Halpz.

How often do I blog from school? Usually only when I fall into a lull, the latter of which are typically induced by periods of not knowing what to do (read: lazy? or in some cases, when I am simply too fatigued to do any more reading or writing essays).

And now, the lull has been induced by yet another 'almost an all nighter' incident. This time it ended an hour earlier though, at 4:30? am I think, but my eyes were weak then, it might have been another time....

Lynn is here...i am leaving :(

The Food Dilemna

I often display completely irrational decision making skills when it comes to food. I would choose a hawker centre over a food court anytime, but rather endure the long months of necessary saving to dine at a restaurant then wait for a month's worth of collected shillings for a night at a cafe.

It seems that I like to swing to either side of the spectrum. And thinking about it, I do have some rational nonsense for my irrationality.

What for pay up to $3 more for food at a food court when you can access a hawker centre? There is something incredibly alluring about the raw and gritty feel of eating wok fried goodness of greasy plates amidst the cacophony and tight squeezes of a noontime crowd that I would not trade for a gust of air conditioning. Blame my typical Singaporean mentality for this!

And, I do think that it is worth the wait to save up for a good meal at a reputable restaurant, then to spend about half the price for a meal at a cafe which probably tastes only a 1/4 as good. Which reminds me, does anybody want to go to Hiroki88@ Dempsey ? Might take me a year to save up, but I do think it'll be worth it!

Turning out Quite as Expected

I had been waiting in keen anticipation for Elementary 2 to commence and amidst looking through my verb sheets and character charts, came up with several things which I was expecting would occur during the duration of this class.

1. We would be facing off with a much more well-informed and studious bunch.

That was definitely the case. In fact, I should not even have guessed that this would happen. It was practically given by the fact that here we are sitting amongst individuals who are like-minded enough to part with another $200 for an external course which requires more than just 3 hours of your time a week, on top of school/work etc. Point to note: This scenario could only get more intense as the levels progress.

2. ドラマ 2 would unfold.

A sequel to ドラマ 2, with the same protagonist headlining each scene. But what surprised me was the fact that the female lead was cast so soon, having bewitched the protagonist with her curled brown locks and look-alike features. Would she have a look-alike personality to boot? The ドラマ is unfolding bit by bit.

3. (OK, this one I did not anticipate to encounter in class itself) Someone doesn't want to talk to me anymore

Not that we flocked together to begin with, but a certain individual who has been heralded as an elite, pruned and trimmed and fed lovingly by the government, through us mere mortals' coffers, to groom more of his kind, has given me a distinctly colder shoulder.

And what's the reason for his increasingly disenchanted conversation (or rather, snippets of thought exchange)? Simply because I deal with a discipline that does not involve something that he would die without. This 'something' has a rather fat bottom and streamlined top and is caressed every so often by his scholarly hands. It would be an inconceivable, horrifying thought that someone like me does not hold it close to my eye to read the tattoos that curve around its physique or place it in a heated environemtn and wait for its juices within to boil over. Blasphemy! How could I not love a beaker the way he does! So yes, even the common interest in 日本語 and goodness, a common profession (for now at least), cannot make up for the lack of beaker love, and that explains the unwillingness to even meet his brilliant eyes with mine, even for a second!

The only reason I did not anticipate this to encounter in class itself was simply because I was not expecting to meet this pruned elite in this class, thinking that his bookworm driven instincts would have propelled him to sign up for an earlier class which would all the more quickly enhance his almighty brain.

Oh how I love this class, now, to sort out the administrative matters for the exam.

Lolita

I have chewed up every morsel from the Devil's Larder and if all goes according to plan, I shall be land my hands on Lolita tomorrow.

Ok, we're taking it a step deeper, beyond Kamikaze Girls and Baby, the Stars Shine Bright. Will this Russian literary masterpiece be able to unravel more insight into the world of dollies and lace?

Poisonous Food

The vocation in which I am having my current internship has a self-imposed invisible rule that requires me to take work home and is not leaving me with much free time. But I have been taking out snippets of half hour breaks from my 'work from home' time to indulge in a passion which I know would most probably be warped once August arrives - reading. Now, free of the rigidity of reading titles handed out on a piece of paper, I have the liberty of selecting what I want to read and hence my choice for Jim Crace's The Devil's Larder.

The process of devouring each of the 64 dishes with relish has left an aftertaste that has poisoned me into seeing the world in terms of food. It was with such food smeared lenses that I celebrated Samuel's birthday yesterday. Despite the lovely company and the immense fun we had with the KTV (I can't believe I'm actually buying into another Japanese craze), my main course @ Pasta de Waraku could only be described as poisonous. The melted fusion of sweet curry and cheese on the Okonomiyaki starter warmed the palate, but eventually soothed it so much that the clash of wasabi cream pasta with bacon and oyster came as a rancid shock.

I admit I only chose the combination 'wasabi cream' over more palate friendly sounding names like 'miso cream' or 'original cream' for the matter simply because I once read an article of an Italian chef (authentic pasta here!) bemoaning the fact that Asians request for the 'shocking' combination of spicy with cream. Japan - land of all things innovative - I really had to see for myself how they managed this blasphemous Orientalization of Cabonara (which, by the way, is an Americanization of Italian pasta).

The $14.80 heap of noodles arrived with a beautifully poached egg perched on top. I remember how I started. I scooped a bit of the part gelatinous, delicate albumen, coated it with the offending cream and took a bite. I remembered repeating the phrase 'a taste of innovation' to myself. I mean, if you choose to partake of the innovations from the country that gave you Kimchi Calpis, Bilk, Boy Lolitas and Uruha, you'd better psyche yourself to be shocked in al ways possible. So I ate of this innovation with almost mechanical emotions, and was met with a childhood memory inducing nostalgia when I chomped on a soft oyster which innards burst out of its rubbery coating and homogenized with the wasabi cream. Cod Liver Oil. The horrors!

And yes, I did finish the entire plate. While the experience with wasabi cream was certainly an exercise with exerting the mind over matter, the few morsels of curry meat sauce pasta that I nipped off Jie's plate proved to be a heavenly case of Japanization that would compel me to go back for more!

And speaking of food. I am of the opinion that cheese should be confined as a topping on pasta and pizza, sandwiched between 2 slices of bread or cubed and speared with grapes as an appetizer. If there's anything that cheese does not go well with, its with words.

Exams!

I sometimes have impulse reactions. Those moments where I do something, from something, because of something, which cannot be explained. My kneejerk reaction to an impending event of catastrophic nature, particularly those events which require a huge amount of brain work, speedy pen strokes, rapid thought firing, all within legible handwriting and organized paragraphs in a cold room - is to snack.

Best snack ever: Pocky.
This is a close runner up.
And this was my choice, paid for by Mum :D
A sweet ending to a meal of raw octopus today!

Sarah's Birthday!

Happy Birthday Sarah! I'm so happy I got to commemorate this day with you!

And here's what followed immediately after this shot was taken:

The other participants were a little less interested though:

And Thank you sarah for scouting out such a lovely place for us. Here's pictoral proof:

Even the card holder was authentically Turkish!
But all these were only a sneak preview of the gastronomic pleasures waiting to unfold. Sarah and I did the ordering, and this came first :

An assortment of chickpeas, tomatoes, mint leaves etc. pureed to a smooth consistency, meant to be slathered on this huge lavas.

And the next dish was nothing short of a surprise. I was cautious about ordering 'pizza' from a Turkish restaurant, having tortured my palate before with hamburgers from a chinese diner and (shudder) Italian Yoghurt from a road side bubble tea stall. And remembering how the hamburgers from the chinese diner turned out to be spherical white buns, I was even more skeptical when the pizza arrived boat-shaped. But, the cynic in me disappeared at a bite of melt-in-the mouth bread encasing warm melted cheese and tender lamb chunks. Here is the winning surprise:

This was followed by a dish called 'Imam [insert Turkish word here which would translate the dish's name as (the Imam fainted)]'. So why did he faint? Probably from the awesome stacks of eggplant, tomato puree and cheese.

It even came with a cute spoon.

And we could never step into a Turkish Restaurant without feasting on its Kebabs. So we ordered a platter.

This dish disproved the western style of consuming lamb: if it has been simmered to the point of succulent tenderness and when it emits the enchanting aroma of herb mixture, you don't need mint sauce!

And all this was washed down with mint tea and ice water (Sarah, Jean and I had the former of course!). The beverages were served with an interesting tray, and drunk from delicate pottery.

But of course it would not have been complete without the birthday cake!

Poor Germaine and Zah sawed and ploughed through the frozen hazelnut praline base, before serving up:

Sarah gave me the macaroon :)

And all this happened in Alaturka @ Arab Street. Perfect example of how there's so much of Singapore that we have yet to explore. Like, this shop:

Today's celebration shows the sweet benefits of leaving the car keys behind, boarding a random bus or taking the train, diving into unexplored lanes, feasting at quiet eateries which dish up the best foods, and with the best company :)

On a lighter note, Jie and I braved the Friday night Orchard Road crowds for the 鳩首fair. Everything was so buyable. But I always make the mental note to myself to exercise restraint whenever I step into a Japanese stall. So we left only with these:

But that restraint lost some of its inhibitions at 紀伊国屋。

What a wonderful day!

Dashes of Resignation

Something new happened today. I was caught in a special predicament, the kind in which all you want to do is lambaste somebody, only to find yourself with no expletives at your disposal simply because you want to avoid getting sued. I sure could have flamed her (that's a clue) on this platform, but Thou would not be pleased, won't Thee?

And I thought I had recovered from this incident faster than expected, only to reverse Time during レッスン。(An inside joke really, only せんせい and me know, though the former would not be pleased to know of how I altered the unmovable force of the universe with a simple misstrokes of pen on paper.)

Quick, silver lining:

Ok.

Unsavoury Bird's Nest

So that was what I had for dinner yesterday. Kudoes to Dad's culinary skills, speciality being the art of turning the simplest of foods into the tastiest of morsels, using the simplest equipment. This corn was simply plucked from the chiller, seasoned with pepper and salt, steamed over some careful timing, and was as delicious as ever.

And today we were slapped with a shock. I still cannot put a finger on how those mynahs squeezed through a hole so small, carted along with them so many twigs and plastic substances, sanitary pads inclusive, to create a mess so huge it reeked of rotting vegetation. Pictoral Evidence as follows:



This was only the bottom half.



And here's the top.



And they even found time to spawn. That white spherical object, above the lump of plastic, is actually a hatched egg.

As if finding this mess in my grandma's house (where we used to live) was not a shocking enough surprise, the process of finding used sanitary pads, plastic sheets, feathers and live cockroaches pop up amidst the heaps of twigs as we cleared the stinking mess had to be interrupted by the false homeowners aka the mynahs, launching an assault on the house. So yes, while Dad continued to scrape through the heap and Jie and I rushed to close the windows (seal all possible routes of entry!), the only word that ran through my mind was - hitchcock.

I was not exaggerating. What kind of birds take over your house at such an alarming rate and even leave warnings to mark their presence?

A cockroach with its innards ripped out, shell left behind intact. Remember those movie scenes where the protagonist walks into the killer's home only to find a skull? Yes, that was it.

So after 30mins of cleaning and fending rabid mynahs, the house was restored to its proper human-habitating status again.

I cannot stand to have the post end this way.

This is better!

Spending Sorrows

For the longest time I could not comprehend why people, particularly members of the fairer sex, lived by the mantra, 'when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping'. Today I learned why.

After being branded (by another member of the family) a 'bad, self-centred sister' who 'does not know how to sacrifice' and 'makes a big deal out of going out', I decided to accompany my older sister to HMV.

And boy, was spending therapeutic. I can now boast to have a tangible copy of Fool's Mate in my hands. No need to wait till I fly to Tokyo to get it.

There was food as well, and I was so happy to indulge in Pretzels from

Instant influx of memories from my childhood Orchard Road visits. I recall I used to eat the plain ones, and slurped up with relish every drop of the crushed ice + colouring combination daylight robbery drink. I skipped the latter this time, but I walloped almost every single bit of this:

Sugar Rozette Pretzel in a Rosy Maroon shade (yeah a very lame description, but at least its accurate and better sounding than bruise-coloured?). The pretzel dough was as tender as ever and the sugar coating exploded with a combination of sweet and sour. In fact, when I looked carefully at the sugar pile which accumulated at the bottom of the paper packet, I discerned a mixture of dark purple sugar crystals and some kind of powder in a lighter shade. Worth every bit of the SGD$2.70, but sadly enough, such a pricing would not qualify it as a weekly snack.

And I felt so much better after all that consumption.

So that mantra was no mystery after all. Let me break it down into a simple formula:

Depression = need for happiness quick-fix = flock towards happy products = every reason to buy = spend on stuff you like = cheering up.

:)

Mistakes

The realization of a mistake can be so painful. Especially if many realizations hit you the moment you jolt out of slumber to the sounds of 'The Real Folk Blues'.

My alarm itself reminded me that I forgot to take another piece of the Cowboy Bebop OST yesterday (doing that now). And that instantly diverted my thoughts from snoozing the alarm to the fact that I had forgotten to upload several photographs to my latest blog post. So here they are:

Items from the furniture show. I actually do have another picture from the furniture show which I did not upload, but kinship ties have bound it forever to the depths of my D drive. Ah, there goes the saying 'blood is thicker than water'.

And since I've veered this narrative in the direction of 'digging up last sunday', I have now come to the realization that I have indeed forgotten another picture which I took that day. Oh how could I have forgotten the serendipitous だいそpurchase which taught me that this guy's name

is actually written as しゅえ. My sincere apologies to all hardcore ガルネイルスfans for brandishing him with the name 'Siew' (hey! I was reading it as 'syu'). From now on it shall be しゅえ　さま！

And here is the picture:

Ok enough of last Sunday. On to the mistake I made today. It occured after the morning jog + gym, waiting at Burger King for my appointment with the chiropractor, and manifested in the form of ice milo and chicken tenders.

The fat content was not the issue. The issue was the SGD $6.20 which I forked out for it. Why the thought DIY milo and chicken slipped my mind then? I have no idea.

But I did cheer up, thanks to the chiropractor who enlightened me about my malformed ribcage, potential risk of internal bleeding should I encounter some trauma to the trunk, unequilibrium in my shoulders, abnormal spine, then subjected me to some bone-cracking, neck snapping, muscle tearing positions to righten all the afforementioned. I shall have a proper skeletal structure in no time and have replicas of it displayed in every chiropractor's clinic.

And taking a walk deep within the heart of Tanjong Pagar yields gems!

So Mum, Jie and I carted home muffins, chewy cream puffs, and had mini cream puffs which oozed with chocolate cream to snack along the way.

It is Day 2 into recess week and I have succeeded with seiving out the quirky details of everyday life, my homework list might just have collected some dust.

Charge to the bleak house now!

And so it Rained

Today, the West fell victim yet again to the type of rainfall that can only be termed 'oxymoron'. You know, the kind where it sprinkles for a while, and when the clouds dry up, the remnants from the sprinkle remain hanging in the atmosphere such that it gets even more humid after that. Imagine sweating at an intensity which rivals the frequency of the preceeding rainfall. But that was not the worse that the rain brought about anyway.

For some strange reason, I remembered to run out to the balcony to bring in the rack of towels, have in the clothes stand and shut the sliding door, but it totally slipped my mind to check on lilbro john's room. So, it was only some 10minutes into the downpour when I went over to his room to get some plain paper, that I noticed that the rain had drenched anything within the vicinity of his open window.

Bed Inclusive.

What followed next was a series of helter skelter that begin with me shutting the windows tight, Jie mopping up the puddles which had formed on the surface of his books, boxes, helmet, football, and me rushing back from our room with a fan and hairdryer for the bed.

A couple of hours, 2 extension plugs for the fan, and a broken down hairdryer, and the room was back in shape. And since lilbro john, if I may quote him, 'don't care even if you have a blog or whatever you write on it'. He probably would never find out anyway. This episode shall just be filed under 'perspectives'.

I can almost hear the chorus of 'what a horrible sister' and 'how could you forget about your brother's room'. Yes plaintiffs, in my defence, may I propose that, on the basis of my background as a musician who actually studied that subject for my damn O and A levels and went through 3 instruments and numerous concerts, I am qualified enough to say that this:



Is simply too engaging for me to prise the headsets out of my ears and peel my butt of the chair, come rain or shine, flood or hurricane, tornado, etc. Case Closed. That aside, I blame Benedryl for plunging me into a 12 hour slumber the night before. That half a day long comatose just means half a day less of time to complete this:

One of the things written under the last section (MISC) is actually 'gym + swim everyday' (so long as other commitments do not interfere!). And while I would gladly rise at 730am, or earlier, everyday throughout a holiday week just to hit the gym and pool while still being able to start work at 10am, I can foresee being potentially hindered by something, (no I'm not swearing I mean it literally) bloody.

I have not been able to work my way around it despite having to deal with it for years, and more years to come. And for that, I simply salute professional swimmers, marine biologists, synchronized swimmers (basically any woman who has to enter water on a regular basis), for their resilience against bloody, messy outcomes.

Anyway, it appears that I have one more day to let the blood run dry, considering that Monday has already been packed with appoinments. I hope for a gore-free Tuesday to pound the pavement.

Edit: Those insanely good musicians are from ガルネイルス. Had to add the 'All Things Japanese' Label.

Back on the Run

I'll be back to my usual routine from tomorrow onwards. Thank God for these 4 days of rest (read: slacking), but now that my furtive glances to the right (at the computer clock) also allow me to catch glimpses of my stack of school books, I am inadvertently reminded that time is running out. Time for what? Let's devide 'what' into 2 phases : The short term - assignments, readings. The Long Term - Family, Friends, Health, God (Oh God!), Vocation (damn. Scholarship please!)

And I've added another goal to my concurrent list. This time, its about managing my finances better. Budget each meal, for health reasons as well. Throw some into the mandatory forced savings scheme (otherwise known as C..)? Why not. It'd be good to have some dough for a house, paying Dad back for my 4 years in NTU, and just in case I develop some lipomas again (oh god forbid.)

Oh, the night draws to a close and the world slips into the hands of dawn. How about a sleeping buddy?
Heck felines, I want a male sleeping buddy too!

Butchered Meat!

Its on everybody's facebook, blogspot, livejournal, (insert name of other personal webspace). Chinese New Year Pics!
I have tagged those relevant snapshots in my facebook account (which, I must say, I have become increasingly addicted to) and, also because I find the act of switching on my bluetooth too troublesome, shall leave this blog post for the very interesting account of being butchered alive.

So yes, I was slit open on an operating table in the Ambulatory Surgery Centre @ SGH. Thanks to 3 stabs of LA from syringes with long needles, I was spared the pain of the butchering, and was left only to feel myself being cut open, the warm blood trickling down my back, and the tugging and pulling of the damn lipoma out of my back.

But I did feel the full effect of the butchering when the LA ran out halfway, and miraculously managed to maintain enough composure to spell out "Dr (name withheld since he said so!), its starting to hurt, can I please have some more LA?" I must have consumed so much LA (think, 6 syringes?), but the wonderful medical team was every so obliging. I believe the reason I didn't even flinch or shed a tear throughout the entire operation was because I was under the care of the best team of surgeons and nurses there. Oh well, it pays to have connections, and a smile, and a sweet demeanour! I hope they like my Thank You Card.

In fact, the only 'extreme' emotion I displayed during the operation was laughter. I remember laughing so hard when the surgeon, having to pluck the remaining half of the lipoma from its tightly embedded spot, stuck his finger through the incision such that I could feel it rubbing against my ribs, causing more streams of warm blood to pour down my back. And it was ticklish!

I will be seeing my stitches today, after I remove the dressing. Thank you Surgeon for subcutaneous stitching, I shall see you for a steroid jab if (God Forbid, I end up with a kelloid).

I have suddenly been infused with an adrenaline high. The kind of adrenaline rush I get after I pound the pavement or hit the water. Which is a mystery, considering how the operation has left me confined within the walls of my apartment, trying to catch up with schoolwork and popping panadol in between for 3 days straight. This is good. I shall channel this energy into reading, studying, and doing other productive things like studying the language of ...

Ah ガゼット，for you I shall forsake the pursuits of an English Major and master the art of blogging in 日本語。

Attn: Sarah!

In celebration of double chocolate coated strawberries, brownies, delicious lasagne, and most of all, a friend who listens ever so patiently to my non-stop rambling on everything in the world, I will be dedicating this blog post to Sarah!

So, Sarah, I apologize if I have made you confused over my sexual orientation when I started displaying handsome 'guys' on my msn dp. I know I have said this before but just to clarify, they are indeed MEN (i.e. think : the yellow fruit), and they are men who I find attractive, to say the least.

Anyway, for a quick refresher, here is the first guy that I ever showed to you:
Here's Ruki, the lead singer of alternative metal Japanese band - Gazette. Wanna know how Gazette looks like?

Here you go:

Ruki, by the way, is in the middle. You'd probably think that I regard Ruki as the most handsome of all the 5 of them (yes, keep reminding yourself that they are Men!), but actually, no. My personal favourite is actually the drummer, Kai (who is the 2nd from the right in the above photo). I know he doesn't look very good in this picture, but hey, look at this one:

I think he actually looks better without make up, cause removing all that layers of white powder revelas his oh-so-divinely good killer cheekbones. Seriously, he may be male but I won't mind having a face structure as awesomely modelesque as that.

Another piece of eye candy has to be Uruha, the electric guitarist. He's the one on the utmost right, and a close up looks something like:

This has made me conclude, rather naively though, that if I were born a male, I swear I'd be gay.

Ok Sarah, I hope you understand 'my type' now :) And till I see you on Wednesday,

Cheers!