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.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
?!?!?!
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.
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.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
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.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
"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.
Monday, September 28, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, September 18, 2009
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!')
2. Scream "F***ing scientists & their f***ing experiments!!!!!!!!!!!" (note to self: will probably come out as 'AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!')
Monday, September 07, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
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*
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*
Monday, August 31, 2009
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.)
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.)
Friday, August 21, 2009
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.
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)
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)
Friday, July 31, 2009
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)
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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.
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Anyway, a minor crisis at work to settle tomorrow, so, ya know.
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.
Friday, July 24, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, July 06, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
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:
Entirely possible, that atlas thing.
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
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