for breakfast.

So yeah, I guess that means my current obsession is trying not to spend. I even stopped myself from getting a pedicure today and will soon have to cut my toenails myself. Can you imagine the horrific destitution in which I find myself?

What Do You See Outside Your Window?

Erm do you mean my bedroom window or my office win... oh wait, I forgot my office has no windows. So, I guess the slope outside my house with lots of fruit trees and bats. Oh, and the condominium they built on top of that slope as well. Damn developers.

Do You Nap A lot?

Not these days. I prefer not to be fired.

Who was the Last Person You Hugged?

Is this a trick question? *suspicious* Because you should know that the only person I hug as a matter of course is LSB.

What Animal Would You Be?

If the questioner were right in front of me I would give him/her/it a slap. But if the question is meant to be what animal I would like to be, I'd apologise to the questioner and say something inane. Like, bird. Or maybe dog. Wait, make that cat. As long as I'm not a stray cat. Or an endangered one. You know.

What's for Dinner?

Mother's warm, home-cooked poison. I jest. Actually it was rice and some concoction comprising bittergourd & unknown meat & fish. Very nutritious.

What was the Last Thing You Bought?

I would like to say Western Digiter EHD, just so I can rant about how it's taking forever to format and say 'I hate technology!', but actually, a bottle of chrysanthemum tea.

What are You Listening to Right Now?

Raindrops? The fan? Sound of silence?

What is Your Favorite Weather?

Not too chilly, not too warm. Slight breeze, a teeny weeny amount of raindrops acceptable as long as umbrella not required. Ground preferably not wet. Don't like cold & wet toes.

What's on Your Bedside Table?

Tinkerbell. I don't have a bedside table.

If You Could Have a House Totally Paid for, Full Furnished, and Anywhere in the World Where Would You Want It to Be?

Where's the most expensive land in the world? Monaco? I don't know... Somewhere I could sell the home for tonnes of money and live like a king(queen) somewhere else.

Where are You Typing from Right Now?

My living room. More specifically, on the sofa bed my sis has colonised, and from which I shall be undoubtedly deported in a few minutes.

A Book You are Currently Reading?

The International Thought of Martin Wight. Yeah, I know. Does it help that I've been stuck on Chapter 3 for about a month?

What Would You Like to Have in Your Hands Right Now?

Gold. Wait, no, diamonds. Or a huge cheque. Maybe a fan letter from Barack Obama, No. 1 fan of my blog. Hmmm I'm fickle.

What Would You Like to Get Rid of?

Mess in my bedroom. I have been trying to get rid of it for the last few weeks, and this is really Clutter's Last Stand (haha get it? Custer's last stand?), but it's such a damn pain.

If You Could Go Anywhere in the World for the Next Hour Where Would You Go?

I need to get to a certain town in Wales to see what I'm getting myself into.

What Did You Want to Be When You Grew Up as a Child?

Author. I should mention this, when my pri 6 teacher (the bitch) asked me during class what I wanted to be, I said I wanted to be an author, and she thought I said 'doctor', so her face lit up and she went on and on about how it's such a noble profession etc. And when I disabused her of the notion that I was ever going to wield a needle with any frequency (not that most doctors do, I would imagine. And no, I would never have been a seamstress anyway), her face just fell. Bitch.


What Posters/Pictures Do You Have on Your Bedroom Wall?

None. I used to have a map of the world (earth) & some astronomy chart. Does that count?

What is Your Plan for Tomorrow?

Amazingly enough, I actually have something of significance planned for tomorrow. (way to go, me!) I will be heading down to a Government Office to register my brand new citizenship! Yay! LSB shall never be able to make fun of me, the foreigner, again! And I have my Singlish down pat too! After which I shall try (and fail) to convince myself to go back to work. Instead, I shall spend a relatively pleasant afternoon shopping and spending all the money I saved today.

What Should Everyone Have?

A blog where they can totally do quizzes while they're waiting for their EHD to format.

The News

I love this CNA headline - Selective sex abortion causes 32 million excess males in China.

Pls tell me you know why I love it. I need some faith in humanity('s sense of decency/humour/political correctness).

_____________________________________


And piracy news provided my wtf moment of the day - "This convention [i.e International Law of the Sea Convention], in article 105, does permit the seizure of a pirate ship, but article 110 lays down that, in order to establish that a ship is indeed a pirate vessel, the warship - and it may only be a warship - has to send a boat to the suspected ship first and ask for its papers."

_____________________________________

Finally, personal news - I didn't realise until highlighted to me by my colleagues, that I have a habit of frowning at everything. When I'm troubled/worried/thinking/sad/happy/whatever... I frown.

And now I have 2 permanent frown lines! ARGH!!!!!!! *panics* I need botox!!!!!!!

Series of updates

I'm insanely happy today because my teacher praised me! Albeit in his usual double-edged way haha... Dammit, I love to be praised. I am totally a closet teacher's pet (but will never admit this offline, 'cos I have my rebel-hates-teachers image to upkeep, ya'know?)

Unfortunately, nowadays the happy things tend to be tainted with the thought that I might not get to enjoy them for very much longer. *emos away*

____________________________________________

I remember the day I got 'The News' and crossed that mental threshold to realise that 'It' might really happen.

As is my usual practice when I'm faced with reality that I'm not quite prepared to face, I took a long walk in my neighbourhood. I was thinking how everything seems brighter and more beautiful when you're getting further from it... and of course I walked out of Cold Storage (hey who says you can't take walks in Cold Storage?) into the most glorious sunset I have seen in ages. You know, the type with the golden glow and painted skies and silhouetted trees. And I thought, wow is it just me or is this place totally reflecting my thoughts today?

Then I looked up at the sky and saw two (not one but TWO) brilliant rainbows stretching in huge arcs over the entire sky. At that point, I might have been observed to raise my eyes to the heavens and plaintively demand, 'Isn't this a bit much?'

And then, right then, my handphone rang, and it was my 2 sisters who happened to be on the opposite side of the street. They'd spotted me and excitedly told me about the rainbows. Then they ran laughing across the street to meet me.

I should have turned delightedly towards them and lovingly gathered them in my arms while seagulls called and the wavelets caressed the sand... but I just silently groaned at the corny movie that is my life and refused to participate in any of its silly theatrics.

True story, I swear. I couldn't even make this up myself.
________________________________________

I have officially reached the pinnacle of my career today, and accomplished the one thing I will spend the rest of my life boasting about.

This story requires a bit of background. You should know that before joining my organisation, I was (and am) an IT idiot. More specifically, for the purposes of this story, I have never taken a course on MS Excel, and had to learn how to sum figures on the job. Just a few months ago, my colleague was horrified that I did not know about the 'black cross thingy', and was Ctrl+C & Ctrl+V-ing in order to replicate cells. So let's get this clear, my Excel sucks bigtime.

Today, I created an incredibly sophisticated (by my standards) excel form! I used the SUMIF function (which I've only heard of today), together with the IF function (also just learnt), and the form had drop-down lists and such! Before today I didn't even know it was possible to create drop-down lists in Excel! It was a form that my more technologically advanced colleagues did not know how to create! I am SO incredibly pleased with myself, I am about to frame that form and give it pride of place on my office wall. I am so impressed by myself, I bet I could do quantum physics if I really wanted to. If only I was the one giving me my performance bonuses...

Kowtow before my genius, ye masses of only ordinary intelligence!
_______________________________________________

To reiterate, yay I got praised today!

Cry, the Beloved Country

"Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much."

- Alan Paton

Joy-Sorrow Conundrum

Most of you would be familiar with my classic time-money conundrum, most often employed as a convenient excuse whenever someone invites me to go travelling.

You would not be as familiar with the joy-sorrow conundrum, or at least, my version of it. For after all, I clearly remember George Eliot giving a particularly concise articulation of this conundrum in The Mill on the Floss. Unfortunately, as such things go, I can't find my copy when I need it (I never do), so I can't refer to the book for the quote. I shall therefore have to rely on the Internet, and I don't really think that the quote I've found is the quote I'm looking for. It doesn't quite have the same meaning as my joy-sorrow conundrum.

Nevertheless, here is George Eliot - "Apparently the mingled thread in the web of their life was so curiously twisted together that there could be no joy without a sorrow coming close upon it."

I can't tell if the tangle is my life, or me, or maybe it's the same thing. But won't this darn mess ever get sorted out?

The Miserability of the Eaters of Babies

My colleague and I face each other miserably across my desk. On my desk is a huge tube of Chocobabies that LSB gave me in order to cheer me up. It is trying to do just that, and Chocobabies are dying in the attempt. We each have a pile of Chocobabies in our left hands (because we're both right-handers), and we're silently eating our respective piles. He throws a couple from his pile into his mouth and works at diminishing his pile, but I insist on eating Chocobabies one by one because I want to see if they're genuine Chocobabies. Genuine Chocobabies are the ones with the smiley faces because everyone knows that babies have faces. We (my colleague and I sans the Chocobabies, who are smiling away) are both very gloomy. How ah, he half asks. I confess that I don't know. Eat more, he answers his own question, as he finishes his pile of Chocobabies and pours a new pile on his hand. He places the tube back on my desk and waves me to take more. We laugh loudly-bitterly-helplessly, and my other colleague pops her head in to ask what we are laughing about.

Now there are no more fake or genuine Chocobabies on my desk.

Losing

I've always had the fear - and I'm not sure if anyone else is afraid over this in this same way - of losing myself. Part of the reason is because I feel as if I'm just the sort who'd trip over a step and drop herself somewhere and later have a hell of a time retracing her footsteps to find herself again.

Now that my 'extra-curriculum activities' have come to a close, I have a bit of time, and a few days ago I picked up some storybooks. Yes, storybooks. Books that I didn't have to read; books that could scale the heights of erudition or scrape the bottom of the trash bin, and I could read them all. Such a simple freedom, and I am floored. Which meant I spent my lunch hour at the miserable MPH near my workplace and bought 3 books. They weren't books I had been eyeing for a long time; they were just books that caught my fancy and so I dished out the hard, cold cash in a blind literature-purchasing frenzy. Doesn't matter what books they are, only that evening saw me parked in a cafe near the river with a glass of red wine, a slice of chocolate cake, a book in my hands and 2 more in my bag. Yes, when I Read I really Read. And so I Read.

And then the waiter asked me for the bill because they were closing, and I realised I had lost hours, and it was really time to be getting home. I staggered out of the cafe somewhat disoriented, with a buzzing in my head that annoyingly reminded me one should not read for hours in a dim cafe.

It was such a pleasure to read, and I was intoxicated with the seldom appreciated freedom of being able to read whatever one likes. And I thought, maybe I could keep doing this, sit through the work hours, then do this every evening - pick out a book and just read. I could do it for years, spending my time in a pleasant drowsy contentment, always letting my thoughts ride with the imagination of whichever author I happen to pick up, never being bored because I would be living so many lives through so many minds.

The thought chills me, that I might start reading one day, and look up to find that 20, 30, or even 40 years have gone by. I get scared because I think I am perfectly capable of doing that, perhaps not entirely literally, but close. I have never had a good memory, and now that I do so many things at work everyday, I would not be able to tell you, at the end of the day, what I had done in the morning. It would be as if my day got stolen from me, and I was alienated from my time.

I have always feared the madness within. It would be so easy for me to go mad, for me to forget who I am. All I have to do is to let go.

When I speak of madness - well, I don't know if a psychiatrist would call that mad. But I can't think of a better word to describe the feeling of not being in one's own mind, of letting the body do what it likes while the mind huddles in a corner or flies out and scatters in the rain. Of being unthinking, unable to form a coherent thought, unaware of myself and lost, suspended, in some fake, fictional world while my life drains away.

My erhu teacher always tells me that I need to make sure my qi is located low in my body, and I always give him my trademarked glazed eyes look. But I know exactly what he means.

The current heartbreak moment

Watercolour impressions. Singapore. Post-Ulysses.

I keep having these solitary romantic moments that I suspect are romantic partly because they are solitary. I feel quite Wordsworthian (or Words-worthy hehe).

I took a walk down to the Merlion area at the mouth of the Singapore River today, and there was an almost post-apocalyptic feel to the place. I'm not sure why, but it might have been the dark clouds, the half-hearted drizzle, the slightly too-strong-for-Singapore breeze, and the not-quite-dark dusk of Singapore. Come to think of it maybe it felt more post-modern than post-apocalyptic. Or maybe they're the same thing. In any case it was a post-something vibe.

I have always been fascinated by the placement of the Merlion in what is a carefully constructed picture of Singapore (and of course a photo opp for tourists). A specially built pier stretches out in front of the Merlion so that you can take the 'perfect' picture of Singapore: behind the Merlion is the Fullerton Hotel (an old colonial-type building), and beyond that is a towering circle of skyscrapers, Singapore's financial centre. There is the Singapore story for you - from British colony to economic success, just perfect.

Edwin Thumboo's poem Ulysses by the Merlion, is placed on the pier in front of the Merlion, an official caption to the official definitive photo of Singapore. This is the last verse of the poem:

Perhaps having dealt with things,
Surfeited on them.
Their spirit yearn again for images,
Adding to the dragon, the phoenix,
Garuda, naga, those horses of the sun,
This lion of the sea.
This image of themselves.

Whatever Thumboo thinks of his poem, I cannot but feel that to place the poem at this place is both bittersweet irony and piercing commentary. All around this spot, the hustle of dealing with things continues. This is the historical centre of trade in Singapore, the Singapore River. Today the Central Business District forms the backdrop to the Merlion. If you look a bit to the left of the Merlion, you will see the bright lights of the construction of the 'Integrated Resorts' (i.e. multi-billion dollar gambling den). This is the heart of where things are dealt with, traded, fought over. And yet in the midst of all this stands the Merlion, this misshapen, wistful creature, this symbol of our longing for images, and the image to satisfy our longings.

There is a beauty to Singapore that I had not appreciated when I was younger. It is not the beauty that our Tourism Board would like us to see, but a more ambivalent and neurotic beauty - a beauty more akin to that of a raving Ophelia or a guilt-stricken Lady MacBeth than the sweet innocence of a pure and certain Juliet. It is a desperate, futile beauty, beautiful because it is tainted with contradiction and conflict. There are red angry splashes of frustration in Singapore, and a greying disappointment, a mildewed, unsure hope, the green of our grass and sandy tramples, the shiny silver of technology, money and efficiency, a confusion of dragon and phoenix and garuda and naga and the horses of the sun has rampaged through and we no longer know what colour we are. Which lion in which sea?

The CBD during the weekend is like a silent, gargantuan cemetary that does not reflect the warmth nor the life nor the banality of those it was built for. They stand, huge and monumental sculptures, indifferent to the purpose for which they were built, and indifferent to our office hour scuttling between their concrete layers and columns.

We build things hoping that in building things we build enduring images. We are good at building things but we are not good at building images. Our images turn out to be a child's scribble - half-fish half-lion, half-everything all-nothing. Such ironic self-awareness we possess, that we chose this crooked creature as the image of ourselves and placed it at this very spot - this spot that represents everything we've strived to achieve and all the things we try to transcend.

Opposite float two brightly lit durian husks, two more halves of an empty whole.

I actually hesitated for quite a while before posting this, largely because it sounds so maudlin. It reminds me of my Creative Writing Club days, and god forbid I return to my Years of Angsty Poetry (although in my defence I wrote most of my poems in 2 weeks and only because I had to produce a portfolio to get into one of those arts programmes. After that I was a proudly inactive and unproductive member of the Club.) Nevertheless, here it is, and for a little extra entertainment... The song for tonight is:

Going Quantum: My Perfumed CNY Adventures

Title totally misleading. But I do have some stuff to say about quantum thingies, perfume (as always), and CNY.

This CNY has seen me behaving like a big girl. This was largely thanks to the incessant nagging of my colleagues who insisted that I Absolutely Had to get Lim Chee Quan bah kwa for my 'future mother-in-law' (their words, not mine) after they saw what I had originally planned to give (cookies). So after much haggling ('Can I give 500gm?' 'Too little!' '800?' 'Too little!' 'But very expensive! Ok ok 1kg lar.') we trotted down to Lim Chee Guan after work only to learn that the sliced pork had already been sold out, and we had to settle for the inferior (oh tragedy!) golden coin one. And even for that we had to queue for about an hour! An HOUR! But, as my more experienced and wiser colleague sagely noted, Lim Chee Guan is more than bah kwa; it has become a symbol of patience and virtue. Buy 5 cans of abalone also not better than 1kg of Lim Chee Guan bah kwa! 5 cans of abalone just use money can buy already, but Lim Chee Guan bah kwa still got to queue up and then maybe queue finish already still don't have.

It's things like this that make me realise how much I enjoy where I am now. Sometimes I think, I could work here forever. Sometimes.

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Today I dropped by the discounter near my workplace, and to my huge surprise, discovered a gem of a perfume. A banged-up box of Guerlain's Vol De Nuit in parfum form(!!!!!) was sitting alone in a crowd of Guerlain's Samsara. Now I confess that before today I'd never smelled this perfume before, and I actually knew very little about it. BUT what I knew was that this was a perfume that was launched in 1933, has since been discontinued, and is nearly impossible to find in parfum, especially in Singapore. I also knew that parfum extrait in general tends to be horrendously expensive compared to EDT & EDP. And here was this little perfume sitting calmly on the shelf selling for SGD39!

Ok, so the box is a little discoloured (read: very) and torn and even a bit mouldy. But I got the salesperson to open the box, and inside was an absolutely charmingly retro black and gold box, with the 8ml gold bottle nestled inside. So of course I jumped on it, hugged it, announced it was mine, and got a discount of two measly dollars. I confess my purchase had nothing to do with the actual juice. It's just the sheer joy of unexpectedly discovering something old and pretty and expensive and has a bit of romantic and tragic history to it, and being able to buy it for practically nothing (haha ok not really), and I would really have regretted it if I'd let it go. (I sometimes have the same reaction to really old books, but I'm a bit more wary with books because I am convinced the old ones are all infested with gigantic silverfish).

For an idea of what my perfume looks like, and how much it costs online, look here. The picture is on the right. It's selling online at $100+ for 8ml! Needless to say I'm reasonably pleased with myself.

In other perfume-related news, I am seriously considering setting aside a perfume fund. This arises from a recent visit to Sephora, where I fell madly in love (again) with Sisley Soir de Lune, and fell madly in love (for the first time) with Aqua di Parma Iris Nobile and Sisley Eau de Campagne. All of which cost about SGD200 each.

I think I'm rather fond of the iris note. Iris perfumes (Prada Infusion d'Iris, Hermes Hiris, Iris Nobile) tend to sit well with me.

I also like rose perfumes, but I think those are a little harder to do well. I don't like Bvlgari's Rose Essentialle because it's a little too sweet to be a real rose perfume for me. I've got Agent Provocateur, but oh man, that is a rose perfume with a huge wallop. It is the only perfume that I don't spray directly on my skin because it's too damn strong. Instead, I spray into the air and walk through the cloud of perfume. For most perfumes doing that just wastes the perfume, because the smell doesn't stick to you. But for Agent Provocateur it's a totally different story. I love AP, but it's incredibly strong, plus it's a rose perfume with a dirty/skanky note, all of which makes it not-so-polite. Thing with rose perfumes is it's too easy to be a) boring; b) old lady-ish; c) too strong; or d) too candied for my taste. But Sisley's Soir de Lune is such a wonderful gem of a perfume. It is a perfectly rounded rose perfume with no sharp edges; it's incredibly incredibly well-made, very sophisticated, and just all in all wonderful. At this juncture I should also inform you guys that I have a bad habit of sniffing congratulatory wreaths as I walk past unsuspecting newlly-opened shops. I especially love to sniff the lilies and roses, but this makes me rather embarrassing company, methinks.

As for Sisley's Eau de Campagne - For the longest time I've been looking for my perfect 'green' perfume, and this is it. Some green perfumes are nice but rather boring (Guerlain Vetiver), some are too strange for me (The Different Company Sel de Vetiver), and some are too sweet. But Eau de Campagne evokes freshly cut grass, the damp earth after the rain, and salty ocean breezes. It works. It works dammit.

Incidentally, I also love Annick Goutal's Encens Flamboyant, which smells exactly like incense in churches. It also costs more than I should pay for perfume. Just like the rest.

Bloody thing is, Sisley, Aqua di Parma & Annick Goutal don't usually turn up on Singapore's discounters' shelves. Argh! *tears hair out*

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On my going quantum - In the midst of all the stress and work early this month, I anyhowly bought a book by Stephen Hawking that is called [[something something] Baby Universes. It is coolness man. It has things like quarks and parallel universes and black holes. I was so fascinated by it that I bought Hawking's A Brief History of Time as well as A Very Short Introduction to Cosmology. Why in the world didn't they teach us this stuff in secondary school?!?! For all these years I thought that electrons were the smallest things eva! And if they'd told us about this stuff maybe I would have gone into science! (nah.) Reading these books, I feel somehow as if the world is actually pretty magical. I need to remember that not everything is prosaic and expected...

Rock music

I find that I appreciate different genres of music in different ways. For example, lyrics play a huge part in my appreciation of Mandarin pop/rock, but I seldom bother to even make out the lyrics in English rock. I think it's partly because I feel that Mandarin is inherently much much much more lyrical and beautiful than English, and very often, English lyrics merely spoil the music for me. (Case in point, Celine Dion's abysmal lyrics for 'All By Myself' have forever spoiled the 2nd movement of Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No.2 for me. Forever.) Just look at the lyrics for Jay Chou's songs - how much of it can be translated into English without losing the beauty? (Ya, irreversible damage to street cred due to appreciative reference to Jay Chou. Dear Jay, long gone are the days of your coolness. You have faded into mediocre idol-ness.)

For English rock, it's the howl (or growl, depending) of the guitars, wildness of the drums, the animalistic timbre and power of the voice... (*ahem* composes self and takes cold shower) and the sheer energy of the musical dissonance that gets me. Or it is the urban degenerate druggie feel. You know, for those urban degenerate druggie rocker types who are not like the healthy ones jumping around on stage and prefer to slump in a corner while somehow producing what passes for very very cool music from their guitars (probably stolen). As for the lyrics... I don't want to know. Really.

But occasionally, I take a listen to pop/rock that I never used to think much of and kinda tear up because the lyrics are so beautiful.

Superman

I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
I'm just out to find
The better part of me

I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane
I'm more than some pretty face beside a train
And it's not easy to be me

I wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
'Bout a home I'll never see

It may sound absurd but don't be naive
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed but won't you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream?
And it's not easy to be me

Up up and away away from me
Well it's all right
You can all sleep sound tonight
I'm not crazy or anything

I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
Men weren't meant to ride
With clouds between their knees

I'm only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me

Inside of me, inside of me, yeah
Inside of me, inside of me

I'm only a man in a funny red sheet
I'm only a man looking for a dream
I'm only a man in a funny red sheet
And it's not easy, it's not easy to be me

For the record, you should all know that I detest Superman (the red cape guy). For reasons unrelated to my detest of the superhero and for the longest time, I was relatively unimpressed by the song. It was one of those pleasant rock ballad types floating around in a veritable Pacific ocean of pleasant rock ballads. But for some reason this song is speaking to me these days. It's speaking, dude!

All this makes me think that maybe appreciation for the lyrics of a song is situational - (i.e. we like certain lyrics because of our experiences or our ability to imagine certain situations or images), but our appreciation for the music is largely aesthetic, with nothing to do with anything outside the music. Maybe? Yeah whatever.

Things are getting weird in here

I officially declare this the month of freaky Singapore weather. The mornings and night have been incredibly cold, and the afternoons have been incredibly warm BUT very windy. And I mean my umbrella turns upside down windy.

Ok I'm going to have to explain that right? Why I'm toting an umbrella on a sunny day like an old lady?

Nah.

(I love my l'aire de mysterieuse, and I don't know if I retain any French, I being one of notable French-specific non-retentiveness.)

In other news, I spent more than 12 bucks on post-it notes (2 pads altogether). Very very cute post-it notes.

I've become a post-it fanatic. They're like little flags saying 'look at me, I'm important!', so I tag all the important things at work with post-it notes. What this means is, of course, that my work desk looks a bit like it has been claimed by every single country in the world (and possibly a few extra-terrestrial empires), with many many many flags planted all over and all fluttering in the minuscule office air-con breeze. Either that, or my desk has become the unofficial hangout of the United Nations, and everyone brought their own flag in some sort of flag-themed potluck. Sometimes I think that with all that fluttering, one day my work desk is going to float up and out into the sky. Ah, most treasured dream!

Seriously, every morning I reach office, I'm greeted with many little paper screams, all wanting my attention, all saying 'look at me look at me! me first!' I might as well be a mother.

Oh, and my worst nightmare has come true. My colleague has been clearly heard to comment that I am like a little girl. Don't cry for me Argentina, it was inevitable and anyway, I don't really know you. As for the rest of you, cry your hearts out for my miserable little reputation.

(Can anyone tell I've been watching Scrubs again?)

Hedley Bull is the coolest

In his introduction to Martin Wight's International Theory:

"Wight's atttitude towards the behaviourists was the source of one of my disagreements with him. I felt that they represented a significant challenge and that it was important to understand them and engage in debate with them. The correct strategy, it appeared to me, was to sit at their feet, to study their position until one could state their own arguments better than they could and then - when they were least suspecting - to turn on them and slaughter them in an academic Massacre of Glencoe. Wight entertained none of these bloody thoughts. He made no serious effort to study the behaviourists and in effect ignored them." p.xi

Pissed

with African historians.

As much as it's not very PC to say so, and insofar as my rather scanty knowledge of the literature allows me to make sweeping statements on the subject.

But if they don't start acknowledging that the Europeans weren't the only brutal murderers in their history, they should stop writing.

My love for The Onion grows

Poverty-Stricken Africans Receive Desperately Needed Bibles

No Machine Can Do My Job As Resentfully As I Can

'Iraqi Gandhi' Preaches Slightly Less Violence

Substance dependency

I can't believe I spent the whole day searching for a blue can of Red Bull. Does nobody else require Red Bull to get through the day?!?!

Also, stopped by new Sephora at Taka. Perfumes section was a huge disappointment. The discounters have a much better range. The makeup and skincare sections were funky though. Sephora had better buck up if it's going to suck any of my perfume money out of my very shallow pockets.

Oh yeah, thought I'd mention that I cut my hair short. I look very very cute (in case you hadn't noticed).