watch this space!

New Zealand South Island Vacation in pictures

2006-06-24T06:39:00.000+08:00

Snowboarding on Mt Hutt

Us and our Burton snowboards

Trekking on Franz Josef Glacier

View of Mt Cook from Lake Matheson (pirated version)

Sunset at Lake Wanaka

Flying the flag proud on Milford Sound cruise

Stare-down with my garlic prawns at The Reef, Dunedin

Just do it - Silhouette shot at Moeraki Boulders

Die Another Day (pirated version) - notice extra appendages on Mayee's revolver

Can't get enough of them Moeraki Boulders...

NZ winter holiday draws to a close *sob*

Check out the rest of the photos at Photobucket

Stop spamming my bitch-board!!!

2006-02-13T21:41:00.000+08:00

Argh...my bitch board's become a repository for blog-spam!! No, i do not wish to invest in Faceprint Global Solutions, let alone care about what that company does; No, i do not wish to purchase fragrances that Sarah Jessica Parker likes (why on earth would I want to smell like her in the first place???); and what the hell are JDM headlights??? GRRR....

Though i guess i could not have expected anything less, having neglected my blog for HALF A YEAR now. Frankly, I'm downright appalled by the current level of discipline I have. How do other gainly employed persons find the time for their blogs every day, I wonder. Is there a daily activity in which I engage that I can dedicate less time to? Showering 5min less perhaps, maybe taking short lunch breaks, coming back from work a little earlier. No prizes for guessing which of the three would be my preferred choice. No prizes either for guessing which one is the least feasible.

Took a day-off today. The immense joy felt upon waking up on a workday, only to realise you don't have to frantically change into workwear, gobble down breakfast and compete with rush-hour traffic, is truly ineffable. Definitely need to take my days-off.

Treated myself by getting a new tennis racket at Queensway - the N-Code N-Vision. Also got new tennis balls, spanking new tennis bag, some workshirts and socks. Retail therapy is da bomb!

Mountain breeze

2005-07-05T22:14:00.000+08:00

The interior of my car has been infused with a sickening, smothering odour of late. You see, I purchased an air freshener two days ago at a Shell kiosk, one of those that you clip on the air-con vent so that the (supposed) fragrance can be carried by the streams of air and circulate freely within the vehicle. The freshener even has a thoughtful little adjustable dial which allows me to choose my desired fragrance strength. Sounds wonderful, no?

Only problem is, the "fragrance" reeks. As Ken rightly pointed out in a fit of laughter (maybe I misconstrued it as laughter - he might have been convulsing in reaction to the odour), it smells like someone who just chewed several globs of fruity gum (grape and berries) threw up in my car. It has this overbearing saccharine scent to it which hits you as soon as you set foot into the car.

And I had even made sure at the kiosk that the smell was pleasant before i purchased it. It had one of those scratch n' sniff stickers at the corner of the packaging for you to...err...scratch and sniff the fragrance before you buy it. The one I got was described as "Mountain Breeze" (which I chose over the other two available: "Wild Berries" and the overly imaginatively named "New Car"). I swear the fragrance my nose was greeted with as I scratched n' sniffed the sticker had absolutely no bearing to the nefarious odor that plagues me as I enter my car now. I feel rather cheated, really. Especially when, each time I catch a particularly potent whiff of the odor as I drive, the first two words that pop into my mind are SO not "mountain" and "breeze". More like "Bubblegum Puke". Now THAT should have been on the packaging.

Though since I've already paid 6 bucks for it, I guess I'll just have to get used to it and wait till "Mountain Breeze" grows on me.

And so ends Wimbledon season...

2005-07-03T23:21:00.000+08:00

As expected, Roger Federer, true to his market-spoiling form, wins Wimbledon for the third consecutive time, joining tennis greats like Bjorn Borg and Pete Sampras (who was such a great tennis great that he performed the feat twice: in total, he won the tournament 7 times!). What was a little surprising for me was how one-sided the affair was. There was no contest. At all. When Roddick threw in a kitchen sink, he got back a Whirlpool king-size refrigerator complete with ice-maker. Federer's simply untouchable. Now that Wimbledon season is over, I've got to wait till the US Open starts in September. Boo. Hopefully there'll be some good tournaments leading up to the last grand slam of the year.

Went roaming around Orchard with cousin today after church in the morning. I was going to get Amartya's Sen new book "The Argumentative Indian" about the art of argument in the subcontinent, but since it's only available in hardcover at the moment it costs over 60 bucks!! So I settled on Gurcharan Das' "The Elephant Paradigm", a series of essays about how India evolved in the 90s. Halfway through the first chapter. A pretty promising read so far.

Also browsed through Zara, Topshop and Tangs but did not find anything to my taste. Is it just me or are the guy's clothes in these stores starting to get increasingly 77th street-ish? Couldn't believe how totally ah-beng some of the items were with their obiang colours and shimmery material. What's going on?!? What happened to nice men's wear?

Time to be lulled to sleep by Conan.

Poor Lindsay...

2005-07-03T01:01:00.000+08:00

It was fitting that the best ladies' singles match came right at the end during the final between Davenport and Venus Williams. Boy, was that one stressful match to watch! Especially if you were rooting for the underdog Davenport like I was. If you had a heart, you had to root for her: she hasn't won a grand slam since 1999 (yet amazingly she has manages to cling on to the no.1 spot)! Plus she's been thinking of retiring soon. A victory at Wimbledon would have been the perfect parting gift.

Alas it was not to be. A shame since Lindsay wasn't playing badly at all. Venus just outplayed her. Lindsay had so many opportunities to edge ahead during the match, but time and time again Williams was able to step up her game and come right back. More power to her.

The men's final is just as, if not more, promising. Hope Roddick wins: Federer wins way too much. A true-blue market-spoiler he is.

Back from Delhi

2005-07-02T01:54:00.000+08:00

All in all, it was a very eventful trip with several unforgettably surreal moments, such as when FM offered half his dosa to me at breakfast, and when I got to sit at the same table as PM at the Sheraton. Needless to say I was extremely star-struck and proceeded to knock over a glass of wine after I had introduced myself to him. Doh!! Thankfully none of it fell on him. Now THAT'd have been a true disaster...

Also got to be the helper at a treaty signing, whose key role was to point at the space where FM was supposed to sign. ALMOST knocked over the ink blotter which for some reason had been placed precariously right at the edge of the table but managed to skilfully avert near-crisis.

Looking forward to my next working trip!

Delhi belly

2005-06-27T22:24:00.000+08:00

I leave for Delhi tomorrow evening for three days, armed with charcoal tablets and assorted anti-diarrhoea pills. The warnings I've been hearing from people about the water and general hygiene are getting me really paranoid, so even if I don't get a tummy upset from the food I'll probably induce one myself psychologically. Considered bringing own mineral water from Singapore but dismissed the thought since it'd have been too heavy.

This is gonna be my first trip there. So NOT looking forward to wearing a suit and tie in the 40 degree heat. Only bringing one suit (only HAVE one!) so I'll probably be all stinky after the first day, but I'll draw comfort from the knowledge that most others will be stinky together with me. The funny thought of taking a quick shower at Sonia Gandhi's or Vajpayee's residence crossed my mind a few days ago.

The program's jam-packed with calls and visits and luncheons. Will be doing two note-takings, one of which will be at a lunch event where I will be taking notes while people (except me) are eating. As if the sight of people having their scrumptious lunch isn't torture enough, I'll have to make out what people are mumbling about as they eat. Have also been assigned to be Minister's "minder" (read: trip slave). I won't get the chance to see the Taj Mahal this time round. That'll prob have to wait till FSBP in Sept.

Wimbledon starts tomorrow!

2005-06-19T23:01:00.000+08:00

Yay!!!

Hard day's night

2005-06-18T10:52:00.000+08:00

Taking notes for Minister wasn't as traumatic as had imagined, though the trouble came unexpectedly from having to decipher the visitor's garbled, barely audible speech. Have to work on keeping paper-rustling and distracting shifting in seat to a minimum.

We had resolved not to let the night degenerate into yet another poker night. Little did we know how weak we were. After work, we had dinner and margaritas at Cafe Iguana *cold shiver down spine*, after which we adjourned to Rouge for girlie drinks and Shirley's (cool with her Sassoonish asymmetric bob) set 1 of 3. No prizes for guessing what transpired thereafter.

I set the record for the highest ever winnings so far ($13.10)! We played till 4am. Thoroughly enjoyable with "bonking" jokes and YJ's cantonese lady impersonations.

as the monsoon brings much needed rain and relief....

2005-06-16T21:31:00.000+08:00

Dinner plans fall through yet again (you know who you are....*evil eye*). All the better: managed to drag myself to the Bedok gym to work off that wicked chocolate peanut butter milkshake I had at lunch.

Today I learnt I do not possess the gift of speech-writing. The toast speech I came up with was totally reworked and overhaulled by my supervisor into "warmer", "friendlier" mini-paragraphs replete with priceless gems like "as the monsoon brings much needed rain and relief, the CECA will create jobs for a million Indians". Told a colleague on the Middle East desk I was perhaps too cynical to come up with such stuff. He retorted that everyone in my ministry was cynical, but one just had to learn how to compartmentalize our cynicism and not let it affect our ability to produce heart-warming and cheery prose.

Taking notes for Minister tomorrow! That should be fun...not.

Further to my earlier post...

2005-06-15T20:42:00.000+08:00

It feels really strange to get back to blogging after a few weeks of not having done so, but I decided to try to keep this site going and prevent it from falling into obsolescence. So I'll try to post an entry at least once a week.

I started work two and a half weeks ago at the South Asia Desk in MFA. When I learnt from my director on my third day that I was already to tag along on PM's visit to New Delhi at the end of this month, I anticipated to be put through a "baptism of fire" in the following weeks. So far that hasn't happened (mercifully!) and the pace of work has been most manageable. My work so far has mainly involved drafting minutes to other ministries concerning various issues, writing third-party notes to foreign embassies in Singapore, note-taking at meetings and writing submissions making proposals to my higher masters. Of course there come along random assignments like interviewing a former Perm Sec (on a Sat at that!) for the ministry's commemorative book and doing research on appropriate hi-tech gifts which symbolize India-Singapore economic collaboration for PM Manmohan Singh. At the moment we're busy putting together stuff for the PM visit like the press statement, briefs, speeches, etc.

I'm gradually picking up civil service/MFA speak: "further to my earlier email", "Desk will revert to Mission on this", "For your necessary action, pls". And the acronyms, the veritable shibboleth of the civil service tribe: PPS to PM/MM/SM, SA/M, 2PS, PSO, HCG, NRA. My designation itself is a string of three: 2CO/SA/SAA. See if you can figure it out. [Reminds me of a hilarious skit on an episode of Conan I caught yesterday where Conan says T.G.I.F. (Thank God It's Friday), upon which "God" appears and retorts Y.W.S.G.(You're welcome sincerely God). The two then engage in a funny conversation with God answering only in abbreviations! LOL]

All in all a good start to working life. More updates to come.

Paddlepop!

2005-05-18T22:32:00.000+08:00

Made my way back to the Italian Cultural Institute in ulu Thomson this morning to have a chat with the instructors. I was informed that I had aced the placement test and had not made a single mistake! Now I know for a fact this couldn't be true because I had messed up some of the passato remoto and the "purche', sebbene, perche'" section, but still how could I argue with an Italian teacher, right? So I just stood there, smiled and questioned politely: "Davvero?" ("Really?") The friendly female teacher next told me I already knew all of the grammar that was covered in the advanced level classes, and suggested I sit in one session to see if I get bored out of my mind. So that's what I'm doing this Saturday. Oh, and apparently I've got a "carino" ("charming") French accent when I speak Italian. Those Italian ladies sure know how to butter you up.

Gave my two CDAC kids two cloze passages to do, one on marine life in sea abysses, and another on the exploration of the planet Venus. I must say I quite enjoy teaching cloze passages, going through each answer, offering them (what I hope are) helpful tips, and seeing their faces light up at moments when they get me or when they think of the correct answer after my occasionally convoluted guidance. Treated them to paddlepops and wafer icecream sandwiches after that on account of their general improvement in their CAs.

Engrish is the best medicine

2005-05-15T12:22:00.000+08:00

Alas, I have succumbed to the dastardedly flu bug. Stayed home last night to watch the Hamburg Open semis, The Italian job on HBO for the second time and Amityville Horror on my comp (which turned out to be totally unscary B-grade crap). Trying to download House of Wax but it's stuck at 99.9%. WHY is the last 0.1% refusing to budge, why?!? Apparently Paris Hilton gets killed in a most amusingly graphic fashion...

Discovered this priceless site this morning courtesy of an army friend. Welcome to the world of engrish! Entertainment guaranteed. Check out Coco Lee's crack sandwiches, endearingly rude T-shirts and shop names.

io fui, tu fosti, lui fu

2005-05-12T20:20:00.000+08:00

Got my pink IC back yesterday. Woohoo! =) Toyed with the idea of changing the photo of me in primary school with my most uncool plastic glasses and nerdy grin, but learnt that it'd set me back 60 bucks to do so. So much for that.

Took the language placement test at the Italian Cultural Institute located in United Square this morning. It wasn't that difficult, though I was taken aback by the questions involving il passato remoto (the remote past) which I had refused to revise the week before, thinking that there was only a very remote (hee) possibility of being tested on it. Lo and behold, it was in the test! Il passato remoto is one of those useless tenses that should simply be phased out. Along with il congiuntivo and all its forms. Hmph. Now I await the call of one of the professors to assess my spoken ability. Yikes.

Also finally got down to watching the Enduring Love DVD which I had bought in KL months ago. It's based on an Ian McEwan novel of the same title which I read back in JC. It's a stalker movie about a teacher who finds himself mercilessly harassed by a man who's convinced they were meant for each other. I like how British movies always seem to have the same actors in them. This one stars Samantha Morton (Agatha, the pre-cog in Minority Report), Rhys Ifans (Hugh Grant's goofy roommate in Notting Hill) and Bill Nighy (most remembered for the Christmas-is-all-around song in Love Actually; also played Viktor the vampire elder in Underworld). Rather engrossing and beautifully shot.

Day 5 - Tsukiji Fish Market, Ueno Park, Roppongi Hills, Harajuku part 2

2005-05-10T23:17:00.001+08:00

Today we embarked on an ambitious plan to cover all the sights we hadn't seen in one day.

First stop: Tsukiji Fish Market (which incidentally was in the news yesterday: apparently tourists are no longer allowed at the wholesale auctions that take place in the wee hours of the morning because they are too disruptive). At the market, we bumped into a big group of elderly French tourists from our hotel. I overheard one of the french ladies making a rather asinine remark to her husband while pointing to stacks of soy beancurd: "C'est quoi, là? C'est du fromage? Du beurre?" ("What's that? Is it cheese? Butter?")

Man slicing fish

Huge octopuses (octopi?)

Second stop: Ueno Park, where the National museum, art gallery and zoo are located. It was also at the Ueno subway station where I rediscovered the joys of shopping at the GAP, an experience I had all but forgotten since I came back from the US. Overfriendly sales assistant who insisted on practising his engerish on me ("How you doing? Find anything you liked? Need me to find size?")

Ueno park: oasis of serenity in Tokyo's urban desert

Shrine we encountered along the way

Washing my hands with holy water spewing out from a dragon's mouth

Third spot: Roppongi. A posh new district with swanky shops and contemporary art exhibitions.

Louis Bourgeois' alfresco spider sculpture outside Roppongi Hills

United Buddy Bears exhibit. Couldn't find the Singapore bear sadly

No prizes for guessing which bear this was

Harajuku kids in a world of their own

Day 4 - Shinjuku, Harajuku, Shibuya (on our own)

2005-05-10T22:50:00.000+08:00

Today the guided tour ended and we bade farewell to our guide Xiao-chuan at Narita Airport. We then took a shuttle to Prince Hotel in Sunshine City, Ikebukuro, where we left our bags. We proceeded to explore Tokyo by ourselves armed with what turned out to be an extremely useful Lonely Planet guide I had borrowed from the library before coming.

First stop: 福助 ramen restaurant. It's an eatery version of the ubiquitous $10, 10min haircut shops that have sprouted all across Singapore. Here, we select what dish you want on a vending machine, pop in money and get issued a ticket which you then hand to the restaurant hands who proceed to serve the dish up in less than a minute. No fuss, no frills. I loved it! The dishes were priced around 600-800 yen (1000yen = S$15).

Lunch at 福助 ramen restaurant

After lunch, we took the subway to Shinjuku, where we visited a few of the huge department stores like Takashimaya, as well as a quaint sidestreet near the redlight district called Piss Alley lined by yakitori shops and watering holes.

Me and sis at Piss Alley in Shinjuku

Next stop: Harajuku, Tokyo's heart of art and fashion. This is where strangely clothed youth hang out from Goths to ganguro girls (excessively tanned, bleached hair look) to girls in little bo-peep getups. Also saw quite a number of black hiphopsters with hiphop clothing stores. We also walked along Omotesando, Tokyo's answer to Paris' Champs Elyses, where grand facades of haute couture labels line the entire street.

Mum, me and sis along Takeshita St, Harajuku

Dinner at the Curry 研究所 at Shibuya which served curries from around the world. I had some non-descript English vegetable curry which tasted suspiciously like Jap curry. Wasn't cheap, but food and ambience were pretty good.

After dinner, I unilaterally (and characteristically whimsically) decided that we were going on a quest for statue of Achiko the dog. Apparently a professor that lived in Shibuya during the 1920s kept a Akita dog which waited for him to return everyday without fail at the station, even after its owner died in 1925. We had quite a bit of trouble finding Achiko, but finally caught sight of it hidden amidst a sea of umbrella-wielding people waiting fof their friends. I gather from that it's a popular meeting spot.

Woof!

Me and umbrella in Shibuya

Day 3 - Tokyo Disneyland

2005-05-09T12:36:00.000+08:00

On the third day, we were sentenced to an entire day in the nightmarish confines of Tokyo Disney-hell. We arrived there at 10am and were told that the coach would only be coming back at 6.50pm to pick us up. Eek.

Tokyo Disneyland is a full-on assault on one's senses, what with the garishly coloured facades, the incessant blaring of Disney tunes and the amalgam of smells (popcorn, pizza, fries) that waft through the air.

My sis and I decided to give Space Mountain a go. To tell you the truth, I was rather jittery: the last time I took a ride on a roller coaster was back in year 2 in Magic Mountain during the Harmonics Spring Tour in LA. It was a long 45min wait before we could finally get on. Along the line were several "escape pods" for people who chickened out during the wait. The ride itself was an adrenaline rush, but a little anti-climactic because the drops weren't that high.

For lunch, we had a pizza and a couple of sandwiches. My sister sort of messed up the order so we ended up with this lunchbox fashioned after Mickey Mouse's head which we had to lug around the rest of the day. Pretty cute though. The pizza was also the same shape!

We took alot of rides: the Bear Jamboree which involved stuffed bears singing and dancing to the blues, Pinocchio's Daring Adventure Ride, Haunted Mansion (overdone and thus not scary at all), Pirates of the Caribbean boat ride. More noteworthy was "It's a Small World" sponsored by SOGO, which involved a boat ride through tunnels filled with wooden children dolls clad in world costumes with the song "It's a Small Small World" on repeat. I swear any more than 5 minutes on that ride would drive anyone crazy.

"It's a Crazy, Crazy World"

These are the rows of prams just outside the Small World ride.

There were a couple of parades throughout the day. These are shots of the one we caught.

revelrous Japanese dancers trying hard to entertain the crowd

The Lilo and Stitch float. Stitch is one ugly bastard.

We saw these furry ears on many ecstatic Japanese girls.

This man has passionate moments according to his T-shirt. Wasn't having one when I took this shot.

Day 2 - Hakone and Mt Fuji

2005-05-09T10:29:00.002+08:00

This was how I spent most of the second day - knocked out on the coach. After a hearty breakfast on the 25th floor of our hotel, we started our long 3-hour journey to Hakone, a Sausalito-like area with picturesque mountains and lakes. En route, we made a pitstop at a giant rest stop called "Hello Square" which sold all kinds of food. We came across a whole line of vending machines which were fitted with video screens.

When we finally arrived at Hakone, we boarded a kitschy pirate ship and traversed a lake called Ashino-ko.

Behind me you can see the Japanese-looking Singaporean couple. The lady had Ayumi Hamasaki-like wavy bleached tresses.

Our first bento lunch. Most satisfying.

We reached the "Fifth Station" at the base of Mt Fuji (about 6.3km from the summit) in the late afternoon, where we took some amazing shots.

And another...

Mt Fuji framed by the branches of one of the few sakura trees still in bloom.

Thereafter, Xiao-chuan brought us to an onsen or hot spring. It was quite an experience. We each purchased a tiny towel for 100 yen which we held strategically to cover our private parts (often to no avail). Little did I know that towel was also meant for us to dry off after we finished. So there I was after the bath, naked and soaked to the bone with a wet towel. I maintained my composure, sneaked off to the sauna and stayed there just long enough to dry off without breaking a sweat. Brilliance!

We then adjourned to Hotel Narito for a delicious nabe dinner.

Day 1 - Asakusa, Ginza and Tokyo Tower

2005-05-09T09:57:00.003+08:00

Upon arriving at Narita, we were hurriedly shuttled to our first stop in our touch-and-go ANA Tokyo Tour, Asakusa, the entertainment centre of old and the heart of kabuki theatre. The highlight was Senso-ji, a Buddhist "Kanto" Shrine built by fisherman after they apparently discovered a small sculpture of a deity in the sea.

Our second stop was Ginza, where we had lunch at a Seoul-Gardenesque BBQ buffet restaurant called DON.K. We then strolled along Ginza street.

The street was closed to traffic because of the Golden Week holiday. That's in case you're wondering why we were happily posing for a photo right in the middle of the road.

We then headed off to the Tokyo Tower in the Roppongi area. Though apparently 3 metres taller than the Eiffel, it was nowhere as majestic. Its reddish-orange colour just made it look cheap and obiang. The shops inside were also a letdown. Tourist trap alert.

At about 3pm, we adjourned to the Crowne Plaza Metropolitan hotel to rest before dinner. It was there that I made the exciting acquaintance of the toilet with the automatic bidet/spray function. Sitting on it, I was inevitably reminded of the time in Europe on a train where my butt was assailed by icicles and jets of freezing air. *shudder*

Disappointing Chinese dinner near the hotel, followed by walk around Ikebukuro where the hotel was situated.

Tokyo mon amour

2005-05-09T09:19:00.000+08:00

So we missed the cherry blossoms, save a handful of trees still in bloom which we saw along the way from Tokyo to Hakone. Still, it was a great, thoroughly enjoyable vacation. Not least because of the stand-up comic we had as a guide, Xiao-chuan, who was a relentless barrel of laughs. She entertained us with hilarious anecdotes and random trivia. Did you know that Japanese give white packets during their new year? Or that Japan is the only country with both a Son and a Daughter Day? Or that many Japanese ladies are bow-legged?

Tokyo is an amazing city full of surprises. A few interesting observations I made:

- People on the street are in general extremely well-dressed.

- Guys are unabashed handbag-toters. Everyone seemed to have one slung over their shoulder.

- Given that probably everyone possesses a 3G cellphone, the city is strangely free of phone-related noise. We decided that they all must have considerately switched their phones to silent or vibration mode.

- The Japanese, both girls and guys, are indeed true-blue LV addicts. One guy I saw on the metro was completely decked out in LV paraphenalia.

- Japanese cleaning staff is very on-the-ball. This was especially the case in Disneyland, where you can rest assured that as soon as a morsel of food escapes your fingers and falls to the ground, a cleaner will be at hand with broom and dustpan to sweep it up immediately.

- Tokyo did not seem that cosmopolitan. There weren't as many angmohs there as in Taipei or Hong Kong, which was bizarre.

- Their toilets are awesome! Those in the newer shopping centres and hotels have automatic bidet/spray functions. If you're in luck, they'll also have temperature control to warm the seat as well as automatic deodorizers.

I'll be including a day-to-day account of our trip shortly. Stay tuned.

Me, Xiao-chuan, mum, sis and dad

Off to Tokyo!

2005-05-02T18:01:00.000+08:00

Flying off to Tokyo in a few hours for a family vacation. Hope we still can catch some (late-blooming) cherry blossoms. Will be back on Sunday.

Splurge!

2005-04-28T23:20:00.000+08:00

Finally got down to trying Restaurant Ember for lunch today with Jon G, a friend from camp. Ember is located along Keong Saik street, just next to the trendy 1929 hotel. Blew a whopping 40 dollars on the three-course set lunch. The soft-shell crab with wasabi aioli was tasty, but the portion was meagre. I had their famed lambshank as my main course. It looked deceiving small, but was actually quite filling. The meat must have been seasoned really long for each morsel burst with sweetness. Very well done. Had warm chocolate cake with vanilla bean icecream as dessert. Exactly like the one in Bakerzin, except a miniature version. All in all, a good meal but not worth the money it cost.

Two funny incidents happened that are worth mentioning. A couple sat themselves at the table next to us as we were eating and started browsing the menu. Jon G directed my attention to the centre of their table, where the butter dish was. I noticed the cube of butter was not there. It was then that I realized the cube of butter was stuck on the back of the menu that the man was reading! And it remained there for the longest time before the couple finally realized it. It was quite hilarious.

The second incident is only funny on hindsight. When it happened I was a little taken aback. I had asked for the lambshank bones to be doggiebagged for Russell. The waitress obliged, but returned with a most unglam red plastic bag, those you get from the market and those that I invariably use to pick up Russell's poop. "Sorry, this is the only bag we've got," she said apologetically. I was a little startled since I was expecting the bones to be packed in a box and contained in a bag with Restaurant Ember printed all over it in a artistic font. The last thing I was expecting was the kind of bag I usually associate with my pet's excrements. But I didn't fuss over it, smiled, replied that it was fine and proceeded to put the bag on the floor at my feet. It must have looked like I just picked up my dog's poop and decided to bring it into the restaurant. Real embarassing. As we got up to leave, I deftly covered the bag with my Life! and I.S. magazine.

Vindication

2005-04-26T12:47:00.000+08:00

So I made the long trip to Pasir Laba camp this morning to retake my CCT test this morning. On hindsight, I should have left earlier because by the time I arrived we were already 20 minutes late. As if that wasn't bad enough, HB, one of my signallers who was my habitual sparring partner, waited till I drove right up to the Pasir Laba camp gate to realize he had left his 11B back in Amoy Quee, which he needed to exchange for a camp pass. *DOH!* By then I was pretty much convinced I would not be taking the test today. Fortunately, we managed to avert the crisis by negotiating with the RSM.

When I entered the hall, all the equipment had been laid out neatly and the mats and table where the grader sat set up. I realized I was to be the only one taking the test. Sort of made me feel like a VIP. Great, I thought, noone to see me make a fool of myself. But after a quick revision and when the test was about to start, my feelings of exclusivity quickly evaporated, only to replaced by horror and dread as a host of SPT trainees and instructors filed in, apparently for a lesson that was to start in 15 min! It immediately brought to mind images from the movie Gladiator of wild-eyed spectators baying for blood. In any case, I kept my cool and passed the test without any problem at all. Though my sparring partner informed me I chipped off a bit of his tooth with one of my blows to his head. Thankfully he wasn't bleeding.

I don't feel I did anything that different from last week. I guess my moves packed a bit more venom in them, having harboured as much anger as I did for the past few days. Maybe my shouting was louder, or the fact that I was the only one shouting in an otherwise silent hall made it seem so. In any case, the important thing is IT'S ALL OVER.

bad bad day

2005-04-22T22:57:00.000+08:00

I got really pissed today. I've never been so angry nor felt so wronged for a long time. You see, we had our close combat training (CCT) grading this afternoon, and the grader - some middle-aged has-been who came up with the entire syllabus of all the moves -- decided to fail me on the first four techniques which happened to be the easiest and most basic of all. Not only was I not told on the spot that I did something wrong, which was what happened for some of the rest, but I was only informed after I executed all the moves and after the pugil-stick sparring, a unbelievably tiring 2-minute slugfest involving vigorous jousting and kicks which I swear shaved a few years off my lifespan. If I indeed failed the first portion, why allow me to go on to the second??? And why was I not given a chance to redo my techniques on the spot???

The worst thing is that I felt I executed all the moves well. Really well, in fact. I was shouting louder than I usually do and doing the throws faster and harder. As I watched the others before me go, I thought to myself this was going to be easy since those who were messing up their moves a little seemed to go unnoticed. I definitely performed better than those. I'm totally convinced they got the wrong guy and I'm the unlucky one that's got to suffer for this mix-up. Which is totally unfair.

So I kicked up a fuss and threw a slight tantrum, but to no avail of course. I bet my encik and S3 were shocked since they'd never seen me so flustered before. Encik being the nice guy that he is tried to console me and said something about the system and how it was no use going against it.

So now I've got to redo the entire test in the School of Physical Training located at, get this, Pasir Laba Camp on Tuesday.

I thought I could end off my NSF stint on a slightly happy note, or at least uneventfully. It's such a shame that this unpleasant incident had to happen on what was supposed to be my last day in camp. Inevitably, I was reminded of all the other bad unpleasant incidents that happened to me, not least of which my near-death experience in ECP.

It's official. I truly hate everything about the army.

And you thought "Brayden" was bad

2005-04-21T11:39:00.000+08:00

From today's URBAN. Apparently Claire Chiang, vice-prez of Banyan Tree resorts, named her three kids after, get this...trees: Birch, Cedar and, inevitably, Banyan. Maybe she was high on anaesthetic. Poor kids!!

Freddy the frog from Sungei Buloh

2005-04-21T01:14:00.000+08:00

I finally went for my first CDAC tutoring session tonight since I signed up as a volunteer two months ago. The Tampines CDAC tuition centre is a cosy establishment located in an HDB void deck just across the street from Tampines Central. There, I met the other three tutors: one who was a professional teacher in a secondary school, another a J2 student from VJ (an aspiring teacher) and the third a nature lover from the Singapore Environment Council (who handed out Green Map brochures, which showed all the nature areas in Singapore, after the session). I didn't know this, but apparently the CDAC pays an allowance of 10 dollars for each session a volunteer attends to cover food and travel expenses, an amount which more than covers my parking fees each time I go.

Tonight, I guided a Primary 4 kid through a cloze passage on Freddy the frog who lives in Sungei Buloh, and who has a cousin Frank in the city. It was tougher and required more patience than I thought it would, especially since the boy had a really limited vocabulary (and couldn't spell simple words like "nice"!). Resorted to explaining stuff in Chinese since that's the language he responded more to. The boy seemed to be struggling so much that I relented after about half an hour and let him read his Pokemon comics. I also guided a Primary 6 kid through another cloze, a rather morbid one on a grandfather that went missing for weeks and later discovered dead in a void deck.

After the two-hour session, the tutors stayed back to discuss a game plan to make the sessions more useful for the kids. The VJ student was enthusiastic about getting the kids interested in reading and had brought his Harry Potter books for the kids to borrow. Said he would bring his Enid Blytons next week. Apparently there's a "Mr Midnight" series that's pretty popular among the kids nowadays, though I've never heard of it. As for the environmentalist, he was all for getting the kids interested in current affairs, and had cited the example of telling the kids about the pope and who he was. I thought he was well-meaning, but let's be realistic here, was anyone ever interested in current affairs when they were in primary school? Hell no.

Headed back there this Sat for the math session.

I hear ya, Rob Wilco...

2005-04-20T15:16:00.000+08:00

I can so relate to today's Get Fuzzy (incidentally my favourite strip), especially with a super poop machine for a dog (and a double degree). Though I must say I definitely pick up after Russell more than "three times in two days".

Life of 3.14159265

2005-04-18T11:36:00.000+08:00

Yann Martel's Life of Pi tells the tale of a precocious Indian boy from Pondicherry who becomes lost at sea when the ship carrying his family to Canada sinks. Unlikely suspects accompany him on his lifeboat: an orang-utan, a hyena, a zebra and a Bengali tiger (three of whom prove rather ephemeral companions).

As I started reading Life of Pi, I mentally prepared myself for an inspirational Mitch Albom-esque tale, one of those that Oprah would wax rhapsodic about on her show. My spirit would be lifted, faith strengthened, and overall outlook on life rendered more positive. Boy, was I in for a rude shock.

The carnage that ensues in the second chapter, which chronicles Pi's fight for survival in the open waters of the Pacific, is a loud contrast to the tameness of the opening chapter describing Pi's life in Pondicherry. Nauseating scenes punctuate his castaway tale: the tiger decapitates the orang-utan and eats the hyena out alive with bloodlust; Pi, formerly vegetarian, butchers turtles and rends them apart, consuming their blood and their raw innards; in an act of desperation, Pi sticks a cup under the anal opening of the tiger, collects its faeces and pops it into his mouth with relish. These violent acts will undoubtedly prove thorny if ever this book were to be adapted into a movie (Incidentally, I caught Five People You Meet In Heaven the TV movie on the Hallmark Channel yesterday. Jon Voight was well-cast, I thought, but I found it amusing he plays a man who's estranged from his father, given his real-life problems with his daughter. Maybe it was an attempt to touch Angelina.)

All in all, I did not find the book inspirational, nor did it infuse in me renewed faith or more life meaning (surprise surprise). But I would read it again just to be jarred once more by Martel's masterfully graphic descriptions.

highs and lows of the day

2005-04-14T23:11:00.000+08:00

High point:

Burly European man compliments my shoes in Wheelock Place Zara store. *happy =) *

Low point:

Burly Australian woman mistakes me for sales staff in Takashimaya Square. *very sad =..(*

Cres leaves for three weeks

2005-04-12T23:05:00.000+08:00

Cres is leaving for the Philippines tomorrow for three weeks. We've already hired a domestic helper to drop by daily, but she's only starting a week from tomorrow, and only working mornings at that. I'm really dreading the weeks to come. Cres is the glue that keeps the Ho establishment in one piece! I'm gonna have to wash my own clothes and do my own ironing for awhile. Plus water the plants and feed the fish on the balcony (hope I remember the latter: don't want more fish blood on the hands of the Ho family). And apparently I've to wash the bathroom that my sis and I share on weekdays. *Gallic shrug*

2005-04-12T00:54:00.000+08:00

Cocu literally means "cuckold."
Hold your index fingers up next to your ears and wiggle them up and down.

Gestes français qui font pouffer de rire

2005-04-12T00:37:00.000+08:00

Brush up on those French gestures at this hilarious website. It really got me cracking up! Go perfect your Gallic shrug and French pout. My favourites are cocu (see pic above) and ça pue!.

Why Matthew McConaughey hasn't made the A-list

2005-04-11T23:30:00.000+08:00

From the NYT review of Sahara:

"While watching Sahara, I appreciated [McConaughey's] charming performance, but I also kept asking myself which particular quality on the checklist of essential superstar attributes might explain his inability so far to crack the magic circle and decided it must be his voice. His vocal twang may be a little too high and sharp and inflected with a Woody Harrelson whine for him to convey the unassailable gravitas of a mythic action hero."

Another reviewer offers an alternative explanation that's most amusing:

"Sahara proves that Matthew McConaughey's failure to make the big time is due to his inescapably rodential quality -- you always expect him to start gnawing on something."

*snigger*

beyond the limits of belief

2005-04-10T18:27:00.000+08:00

Caught the action adventure flick Sahara with Yanbin yesterday, the action adventure flick adapted from a Clive Cussler book starring Matthew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz, and directed by the son of the outgoing head of Disney Michael Eisner. Sahara is not to be mistaken with Samara, the sequel to the American version of The Ring. Having both films screen around the same time must undoubtedly cause much confusion. I'm pretty sure there'd be people that thought they had bought tickets for one but end up in the wrong theatre. Hee.

Sahara was pretty entertaining with its many explosive action sequences, but the movie strained credibility at every turn. Our protaganists chance upon treasure and useful items at the most convenient moments, all the while outrunning bullets and surviving 5000 deg Celsius incineration. A 150-year-old cannon found on a shipwreck would never work if you or I tried to use it, but in the magic hands of McConaughey it springs back to life and fires off as perfectly as it did a century and a half ago. And the WHO doctor played by Cruz somehow manages to climb out of a 20-foot deep well all on her own in a matter of seconds, just in the nick of time to shoot McConaughey's assailant in the back. I can only attribute their lucky streak to divine intervention.

After the movie, I proceeded to YJ's place where everyone was gathering for Canadian pizza and Fatal Frame, the console game in which you play the part of a girl who moves around in a haunted house taking pictures of ghosts and thus "killing" them (aren't ghosts already dead? I guess they leave the uncertainty of limbo to enter into the fiery certainty of hell). A real frightener, this game. It had everyone cowering each time a door was opened and screaming at every moment when a ghost appeared or started harassing the girl. But again Fatal Frame strained credibility (I take much less issue with this than with Sahara since most computer games are quite incredible). Which girl in the right frame of mind would go snooping around in an obviously haunted house in the middle of the night equipped with nothing but a torchlight? And why hinder your movement by wearing a mini-skirt? And where in the world does she keep the dozens of potions and scrapbooks and audio tapes she picks up along the way?

Favourite lines from POA

2005-04-09T00:35:00.000+08:00

“I can count them on one hand…and still pick my nose.”
CIA Iraq Operations Chief to Rumsfeld on the paucity of CIA reporting sources in Iraq

“It was as if the US had gone to war against Mussolini’s Italy in 1941 instead of Hitler’s Germany.”
Senator Bob Graham on military action in Iraq

“You can always see a moustache next to you.”
Former Spanish president José Maria Aznar assures Bush of his country’s support for military action. (I don’t know about you, but I’d be mighty disturbed if I saw a moustache constantly hovering about beside me)

Plan of Attack

2005-04-08T15:29:00.000+08:00

Bob Woodward’s Plan of Attack offers a behind-the-scenes glimpse into the proceedings within the Bush administration in the time leading up to the war in Iraq, and charts how the machinery of the executive, military and intelligence got into gear. POA is written as though Woodward was peeking over the shoulders of policymakers and military commanders as they discussed Iraq and made key decisions. Using mainly narrative reportage, the author keeps his opinions to himself, his voice popping up only occasionally when he cites an interview he personally conducted. Instead, it is the opinions, often cantankerous, of the key players themselves that take centre-stage.

In POA, Woodward clearly delineates the schisms within the Bush administration, and singles out the personalities and working styles that clashed head-on. A recurring example of this is Cheney v. Powell. Powell was alarmed by the vice-president’s feverish conviction, despite scanty proof, that Saddam was in cahoots with Al Qeada, while Cheney perceived the State Secretary as chiefly concerned with his own popularity among the American public. Other rifts: Rumsfeld v. Powell, Franks v. Feith (the commandant commander in charge of CENTCOM took issue with the undersecretary for defence policy for equating policy with producing mountains of files and paper. The former on the latter: “I have to deal with the fucking stupidest guy on the face of the earth almost every day.”)

No earth-shattering revelations here. POA basically confirmed many perceptions I already had of the key figures and of the proceedings leading up to the war: Powell as the Reluctant Warrior and the strongest advocate of a diplomatic solution; Cheney, Feith and Wolfowitz as the principal proponents of the use of force; the torturing of the paltry circumstantial intelligence available on Iraq WMD by the CIA into something more substantial than it actually was.

What I found most interesting were the anecdotal “sideshows” along the way: how Powell and Cheney “danced on the edge of civility” in their heated discussions; Rumsfeld’s incessant Rumsfeldisms and convoluted way of expressing himself (examples can be found here); the debates on what and what not to include in Bush’s many public speeches; the negotiating between countries over the precise wording of what was to be known as Resolution 1441.

A must-read for anyone wanting to know how the Bush administration made up its mind on the use of force in Iraq.

2005-04-07T00:51:00.000+08:00

"I feel pain...and I like it!"

The Madness of Colour Blossoms

2005-04-07T00:10:00.000+08:00

Somehow Sam manages to lure me out of my house all the way to Cineleisure to catch Colour Blossoms. Boy was I about to regret I stepped out of my house.

Colour Blossoms is first-rate crap. It is the mangled remains of a violent three-way collision between severe arthouse pretension, a cast of psychotic freaks and fetishist sex. I can't make head or tail of it. Even the sight of the lovely doe-eyed Teresa Cheung and a surprisingly hot Harisu (most famous Korean transvestite: her surgeon must be in really hot demand) could not make up for the senselessness of the plot and the self-indulgence of the director. The cheongsams worn by the female cast and the scenes in slow-mo are certainly reminiscent of Wong Kar Wai films, but beyond recreating that nostalgic feel the movie completely lacks deeper meaning (if, indeed, it has any meaning at all). It's as if the director woke up one morning thinking:"I know! I'll make a film gratuitously showcasing S&M scenes with homoerotic tinges. Hmm...which crazy exhibitionists would agree to act in such crap? I know! Teresa Cheung and....oh...that Korean transexual! Better add in a couple of hot studs for the gays amidst the audience for good measure."

My favourite scene is where the overly dramatic Japanese diva asks Cheung if she knows what S&M is. Teresa looks back quizzically at the women and replies:"Nope". After a moment's pause, the Japanese woman proceeds to slap a rather bewildered Cheung in the face several times. I bet at that moment Cheung still did not get what S&M meant. Perhaps the Japanese woman could just have explained it in words ("it's pleasure in pain, my dear") like most normal people would have done.

I missed American Idol for this?!?

2005-04-06T02:20:00.000+08:00

You're fired!

Money money money....MONEY!!!

2005-04-06T01:25:00.000+08:00

Why is watching the Apprentice series so addictive and satisfying? It is by far my favourite TV program at the moment. I've already caught the latest episodes of the third season of the original American version, where people with impressive paper qualifications (booksmarts, if you will) are pitted against those with supposed streetsmarts. And Tv5, the laggard that it is, is still airing episodes from season 2. Tsk tsk. Get with the program, Mediacorp...

I've also caught the first three episodes of the UK version in which Sir Alan Sugar, former chairman of Tottenham Hotspur and self-made tycoon, fills Trump's shoes. The tasks involved are similar to those performed in the first season of the American version: vending a simple item (lemonade in the US version, flowers in the English version), designing an innovative toy (task from second season of US version), and, in the third episode I just caught, purchasing a list of items at the lowest price possible (from first season). Sir Alan is possibly tougher in the boardroom than Mr Trump: I've yet to see him crack a smile in there.

It's both entertaining and instructive to see how the different teams approach the tasks they are assigned, how the project manager (PM) delegates, how the overarching strategy is formulated (if indeed there's one at all), and how the team dynamics change when a new PM is appointed. This produces very disparate results. One of my favourite episodes is the one in which the teams have to design a new Pepsi bottle. The eventual winners came up with the outrageous idea of having a bottle spell out the drink name vertically with a hole right through it. The losers came up with the most hideous and awkward bottle one could imagine, whose top and bottom were bulbously shaped and garishly coloured like globes. Another great episode from the second season was the one where they had to design toys: one team came up with a pretty safe racing car with detachable parts which proved very popular in the focus group; the other team came up with a series of lame plastic figurines of animals in the process of evolution they named "Crustacean Nation", which they were convinced was a brilliant idea but turned out a total flop.

The boardroom dramas are equally, if not more, intriguing. Previously cordial team members going at each others' throats with bloodlust, Trump/Sir Alan haranguing failed PMs relentlessly, members on the firing line defending themselves tooth and nail, all this certainly makes for captivating viewing.

I insist that the Apprentice should be everyone's favourite program. Absolute must-see edutainment.

WMD report

2005-04-01T02:07:00.000+08:00

So before I even have time to leaf through the 9/11 Commission Report, the Intelligence on WMD Commission comes out with their own. Just swell.

Caught the press briefing on CNN a moment ago. If that was anything to go by, expect no surprises. The two co-chairmen found absolutely no evidence of politicians pressuring intelligence officials into giving them the intelligence they wanted to hear. One could have expected that much: the commission was created by Bush himself, and aimed primarily at analyzing the competence of the intelligence community, not that of political figures.

Read it here.

funny exchange between me and puay in his car

2005-03-31T21:11:00.000+08:00

Puay: Yo, did you read about the girl from SAJC who won the Angus Ross Prize this year? Apparently she read only 3 books in the past 2 years, all of them by Dan Brown.

Me: Isn't Angus Ross a steakhouse in the US?

Puay: Dude, that's BLACK ANGUS.

Me: Oh.

Jugs and pinches

2005-03-31T18:07:00.000+08:00

What do I have to show for 2 hours of bouldering at Climb Asia in Little India? Bruised toes, an appreciation of the level of difficulty and grace involved, and an unshakeable conviction that my body was not built for the sport. The bruised toes were the result of climbing shoes that did not fit. To my dismay, the largest size that Climb Asia - a modest hole-in-the-wall establishment infused with a student hostel vibe - had stocked was 10, two sizes lower than my usual 12. Upon sensing my consternation, Puay Lim quickly informed me that it was normal for the shoes to fit tighter than one was accustomed to, and that one should feel that their feet are akin to the claws of a perched bird. I retorted most disgruntledly that I felt more like an unhappy Chinese concubine with bound feet.

So there I was, with my unhappy bound feet, staring at the hold-covered walls. No two holds looked alike, sort of like snowflakes but with color. Apparently they have different names too: jugs, ridges, pinches. Later, when I had decided I had enough and starting taking a closer look at the holds, I discovered to my amusement that some looked downright rude: there were a few that were shaped like breasts and two that looked exactly like butts, cheeks, crack and all. I questioned how useful these were as holds given their smoothness and roundness and concluded that they served primarily as sources of motivation ("Must...get...to that...breast...on the right....there!") or as distractions to make the climb more challenging ("Wow...what a round breas...*thud* oops, guess I should have paid more attention to climbing") Jugs are the friendly holds that you can actually grip onto and pinches the tiny useless ones only good as toeholds. I thought it'd be hilarious if the breast-shaped ones were called jugs and the butt-shaped ones pinches. Hee.

What we did was bouldering, in which walls are lower, movement is mostly lateral and no safety harnesses are worn. We started in the beginner's room upstairs. I had enough after about 10 attempts, not least because my bird feet were killing me. Without the right techniques, climbing is insanely tiring because you find yourself using more arm power than actually necessary. It's all in the positioning. Puay Lim fared infinitely better, a combination of his compact build and prior climbing experience. After about an hour, we proceeded downstairs to observe how the pros did it. The two women we saw were jaw-droppingly amazing. They made bouldering seem so effortless and intuitive, so graceful and aesthetic, moving without the slightest hesitation from left to right, then back to left. After about three minutes, I realized my mouth was agape so I swiftly shut it. Puay Lim decided he was inspired to have another try upstairs; I, on the other hand, was content being a spectator for the rest of the time there.

I was in two minds before, but now at least I can say with unwavering certainty that this sport is not for me. I possess neither the dexterity, the grace nor the patience to manoeuvre my way up a wall. I'm more a patron of brute force. As I told Puay Lim, faced with a wall, my first instinct would be to think of ways to knock it down rather than climb it.

About About Face

2005-03-31T13:11:00.000+08:00

James Mann’s About Face, which I borrowed from Ken’s burgeoning personal book collection (one which incidentally gives Marine Parade Community Library a good run for its money), filled the many hollows in my spotty knowledge of modern Sino-American relations. He adopts an easy-to-follow chronological approach, demonstrating how US policy toward China evolved as each president was succeeded by the next. Well-written, revelatory and generously peppered with entertaining anecdotes. Though I would suggest Mr. Mann buy a thesaurus. His favorite word was by far contretemps, a word which I’ve never use in my life thus far, but which nevertheless popped up at least 20 times in the book. Alternative words I found run aplenty: falling-out, altercation, dispute, confrontation, contrariety, discord. But I guess these words don’t possess the same ring of sophistication.

The book’s title refers equally to the many voltes-faces in American China policy when US leaders vacillated in their decisions and when American leadership changed hands, as to the more general trend in policy which, while in the 1970s, saw the US turning a blind eye to human rights abuses and autocratic horrors in China in a bid to woo China as an anti-Soviet ally, saw the Americans openly espousing Chinese democracy in the Clintonian era.

Main points I took home from the book include the following:

* Early US policy was too heavily predicated on the strategic necessities of the Cold War and American leaders lacked the far-sightedness to plan the course of policy once the Cold War power structure was dismantled and USSR no longer existed. Bush Snr. was at a lost as to how to continue US' relationship with China. Shortly, US discovered the advantages of continuing to cultivate China in taming a bellicose and nuclear North Korea, ensuring peace in the Taiwan Straits and working toward non-proliferation of nuclear technology. [The fleeting mention of cross-strait relations has provided me an excellent opportunity for self-aggrandizement. Check out my op-ed debut archived in the online edition of the Taipei Times. I wrote this back on National Day in 2002 when I was interning at the INPR in Taipei. Also, check out François Godement’s (head of the Asia Center at the Institut français des relations internationales) response.] In addition, it was in the post-Cold War epoch that relations took on a markedly commercial nature.

* US leaders have a chronic habit of maximizing China’s importance and minimizing US leverage in negotiations. In a bid to cultivate China as a counterweight to USSR at all costs, fawning US leaders fell prey to China’s devious machinations and often received the short end of the stick in diplomatic horse-trading: China usually yielded less than it had promised, while the US ceded more or retracted sanctions it had earlier imposed.

* Even at the highest levels, US leaders are rarely on the same page. Mann’s book tells the story of National Security Advisors attempting to outdo Secretary of States (Kissinger and Rogers; Zbig and Cyrus), of innocent ambassadors scapegoated for bad executive decisions (William Lord took all the heat for the Fang Lizhi incident); of bewitched statesmen promising China more than they could deliver or than they were responsible for; of the forming of cabals and the unsuspecting (and later, upon finding out, furious) people left out of the loop. China skillfully managed to take advantage of all these schisms in the US political machinery to great effect.

* Tiananmen was a watershed in Sino-American relations. Before TAM, China policy was shrouded in Kissingerian secrecy and left in the exclusive hands of top executive brass which lulled the public back home into believing that China was only a “so-called Communist China” (Reagan’s phrase) undergoing (so-called) democratic reform. After TAM, where Chinese leadership revealed its true undemocratic self in all its glory, all romantic illusions that the public formerly held of China were shattered. From then on, public opinion and Congress were far more influential and participatory in policy formulation (e.g. student-led movement to withdraw China’s MFN status, Pelosi Bill). US leaders were also much warier of being caught on camera “coddling” with the Chinese, especially after the fiercely controversial picture published mere months after TAM in which Bush's national security advisor Scowcroft was seen making a toast to then Chinese foreign minister Qian Qichen.

* Commercial pressure only surfaced in the mid-1990s when Deng’s economic reforms bore fruit and China’s economy began to take off. The influence of business interests was embodied in Clinton’s decision in 1994 to scrap the linkage between China’s MFN status and its human rights record only one year after he had signed the executive order. This unveiled a new chapter in Sino-American ties in which the US goes out of its way to court China Inc. A telling fact is that many retired Congressman and statesmen (like such as Kissinger), who during their terms were supportive of close China-US ties, are now doing lucrative business with China. Those still serving may be affected in their decisions on policies involving China when they notice this.

Also, I learnt that the official stance of the CCP on Tiananmen is, ridiculously, that noone died on the Square that fateful day. This is only because most of the 700-2000 victims of the state’s crackdown were located some distance west of the square. That’s delusion if I ever encountered it.

happy homebody

2005-03-31T00:28:00.000+08:00

I have settled back into happy homebody mode for the past three days. I've caught a flu which offers an excellent pretext to skip my close combat training. Flu or not, I probably wouldn't have gone anyway since all the moves have been covered and the instructors are just revising.

The routine I've adhered to for the past few days is as follows: get up around 10-11am. Proceed downstairs for breakfast. Entertain Russell for 10min. Proceed back up to read book or watch TV. Proceed back down at 1pm for lunch. Watch Des Chiffres et des Lettres (brainy french game show similar to Text Twist where contestants have to make the longest word out of a series of letters, and where they also have to derive a number, say, 314, out of a series of 6 other numbers through simple math operations +/*-) on TV5. Proceed back up to read book. Lie on bed and watch downloaded programs on computer. Start to doze off because bed too comfortable and give up watching. Take nap till dinner at 7.30pm. Proceed down for dinner and TV. Entertain Russell for 15min. Proceed back up for TV, reading and misc computer-related activities. Go to bed around 3am.

I've done a pretty good job keeping myself entertained at home, so much so that I haven't felt the slightest urge to step out or meet anyone. There's just so much to do around the house and so little time to do it. Clearing my crap for instance. My father just came up looking for the Starhub Broadband Modem manual. While looking for it in my room, I discovered how much crap I have accumulated in my drawers: mousepads, screws, postcards, expired pills, old remote controls, thread. You name it, I sure as hell got it.

Finally gotten down to downloading and watching episodes of LOST, the other successful ABC series (the first being Desperate Housewives) about a group of plane crash survivors who find themselves on a deserted island where things don't seem quite right. Pretty riveting stuff. Kinda like a fictional SURVIVOR with a spooky DREAMCATCHER element.

I'm sure going to miss these happy homebody days once I start work. I shall savor them while they last.

amusing conversation over lunch today

2005-03-28T18:06:00.000+08:00

Cres: The weather’s so bad these few days. Look at the clothes! All not dried yet.
Me: I think it’s time we bought a machine dryer. That way we won’t have to wait for the sun to be out for the clothes to dry.
Cres: Last time Sir wanted to buy but everyone said don’t want (grimaces).
A-ma decides to interject: [in Hokkien] Lir bey buey niao-ci?! Mm Tang lah! (You want to buy a mouse? Better not lah!)
Cres, me, 4gor: ?????
4gor: Weijiang’s talking about buying a dryer, not a mouse!!!
Me: Hmm, A-ma, why on earth would you think I wanted to buy a mouse??
A-ma: That’s what Cres told me what.
Me: I was thinking of keeping a cat, NOT mice.
Cres: Oh, niao-ci is mouse, not cat? What’s cat then?
Me and 4gor, in unison: Niao.
4gor to me: Why do you want a cat anyway? Their shit really stinks.
Me: Really? Just thought they'd be nice to have around the house.
4gor: There are so many stray cats outside the house. Just adopt one lor.

new residents

2005-03-28T17:07:00.000+08:00

Two dozen neon-tetra have taken up residence in the tank downstairs formerly inhabited by Luohan, unaware of the gory nightmare that unfolded in their new home just a few days ago. The tank interior has undergone a facelift and now looks infinitely homelier, with a sand-covered bottom and swaying aquatic shrubbery. I think the new fish will have happy lives here.

This weekend's been insane, what with the three consecutive days I returned home after 4am. Need to rediscover the homebody in me, if only to recalibrate my sleep cycle. A précis of weekend events:

Thur:
attended opening film of IFF; Pompougnac at Zouk

Fri:
Set (fun new game!) and multiple variations of poker (Texan; 3-5-7; Omaha) at Vi's place

Sat:
belated bday celebration for Joel at La Catina (not to be mistaken for more atas La Braceria just opposite!);
Ticket to Ride (Best German game if you still recall), celebrity trashing on awfulplasticsurgery.com, and communal patting of Joel's mixed silky terrier Mikki all at Joel's swanky new home

Sun:
church for another cringe-a-minute sermon;
Le Conseguenze dell'Amore at Plaza with Mayee

Zeniths of the week
*Finally stepping into Zouk after a 2-year-long hiatus
*Discovery of how fun and addictive poker can be
*Winning at Ticket to Ride despite inveterate whimsy and one evil evil opponent

Nadirs
*Dormendo dietro i Paraventi *yawn*
*Getting my CashCard eaten up by ATM machine in Plaza Sing.

In Memoriam: Luohan (?/?/2003 - 25/3/2005)

2005-03-25T15:22:00.000+08:00

My luohan passed on this morning. We finally decided to put it out of its misery. In its memory, I crafted a haiku during sermon this morning.

O poor dear luohan
All fish perish some day but
What a way to go

cantando dietro i paraventi, dormendo in cinema, e ballando in zouk

2005-03-25T14:21:00.000+08:00

Making my way from home to Great World City proved to be quite a challenge even with a brainy navigator equipped with a Street directory. At least I only passed through one ERP gantry this time. And at least Minli and I discovered Kay Poh St while going around in circles. That provided much amusement.

Attending the opening event of the Italian film festival in GV Great World City was exciting. We had the chance to feast our eyes on beautiful Italian glitterati clad in their Zegna suits and elegant pashminas. Of course we did not recognize a single one of them that paraded in, but nonetheless they looked distinguished and added class and import to the event.

It was all exciting stuff. That is, until the movie began. Cantando Dietro i Paraventi (Singing Behind Screens) or, maybe more accurately, Dormendo Dietro i Paraventi, was soporific and tortuous to watch. I frankly couldn't wait for the darn film to end! Part narrated reenactment part theatrical representation, the movie tells the tale of a widow who takes over leadership over a band of pirates after her husband, a certain Admiral Ching, dies, and who leads her crew in an eventual showdown with the Chinese imperial fleet. Though the story is set in China with Chinese characters, they were all speaking perfect Italian to each other for some reason, what I found very disarranging and extremely contrived. There were certain Chinese words mentioned in passing like people's names, but they were pronounced in such an un-Chinese angmoh fashion I couldn't help but snigger each time they let one fly. Particularly funny was when the maid kept mentioning and butchering the word hu2 die2 (蝴蝶）. Cracked me up good.

Adjourned to zouk where M. Pompougnac was spinning. I must say he surpassed my expectations, entirely abstaining from any hint of eurotechno crass. Vive tous ces DJs francais! I'm not a fan of the moments when deafeningly loud hissing smoke gets pumped onto the dancefloor all of a sudden. Got startled a couple of times. Found myself preparing myself for the next time that was going to happen, which sort of took some of the fun away. Also, you know you're really out of practice when you get a stitch five minutes into your dancing.

Kill me now, please...

Baselitz at the Tyler

2005-03-24T14:13:00.000+08:00

The Tyler Print Institute proved to be difficult to locate even with Ken's hitherto infallible navigational skills, resulting in us circling around the Singapore river vicinity and painfully passing under two ERP gantries. The directions provided by the lady from the TPI ("it's upstream on the River") were quite useless given that we were not breast-stroking our way there via the river. When we finally found the darn place, we discovered it was a low-rise colonial-styled building hidden completely from view by a monstrous condominium "The Pier" undergoing heavy and noisy construction.

We spent more time finding our way there than at the gallery itself. No surprise since it was a modest establishment with only a single floor of approximately 70-80 exhibits, mostly woodprints, linocuts and engravings. I am no aesthete, so the following description derives from what I gathered from the writeup provided at the entrance counter. Baselitz is a pioneer of the neo-impressionist style in which the artist handles materials in a raw manner typically expressing violent emotion. This style is somewhat rooted in art brut and psychotic art, that produced by the mentally unsound. Baselitz' claim to fame are his upside down works, apparently done to dissociate form from content, to allow the audience to appreciate the lines, forms and colours without ascribing meaning to them.

Frankly I'm not mad about Baselitz' work. It's very scratchy. And how do I not ascribe meaning to the work and appreciate the mere form of it if I turn my head and still see a distinct depiction of a bird or a man?? And that was precisely how we spent most of our time there - comically turning our heads upside down from picture to picture to see what each was.

playing with myself

2005-03-22T23:07:00.000+08:00

Came across this face-morphing program in someone's blog. Check me out as:

I am now

a baby; a child; a senior citizen;

a white dude; a black dude; a west asian;

a Modigliani; el Greco; Manga

an ape

I think I make an adorable child, a scarily convincing West Asian and a butt-ugly ape.

caveat lector

2005-03-21T23:29:00.000+08:00

*Note to reader: the following content is repulsive and is guaranteed to upset more than your appetite, especially for those of you who haven't heard my hamster story. So read at your own risk*

My maid alerted me to a harrowing phenomenon at breakfast this morning. There were small worms burrowing their way out of the right side of our luohan fish's bulbous head. By the time I had come to observe this, about thirty of them had already successfully effectuated their exit out of the poor fish's brain and were writhing at the bottom of the tank. One was sticking out halfway out of the head, still wriggling out. I wonder if the fish was aware of what was happening to itself, that it was being eaten alive, if it felt any pain. The fish was hovering nearer the surface than usual. The feasting worms must have significantly reduced its mass. I wonder if this portends anything, given that the luohan is supposed to represent good fortune. In any case, no good can come out of owning a worm-infested pet.

*related conversation with ken on msn:*
weister3 says:
i'm wondering if i shld blog abt my diseased fish
halcyon says:
oh please do
halcyon says:
it'll be hilarious
weister3 says:
think it'd disgust my readers
halcyon says:
not at all
halcyon says:
think it'll be very funny
weister3 says:
i didn't tell you but
weister3 says:
i actually had this hamster
halcyon says:
hm.
weister3 says:
that suffered a similar fate
weister3 says:
eaten out
weister3 says:
not by worms
weister3 says:
but by ants
halcyon says:
how did ants get inside it?!
weister3 says:
discovered its hollow carcus after a vacation
weister3 says:
dunno
halcyon says:
that's strange
weister3 says:
only you would enjoy reading abt hollowed out pets
weister3 says:
i would too i guess =)
halcyon says:
haha
halcyon says:
you should write about both of them
halcyon says:
it'snot gross at all
weister3 says:
=(
weister3 says:
i beg to differ
weister3 says:
anyway i checked
halcyon says:
as long as you do it in a funny way
halcyon says:
hollowed-out carcass after a holiday is good
weister3 says:
noone eats luohan
halcyon says:
yeah precisely
halcyon says:
why would you eat luo han?
halcyon says:
i notice your family likes to rear things and then SLAUGHTER them
weister3 says:
but breeders free failed mutated luohan into open water bodies
halcyon says:
i don't think a worm-infested brain is a mutation
halcyon says:
i think it's a sign of IMPENDING DEATH
weister3 says:
luohans with small brains and thick diseased lips
halcyon says:
or SOMETHING VERY WRONG
weister3 says:
not mine lah!
weister3 says:
mine's a goner
halcyon says:
haha
halcyon says:
think you should just copy and paste this conversation
halcyon says:
it's hilarious
weister3 says:
i think my dad got rid of it alredy
halcyon says:
what?
halcyon says:
damn
halcyon says:
there could have been more stories about it
weister3 says:
heard him drainig out the water from the tank just now
halcyon says:
how does he kill fish
weister3 says:
dunno. i'll see if it's still around tomorrow morning
weister3 says:
i will copy and paste this to blog

Amusing coffins

2005-03-20T16:52:00.000+08:00

Just read in an article in the Economist about mobile-phone coffins in Ghana. Check out the exciting array of designs available. Zoom into your afterlife in your Ferrari coffin. Couldn't afford a plane while you were living? Spend eternity in your very own Boeing 747! It's never too early to start shopping for your final resting place.

"Keep your line to heaven open - go to the afterlife in a Nokia. The face of the phone opens opens to make the lid. Whatever brand you want our carpenters can make it for you - even blue tooth!"

km8

2005-03-20T04:40:00.000+08:00

Visited the newly renovated Bedok Food Centre near my home. I must say the renovators did an excellent job. Now it's become such a hotspot for weekend diners. The lines were never as long in the old place. Just as I was getting really excited in the queue about my hokkien mee, the stallowner comes up to me and says she's run out of liao. Just my luck. I had to settle for boring nasi lemak instead. Brought food over to Advin's pad to consume. I'm in love with his house. It's AMAZING. His living room was built for movie nights.

Magically, Adeline managed to coax everyone out to Sentosa tonight despite initial widespread reluctance, salvaging the evening from degenerating into yet another Games Night (not that those aren't fun, but we've done them so many times). Equally magically, I succeed in roping both Advin and Jon G. along. Yay (or yow!) to coalescing social circles! We went to km8 at Tanjong Beach, apparently the latest place to be seen and heard, famous for celerity sightings and its pool adorned by frolicking bikini-clad models. It did not live up to its reputation. When we arrived around 2230, the beach bar was pretty much empty and the frolicking bikini-clad models were nowhere in sight. I guess one can't expect them to frolick for too long or their fingers and toes will start getting crinkly and ugly. And the lighting was way too dark to see if people were indeed as beautiful as claimed. But the seabreeze was most pleasant and refreshing. Last orders were ridiculously early, at 0000. Ended the day with a hearty supper at Jln Kayu.

soul kitchen and bussorah street

2005-03-20T04:09:00.000+08:00

Soul Kitchen turned out to be disappointing. Don't think it deserved the "Editor's Choice" imprimatur that I.S. magazine bestowed on it in its annual review of restaurants. Yanbin and I had the devil's curry and the stuffed sambal squids. The former was bland and forgettable while the latter came in a ridiculously small serving portion, garnished by three sad shrivelled brinjal sticks. Only redeeming qualities were a friendly and attentive staff, the hip decor and the cool music (Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon).

Lunch was followed by teh alia and curry puffs (cheap!) with Ali at the Kampong Glam Cafe in Bussorah St, a very nice area lined by cafes and antique shops and which I'll definitely be visiting more often. Never knew we had streets named after the Iraqi capital and the hometown of the Taliban (Kandahar). I wonder what the Americans would have to say about that. Also never knew that we had shopping complexes with carlifts! Experienced one for the first time in Golden Landmark carpark. A shout out to my faithful reader Mervin S.

virtual singlehood

2005-03-19T10:14:00.000+08:00

Haven't blogged for a while now. It hasn't been the best of weeks, and didn't really feel up to blogging about it. But I think I've sufficiently come to terms with the past week's events to be able to start again. It's official - I'm single again. It wasn't ugly. We simply came to the conclusion that LDR wasn't going to work out for us, since I won't be very mobile for the next five years of my bond, and she isn't too keen on leaving her parents in Taipei and moving over here. We both had expected that things would end this way, but I guess noone, till a few days ago, had the guts to ask the question: "Is it worth continuing this?" Until this year, I really believed things were going to work out between us despite the distance, that she and I would be further proof that LDR is feasible. I guess I was blinded by my naivete.

On a day-to-day level though, the breakup doesn't make much of a difference. We haven't seen each other since she visited last June. In the past months, we were talking more and more infrequently and our conversations were increasingly sparse and trivial.

Breakups are less painful if you've been virtually single for close to a year.

(Foreign) Movie Night II

2005-03-13T12:49:00.000+08:00

Had lunch with Advin (friend from army) at Beer Garden. While I was happily tucking into my fish beehoon, a bird shat on me. If this is veritably a sign of good fortune as I am often told, I must be one heck of a lucky guy cos this sure happens to me alot. Other moments would be while strolling along Orchard Road a few years ago with minli and frenje, and behind Tresidder at a group meeting for my Poli Sci 35 class (most embarrassing: size of excrement was copious, landed conspicuously on my shoulder and it happened in front of strangers). You would think I'd be safe under the shelter in Beer Garden, but the (lone) sneaky mynah was happily perched on a steel bar that held the tentage up. And of all the seats I could have chosen, I chose to sit right beneath the damn bird, setting myself up for it. Jeez.

In the evening had addy, minli, frenje, vi, ken sim and yj over for movie night part deux. Screened foreign movies, or more accurately one true-blue foreign movie and two other movies revolving around inter-cultural encounters, this time round: Les Choristes, Bride and Prejudice and Spanglish. Also caught two episodes of Robot Chicken and one episode of Joey courtesy of yj's uber-cool Mac (I want one!).

Unease at Cafe Iguana

2005-03-12T10:56:00.000+08:00

Was at my most efficient at the IT fair yesterday. Homed in on the Kingston stall and secured my 256MB SD card in under 3 minutes from the time we stepped into the hall. The external HD drive was trickier since I didn't know what a good deal was having never bought or looked for one before. But I settled for the Iomega 80GB model in a similarly summary fashion. I would have taken less time in the absence of the throng of smelly people. Every booth seemed to be blaring Christina Aguilera music to showcase the prowess of their speakers - one was playing "Car wash" while the stall just next to it "Beautiful". Brought to mind Triumph the comic insult dog's (on Conan) hilarious joke about her reputation as a filthy skank:"I downloaded some of her songs on my ipod, and it got a nasty rash."

After that, we proceeded to Cafe Iguana to meet with Frenje and Kenneth, and were later joined by limml's JC friends Cheehao and Carrie. The food was rather pricey (nachos for 20 bucks?!) and nothing to shout about, but the drinks were dirt cheap during happy hour. A jug of house margarita - which came in a number of the usual fruity flavors, though nothing as radical as bah kwa or nutella - was only 16 bucks.

I will always associate Cafe Iguana with heartburn and discomfort because that's what I had and felt for the entire night after dinner. What did me in was my overdose on my monster-sized shredded steak burrito, cheese-covered nachos and about 4 glasses of margarita. Vile combination. I was feeling so ill at ease I had to escape back to the backseat of my car while the rest headed over to TCC. All that lying down seemed to help a little with the bloatedness, but it was only to be a temporary reprieve. Soon, I was hicupping uncontrollably and while fetching frenje and minli back home, I nearly barfed. Very sad that things turned out this way since I was really looking forward to clubbing after not having done so for eons.

Note to self: eat less and take your time. Avoid toxic combi of cheese and alcohol.

on the road to chefdom

2005-03-10T22:47:00.000+08:00

Over the past few days, I've added the following dishes to my repertoire:

- fried chicken seasoned with five-spice powder
- curry fish
- nasi lemak
- fried ikan kuning
- sambal prawns
- spicy spaghetti with beef

I wonder if I'll still remember all this in a month's time. My maid's leaving for Philippines for a month in April and I may have to do a little basic cooking. The house is going to be a royal mess. Most worried about the laundry.

Finally got to use my Raoul voucher yesterday at the Millenia Walk outlet. After much deliberation, I settled on a striped shirt and a pair of shimmery cufflinks.

My London trip has gone up in smoke - no fault of my own; still rather pissed about it - only to be supplanted by a family vacation to Tokyo in late april-early may. Really excited since it'll be my first time in Japan. Though I was doing a little research on the web earlier today and found out the time we are going coincides with the Golden Week national holiday, where Green Day, Constitution Day and Children's Day fall consecutively. This either means all the shops will be closed or, equally bad, the streets will be exceptionally crowded. Hope this doesn't mar the experience.

On the agenda tomorrow: suntec IT fair to get SD card for my camera, tennis with scott after retrieving them from the shop at Parkway, dinner/drinks with Stanford clique

my dilettantish attempt at cooking

2005-03-07T21:26:00.000+08:00

Tried my hand at cooking dinner today. Cres turned out to be an excellent instructor, patiently guiding me through each step while providing useful tips along the way. I must say I think I was rather deft around the kitchen - I flipped the fish I was frying several times with minimal splatter, seasoned the tofu soup near-perfectly and fried eggs two styles - sunny-side-up and scrambled. Cres was full of praise, even going to the extent of declaring my superiority to my auntie who, she claimed, was too panicky in the kitchen. Maybe I should start contemplating signing up at Le Cordon Bleu de Paris.

second week of off

2005-03-07T01:00:00.000+08:00

Caught up with Mayee aka Ms. Wong over lunch at Olio Dome today, where I satisfied my craving for their teriyaki chicken pizza. Told her about all the free time I had on my hands and how I didn't know what to do with it. She kindly suggested several activities that would occupy my time - doing a refresher in Italian, taking dance lessons, picking up fencing - among them learning how to cook, which I thought was brilliant since I've got a willing teacher (my maid), it won't cost any money and I don't have to step out of the house. I'll probably do that sometime this week. We also had a diverting conversation about her sole proprietorship of the NJ IP English syllabus, David Lynch movies and Dan Brown books. On the way back, Ms. Wong tried to explain to me the differences between deconstructionism, structuralism and post-modernism, something which I never quite grasped and was meaning to ask her for a long time. I think I get it now. Sort of. She also shared her dream about a schlong which she found funny, but which I thought perturbing.

Brought Russell to Changi Beach Park in the late afternoon, together with Skew and his owner limml, who shared with me first her joy over her newly acquired ipod shuffle and then her sad Parliament House catering story . The conversations I have with my working friends invariably revolve around the topic of inept bosses. I really hope I have luck with my future superiors in MFA.

Another entire week of off ahead. Think it's high time I used the Raoul voucher my sis got for me last Xmas before it expires.

Have you seen my mojo?

2005-03-05T21:44:00.000+08:00

Had vegetarian buffet lunch with YB aka "poster boy of superachievers" according to ST's Scholar's Choice III published yesterday. As usual he complained endlessly about the incompetences of his employers, which I found funny since it was so dissonant with his quoted remarks in yesterday's write-up, where he praised his company's care for the growth of its employees. Expectedly, he revealed that an HR officer was present during the interview by the journalist to check him and to feed him info if needed. YB regretted he couldn't say what he really felt. I told him Scholar's Choice wouldn't have been a suitable conduit to voice his frustrations - it aims to entice students to scholarships, not scare them away.

I must say reading all the write-ups on the scholars was more than a little depressing and demoralizing. There are people who've done so much more than me. Some have managed to chock up three bachelor degrees as well as a masters, others have had gloriously illustrious achievements both scholastically and in extra-curricular activities. I know I should be proud about my own achievements and experiences at Stanford, but I can't help but feel regret about certain things, like not pursuing a masters, and not following my dream to do my undergrad studies in France, even after passing the DALF (one bad-ass linguistic exam). And as I read the write-ups one after the other, I was constantly reminded I did not get selected for MA. And I'm not even on track. And that I'm a spec and not an officer. And I start wondering if I'm over the hill, past my prime, my anni mirabili done with. I wonder what happened to the drive I once possessed in secondary school and in JC to excel and beat the competition to a pulp, to come out tops in the subjects I did. Am I losing my steam? Worse yet, have I completely lost it? Have I nothing left in the tank to do well in my new workplace? My apathy and cynism nowadays worry me. But I guess I can seek temporary solace in the rejoinder of one of the signallers (schooled in Purdue) when I ranted to him about feeling like an underachiever after reading Scholar's Choice. After a dismissive scoff, he simply said "They're just overachievers." That made me smile.

After lunch, proceeded to catch Howl's Moving Castle with Eehou. Kept dozing off - combination of morning tennis and soporific post-lunch effect. It was a pretty charming movie (at least the parts that I caught and that I remember) with characters extremely reminiscent of those in Spirited Away. Yubaba is reincarnated as the Witch of the Wastes, the purple chinchilla which Yubaba's grandson turned into comes back as a droopy spy-dog who defacts from the king, and the muddy river god and faceless demon come back in the form of the king's muddy bomber minions. Come to think of it, Moving Castle is simply Spirited Away in a 19th century Europe setting.

In a bid to reconcile myself with the french language, I've subscribed to TV5. French game shows are so much more intellectual than the American Wheel-of-Fortine-Price-is-Right crap.

Surfacing

2005-03-03T22:11:00.000+08:00

Just completed my first Margaret Atwood book. In Surfacing, a female storybook illustrator returns to the cabin on an island in northern Quebec where she grew up upon learning that her father has mysteriously disappeared. She is accompanied by a young couple David and Anna and her boyfriend Joe. An interesting read to say the least, but I was left very much confused at the end. Not least because at the end the protaganist is left alone at the cabin by her "friends" and she starts acting like an animal, tearing the cabin apart, digging up roots and plucking fruit for sustenance and bathing in the lake under the moonlight. I think I'm missing something here...

Got COS duty tomorrow. Bleah.

my battered body

2005-03-02T19:19:00.000+08:00

Woke up this morning with a gawd-awful ache on the right side of my neck and on my left back. I guess my body underwent more damage yesterday than I had realized.

In the morning I brought the guys to Mandai Hill camp to support the 3 DIV volleyball team in a match against a bunch of Combat Engineers. I only know this because they had the word "ENGINEERS" printed in bold on the back of their jerseys. We weren't told in advance who we were playing against. Typical. Anyhow, I was very impressed by our team. We trounced our opponents 3 sets to love. Watching them play made me wanna play as well. Spiking seems awfully fun and carthartic. I love to hit things as hard as I possibly can. Possibly why I love tennis and squash so much.

Had our second ACCT lesson today, this time indoors in the derelict multipurpose hall above the 2SIR cookhouse. Today we learnt two more manoeuvres: release from overarm grab from behind and release from neck lock. Had to do more breakfalls, which only served to aggravate my bruised and aching body. Maybe I should get deep heat or a similar rub-on medicated product to soothe my pain.

Off tomorrow!! =)

delenda est

2005-03-01T20:16:00.000+08:00

Attended my first Advanced Close Combat Training (ACCT) lesson in camp this morning. We did a refresher on how to do side breakfalls. I sprained my neck slightly on the first attempt, surely an ominous start to my first lesson. Thereafter we learnt how to perform a reverse throw on an assailant that has tried to punch us. After having us hone our craft by practising with a partner, the PTI divided us into two groups: attackers and defenders/throwers. Each defender had to run down a long line of attackers and throw every single one of them (there were approx. 30 on each side). After all the defenders were done throwing, they switched sides with the attackers. I was an attacker first, which was good, since by the time we switched sides I was seething for revenge after having been unceremoniously reverse-thrown multiple times by strangers. And how sweet revenge was. I smiled inside each time my victim let out a muffled groan or occasional shriek as they landed on the grass. I'm sure I managed to bruise more than a few backs.

Second lesson tomorrow afternoon. Looking forward to more carnage.

the "faulty" phone

2005-02-28T21:59:00.000+08:00

Beyonce’s a fine singer, but did she really have to perform 3 out of the 5 songs nominated for the Best Song category at the Oscars? It seemed like she had a point to prove – that she could excel at all musical genres, from French chorale music (“Vois sur ton chemin” from Les Choristes – I thought she was going to butcher the song with a horrible French accent but she turned out sounding quite pleasant, like what I imagine a Creole earth-mother would sound like), to opera (“Learn to be Lonely” from Phantom) and schmaltzy pop (“Believe” from Polar Express which she performed in a resplendent – read: blinding – dress with a disappointingly flat Josh Groban). Heck, she might as well have performed the other two also. Though I can’t picture her rocking out to “Accidentally In Love” with the Counting Crows jamming behind her, nor bettering the Santana-Banderas pairing on “Al Oltro Lado del Rio” from Motorcycle Diaries (the song which won).

This year’s Oscars did not produce any surprises. Although I was expecting Scorsese to take home the award for Best Director. Not that I particularly liked The Aviator, but only because he’s been snubbed so many times by the Academy. Better luck next time, Marty.
Where was Nicole? And, for that matter, Tom?

Met Brian at Tampines Central for coffee, pasar malam-browsing and homephone-shopping. Settled on a 30-dollar Alcom phone with the hugest buttons I’ve ever seen on a phone, which I got from Best Denki at Century. Got home, hooked it up, discovered I could not disconnect the phoneline by pressing the hook switch, and got really pissed at Best Denki. How dare they peddle me faulty ware? I immediately headed back to the shop (thanks for the ride El S.!) to demand a refund or at least a replacement. I arrived all flustered and confrontational. “I bought this phone an hour ago. It doesn’t work,” I blurted brusquely to the salesgirl. After a momentary puzzled look, she very efficiently started to unpack the contents of the box I had handed back to her, fixed up the phone and pressed buttons 1 to 9. As she was doing that, I gave her this irritated see-I-told-u-so glance. I did not expect her next few words to be “It works what.” Disbelievingly, I took the receiver she held up to me, and, sure enough, when I pressed the hook switch the line was disconnected. It turns out that I had connected the receiver cord to the wrong port. I blushed (which I have more control over this), smiled apologetically at the salesgirl and made a quick exit, as El S. sniggered beside me. NOT the proudest moment of my life…

After that utterly humiliating encounter, El S. and I proceeded to Little India for a South Indian dinner at Komala Vilas Restaurant, supposedly the eatery from which the Komala’s fast food chain originated. I never had better dosai in my life! Portions were massive, and the dosai was served fluffy and piping hot. And it was ridiculously cheap! For a measly 6 bucks I got to sample one onion masala dosai, half a huge paper dosai and one idli (a steamed bread with a texture very similar to char shao bao). Eating here makes me even madder that I wasted all that money at Ku-shibo.

It’s the first day of close combat training tomorrow. Not sure if my body can take all the abuse that awaits it. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.

Movie night

2005-02-27T16:45:00.000+08:00

Had dinner with Sam, Ken et al. (Cheryl, Karen, Nat) last night at Kushin-bo, the Japanese buffet restaurant in Suntec with the buddhist chant-like jingle. The jingle, which we agreed was probably trying to convince us subliminally that we were full and should stop eating, would start playing every half-hour or so when a new exclusive food item was being offered. I must say I was very disappointed with the quality of the food. The sushi was decent, but the oysters and the lobster were stale and smelt repulsive. The teriyaki chicken and beef were not marinated sufficiently and thus tasted bland. For the whopping 40 bucks I spent there, I expected much more. I doubt I'll go there to eat ever again.

After dinner, the group proceeded on to Zouk while I went back home. Had the Stanford gang plus Addy over for a movie marathon. Upon arrival, everyone took out their personal stash of DVDs purchased in KL and we haggled over what movies to screen. Quite a painless affair since everyone was amiable and did not really object adamantly to any movie (save limml's chimpanzee documentary - what was she thinking? - and some sci-fi flick that yj brought). In the end, we decided on I Love Huckabees, Mean Girls and Under the Tuscan Sun. The first was an absurdist comedy starring Lily Tomlin, Dustin Hoffman and Isabelle Huppert as "existential detectives" and Mark Wahlberg, Jude Law and Jason Schwartzman as their clients. The stellar line-up was promising, but the humor far too quirky for me to appreciate. The other two were chick flicks (I shall just conveniently lump the two together) that I am not embarrassed to admit I rather enjoyed. We actually made it (fwee by the skin of her teeth) through three movies! Ended at 5am. Can't believe I managed to lug my sorry ass out my bed and all the way to church at 11am. Go me.

lessons from the movies

2005-02-26T01:33:00.000+08:00

Open Water
- Black men from the Caribbean can't count.
- Bring food and distress flare when scuba-diving.
- Never ever try scuba-diving.

Million Dollar Baby
- Boxing referees are inept fools who'll allow elbowing, head butts and other dirty tricks.
- A broken nose can be fixed easily with some force and two Q-tips. Watch out for the geyser after 20 secs though.
- Some mothers can be unbelievably nasty bitches, especially if they are white trailer-park trash.

Sideways
- Asian biker chicks are extremely dangerous.
- Not all golfers are gentlemen.
- When an alcoholic drink is described as quaffable, it means it's easy and pleasant to drink copious amounts of it.

Mini reunion at Blooies

2005-02-25T10:38:00.000+08:00

Had coffee with Sam, Ken and Puay yesterday night at Siglap. Puay and I are thinking about carpooling when we start work, but that health freak wants to leave around 6.45am every morning so he can get there in time for a run in Botanical Gardens. And here I am thinking about how late I can report to work without appearing too slack. He was also pretty outraged that I was going to take a 2-month break after I ORD before I start work. Is that unreasonably long? I'm starting to have my doubts. Especially since I'm not even sure if I'll be going to London at all - MH says that's May/June is her busiest part of the year. Can't believe it's been almost a year since I last saw her.

Proceeded to Blooies, a restaurant-bar located along Jln Tua Kong, where we met up with Puay's friends. I was reunited with two of my classmates from RI. One had signed on and was now a captain (I could sense he regretted his decision), the other was finishing his last year in NUS law. It was great to catch up with them after so many years. Now I'm wondering how the rest of my classmates are faring.

Of gurus, quacks and charlatans

2005-02-24T16:40:00.000+08:00

I'm finally done with Francis Wheen's Mumbo-Jumbo. In MJ, Wheen debunks all forms of irrationality, not only those one would usually associate with hooey like New Age mystics, millenarian catastrophists, UFOlogists and neo-Luddites a la Jose Bove (this french farmer that destroyed a chain of McDonald's restaurants around France in 1999). He also implicates unlikely suspects like the Reagans (Nancy is alleged to have an unhealthy obsession with geomancy and seances), established intellectual bigwigs like Noam Chomsky, S. Huntington and F. Fukuyama (Wheen thinks their theories are reductionist and plain inaccurate) and the communal grievers following Princess Di's death (how did a spoilt princess become a feminist icon? he feels).

MJ is amusing at times, never uproariously "hilarious!" as the review on the cover claimed. His mordant witty style has bite at first, but into the 100th page it's just plain old grumpiness. Wheen seems to have a bone to pick with everyone and everything. While reading MJ, you really have to wonder if this guy has any friends, or, what is more likely, leads a sad, hermetic existence.

Funny trivia bit: According to a study of the Koran by Christoph Luxenberg, the legend of the 72 virgins that greet Muslims in paradise may not be what it seems, but may have been the result of a misinterpretation of the word hur, which translates from Arabic as 'houris' but in the Syriac language meant 'white raisins'. Just imagine the look on the face of a suicide bomber when he's handed a bowl of dried grapes in heaven!

21 grams

2005-02-24T02:21:00.000+08:00

Just watched 21 grams for the second time on HBO. Another great movie. Wouldn't want to own it on DVD though - don't think I wish to see it three or more times. It's awfully depressing. But Naomi Watts sure plays a hysterical widow convincingly. Too bad the film was released in the same year as Monster. Otherwise, I think she'd have stood a good chance of winning the Oscar. Charlize Theron spoiled market by looking all fat and ugly.

Jodie, ma nouvelle idole

2005-02-23T23:38:00.000+08:00

Caught A Very Long Engagement (or in French Un Long Dimanche de Fiançailles) today with Terne, a fellow french-speaking friend from RI. I must say I really enjoyed it. The film retained the whimsicality and surreal quality of Amélie despite the more sombre WWI setting. I laughed (more like "sniggered" - I never laugh out loud in the cinema. Nothing's ever been THAT funny), cringed, covered my eyes (this may be misleading. This isn't a horror movie at all. It's just that I simply can't bear to watch guys shoot themselves, or get themselves shot, in the hand over and over again), and had my heartstrings tugged at (almost teared at the end). Also, the war scenes were extremely realistic, visually stunning and unapologetically violent, the way they should be. It brought to mind a play we studied back in secondary school entitled Journey's End also set in WWI. But it really requires the medium of film to fully bring out the bloodletting and complete pandemonium that ensues in war.

And how about that Jodie Foster with her pitch-perfect French accent? I knew she could speak the language (Mme Teow mentioned it in passing during class), but had no idea she spoke it that well! And that steamy bedroom scene. That was the first time I saw a naked Foster in a love scene (the scene in Nell where she bares her boobies doesn't count, since that was totally unsexy). She's my new goddess. Although I just found out on the net that she's supposedly a huge lesbian icon. Hmm.

My only complaint about the movie was that there were so many characters that it was easy to lose track of them. And a lot of diversionary subplots, but I guess Jeunet tied it all together (neatly?) at the end. Definitely a DVD I'd like to own.

Just downloaded a lot of episodes of Simpsons and Southpark. The humour between the two is so different but I deeply enjoy them both! =)

Maybe I'll have a mini movie marathon going tomorrow...

Mohawk?

2005-02-22T23:06:00.000+08:00

Second day of my week off. As uneventful as the first but I'm glad I'm getting a break from camp life. Being bored at home definitely beats being bored in camp. Hands down.

Caught Birth on dvd in the morning. A very slow-paced and unsatisfying film. There's this freeze screen close-up of Nicole Kidman's face in the theater that I swear lasted for at least 3 whole minutes. I expected more out of it, I must say. But seeing Kidman with such short-cropped hair was pretty refreshing.

Brought my grandma to the dentist in the afternoon, and made a stopover at the Bedok Community Library where I returned my books (didn't manage to even start on one of them - I guess Schlink's The Reader has got to wait till another time. Doubt I'd have enjoyed it anyway.) and got a new library card made for 5 bucks. Picked two books at random to borrow - Atwood's Surfacing and Graham Greene's Our Man in Havana.

Proceeded to Parkway Parade to get my hair cut. Rather happy with the result. Usually I just go to Aki, one of those 10min 10dollar places in Bedok Interchange, but decided to go to a pricier salon on this occasion since I had the time to spare. I suck at describing to hair dressers what sort of cut I want. I just don't have the necessary vocabulary, I think. Today I was like "I want it much shorter than it is now, and I want it so that when I gel it, it looks like this." I proceed to grab my hair with both my fists and look at the poor hair dresser expectantly, who replies "Oh, so you want a mohawk?" I immediately reply that I had nothing that radical in mind. But I think in the end my feeble attempt at describing my desired haircut worked. Thankfully it looked nothing like a punkster's do.

The KL trip

2005-02-20T22:31:00.000+08:00

The coach ride to KL was pretty comfortable with spacious reclinable seats and plenty of legroom (though the trip back to Singapore was a whole different story with the added presence of possibly the most annoying tourist guide onboard - how did the guy get hired??). The hotel rooms at Berjaya Times Square surpassed my expectations (there was a bidet in the bathroom!), though the TV channels left alot to be desired.

KL was just how I imagined it to be - a greyer, danker, more rundown version of Singapore. Our first day was spent shopping at Sungei Wang, a mall in the style of Lucky Plaza and Far East near our hotel. I was quite surprised to see that people, mainly stall vendors, were actually smoking in the mall itself. We next adjourned to the pasar malam along Jln Petaling in Chinatown, where I bought a fake Franck Muller watch for RM25 (pretty happy with that buy!). Then it was back to the Bukit Bintang area for a late sushi dinner after an abortive attempt to get to Bangsar, a Holland-Vesque spot in KL. I don't think I've waited for tempura that long before, but it was worth the wait.

The highlight of our second day was our trip to Putrajaya, the new administrative Malaysian capital. As we travelled through the city on the public bus, it felt like we had been transported to an entirely different country. It was reminiscent of Californian suburbia what with the well-manicured rolling hills, the palm trees and the sand-colored terraced houses. Ok, so the prayers broadcast on the loudspeakers and the majestic mosques broke the whole Californian feel, but hey, at least the main mosque in the city was pink! =) Getting around the main sights was tough since they were spread far apart and weren't particularly accessible by bus. Plus the fact that we had to contend with punishing heat from a sweltering sun. As we walked, I realized how empty and eerily quiet the city was. It brought to mind scenes from 28 days later where the protagonists wander around an empty London. We were getting severely dehydrated and YJ's shirt had begun to seh-gor on the left shoulder. Thankfully we chanced upon a food court next to the lake as we were walking where we could recharge ourselves.

After Putrajaya, we took the train back to KL where we visited the megamall at KLCC just next to the Petronas Towers (as fwee commented, they looked much shinier than they usually appear in pictures and postcards). Felt cheated when I had to pay RM2 to visit the loo. It was pretty nice inside, admittedly, and I tried to make it worth the amount I paid with liberal use of the Body Shop body mist provided near the sink area and by taking several towellette packets. Felt even more cheated when I found out from limml that there were free toilets in other parts of the mall!! I visited the usual shops I go to back home - Raoul, TopShop and Zara where I got a pair of jeans after some hesitation. After our shopping, we proceeded back to the hotel to shower, popped over to the adjoining shopping mall for dinner and ended the night in Starbucks where we discussed movies and celebrities we'd like to sleep with.

The third day was basically spent nuah-ing in the guys' room (where I revealed how unbelievably sucky I was at the game of bridge), after we decided that swimming would be too much of a hassle and that strenuous activity right after breakfast couldn't be good for you. We did some last-minute purchasing of DVDs before boarding the coach back to Singapore.

Looking forward to more of such trips to unwind from work.

Got a whole week of off ahead. I'm going to be bored out of my mind.

This is what you get when you follow your friends' instructions blindly without questioning. I've learnt to be more suspicious since then.

Belated CNY celebrations

2005-02-17T21:12:00.000+08:00

We finally had our CNY celebrations in camp this afternoon with the requisite yusheng lo-heiing, steamboat, lion dancers and karaoke contest. Eating steamboat with techno blaring out from the loudspeakers was incongruous and quite annoying. The karaoke competition was hilarious, with GL making a total fool of himself yet again. I'm beginning to question if he grasps the concepts of shame and self-respect. I'm being unduly harsh. He actually sang decently, but did he have to yield to the audience's cajoling and do those pathetic Jolin Tsai dance routines? I could not help feeling embarrassed for him. But he did come in second so good for him. Why did everyone (almost) have to sing Jay Chou songs? So much for originality in song choice. I find it funny how CO and S3 are always the judges in such song-and-dance competitions. I mean, what gives them the voice of authority in that field? Do they hold degrees in performance arts from NAFA? The three campily dressed 财神爷s were equally diverting in their garish costumes. As expected, I did not win anything in the lucky draw. Never have, probably never will.

Finished Leviathan today - not Thomas Hobbes' magnum opus (I would never read such antiquated works on my own free will), but Boris Akunin's murder mystery novel. It was a fast entertaining read, a classic whodunnit in the style of Agathe Christie's Hercule Poirot novels (never read any before, but caught snatches of the TV series that used to air) set at the turn of the last century. A family of rich Parisians and their servants are found dead in their home and a golden statue of Krishna is missing. Commissioner Gauche somehow figures out that the murderer will be boarding a ship (the Leviathan) destined for the East Indies so he gets onboard to investigate. There he meets a colorful group of first-class passengers, all of whom are potential suspects. I rather liked the book not so much because of the twists and false leads - these are, after all, the indispensable components that make murder mystery novels murder mystery novels - but because of Akunin's skilful manner of giving first-person perspectives of each character. He flits effortlessly from the persona of an uptight Japanese military man to that of an egotistical pregnant aristocrat from Switzerland. I'll probably read The Winter Queen, the book that made him big.

I really have to start packing my bag for the trip tomorrow. I wonder if RM400 is enough for three days in KL.

Bonne nouvelle!

2005-02-16T21:32:00.000+08:00

Today I finally sat down with pen and calendar and got down to the pleasant business of planning my off and leave till ORD. Great news: it turns out I can start clearing my off from next Monday onwards! That put a smile on my face for the rest of the day. I even decided to go for a run around the neighbourhood when I got home from work to shed off all that happy energy. Needed to get back to my old morose self.

Of course I'll still have to report back to camp on the days I have Advanced Close Combat Training (ACCT) - so NOT looking forward to that - and when I've got guard.

Presently negotiating with MFA when I start work. It looks like I'll be starting on 4 July, which gives me a good two months after I ORD to go on that long European holiday I've been wanting to take all this while.

Regalflowers.com sucks

2005-02-15T20:45:00.000+08:00

MH did not receive the flowers yesterday. I've been trying to get in touch with Regalflowers.com as soon as I reached home via phone and email but both to no avail. Their line is perpetually engaged and my emails keep bouncing back, probably jammed by other disgruntled customers like myself. I feel extremely cheated. And everytime I open their customer service webpage I feel like wringing the neck of the smiling blond telephone operator featured. I wonder if there's an UK equivalent of CASE to whom I can complain.

I went back to the woodwork factory in Sembawang this morning where I turned carpenter's apprentice for half the day. Our job was to drill holes in the centre of these 5 x 5cm wooden squares. Sounds easy at first, but get this: there were three mini bathtubs worth of those squares! It was insane! 2SG D. did most of the drilling, while my job was to form the squares into neat stacks 14-squares high. At the end, we were all covered in a most unpleasant mixture of sweat and sawdust.

Rushed to the travel agency at Century Square after work to finalize the KL trip paperwork. The agent that served me was pretty friendly but his breath sure reeked. It seems like this trip is really going to happen after all!

Jenny, you disappoint me

2005-02-14T21:14:00.000+08:00

I managed to catch snatches of the Grammy Awards this morning. The J.Lo-Marc Anthony Spanish duet was gawd-awful. The decor - a replica of a living room that opened up like one of those Polly Pocket dollhouses - was ridiculously contrived and pulled the performance down to new lows of uncoolness and poor taste. As expected, next to the vocally far superior husband of hers, J.Lo was exposed for what she really was - an untalented artiste over-reliant on studio mixing, sex appeal and a heavily insured booty. And did she not learn anything from the Bennifer debacle? Having wisely kept a low profile since Gigli, widely agreed to be the worst movie ever made, she decides to share the stage with her new squeeze in a cringe-worthy performance on the biggest music awards show in America. Smooth, jenny, real smooth.

All in all, it was a pretty good first day back at work. Didn't do much at all, except for an outcamp run to an industrial park in Sembawang with Encik and a couple of men to get some wooden boards sawn into smaller pieces (signage for NDP rehearsals). Celebrated YC's 24th in the office with a coffee cake the guys bought during lunch, wrote a few damage reports for damages incurred back in NZ, and prepared to book out.

Trying to get a trip to KL together this weekend among the Stanford bunch, but I have my doubts if it's actually going to happen. I have a similar level of doubt as to whether the roses I ordered from regalflowers.com will find their way to MH's doorstep today, since she just informed me over MSN that she'd be out at school for most of the day. Eek.

Back to camp

2005-02-13T20:53:00.000+08:00

And so ends a well-deserved one-and-a-half-week long respite from my mind-numbing life in 20SA, Amoy Quee camp. I'll be headed back there in half an hour. At least I can guiltlessly stay out of camp from now on, since my ORD date is drawing near. Whoopie!!! My back issues of the Economist shall keep me entertained for the coming week. And I'll see if I can sneak out of my office unnoticed tomorrow and slip into the spec mess to catch the Grammy Awards at 9am.

Games Night!

2005-02-12T14:27:00.000+08:00

Just got back from tennis with Scott under the blistering noonday sun, and lunch at Beer Garden where I bumped into Mr. Harris (who had forgotten my name, but promptly buttered me up with his comment that "I always thought the best ones in your class didn't take English").

Yesterday was pretty eventful, for my standards. I went to the Bedok gym with Sam around noon and worked out for about an hour, and we thereafter proceeded to Lido to catch Constantine. To our dismay, the cinema was already crawling with schoolkids, working class slackers who had taken half or a full day off, and the unemployed, and midway while we were lining up our desired showtime was sold out. So, with a spark of genius, we got out our cellphones and started using the movie listings provided on a GPRS site, and made a swift decision to catch a showing of Constantine at Bugis that was about to begin in 15 minutes. After finally regaining my car in the labyrinth that is the Shaw Centre multistorey carpark, clutching at our take-away McDonald set meals that were getting cold and soggy, feeling beads of perspiration slide down my back, we had an epiphany: why not simply make things easy for ourselves and catch the next showing at 5.05pm where we already were? So we stormed back to the Lido box office and got back in line. Sam, along the way, in jest: "This is just the adventure I need to spice up my week." I grimaced.

The movie was just ok for me. As always, the CGI effects were impressive (are they ever not in action movies nowadays? The public should be expecting nothing less), although I felt the CGI demons looked way too fake to be scary. Plot- and theme-wise, Constantine did not put anything new on the table. Typical heaven vs hell scenario a la End of Days and Devil's Advocate replete with requisite scenes of possessed girl crawling on the ceiling a la Exorcist, devils struggling to break their way through people's stomachs a la the Alien series, mandatory inclusion of an English-accented ethereal-looking winged angel played by Tilda Swinton (looking like Cate Blanchett's evil twin sister), and of course Keanu Reeves as always playing the dead-pan self-doubting hero that saves the day. Very trite.

After that, I adjourned to Brewerkz for dinner with the Stanford gang plus Adeline Wong and Kenneth Sim, where we discussed erudite topics like people wanking off in public and whether the guys present were butt- or breast-men. I was looking forward to go to Settlers Cafe but apparently it's so popular we've got to reserve like one week in advance, so I guess it's got to wait till another day. Then, we proceeded to Minli's house of fun - Gene & Jean, Eehou and Karen Siah joined us there - where we played Cranium (darned Word Worm!!), Taboo (it's so much more sexually charged and suggestive when playing with friends!) and Ticket to Ride, this boardgame that Minli has been raving about and that won Game of the Year in Germany (when I first heard that, I knew it was going to be a great game. Those Germans are such a fun bunch...), where we had to earn points by building train tracks across America. It was, admittedly, pretty fun but I lost terribly.

Really tired now. Think I'll take a nap.

Hubris completed

2005-02-10T11:21:00.000+08:00

Completed Hubris. I must say that though Scheuer makes absolutely clear what he thinks the current administration is doing wrong and apportions blame zealously (and in a most mordant, entertaining fashion) to the White House, the FBI and the CIA among other establishments for what he sees as a failing "war on terror" (a catchphrase he does not take kindly to, as mentioned before. America is up against combat-trained insurgents!), his policy recommendations are weak and abstract. Excepting his suggestions that the Americans start increasing domestic oil supplies by drilling in Alaska and that the US army beef up its campaign against insurgents by closing borders with the help of landmines, razing down infrastructure and heightening its level of "bloody-mindedness", most of Scheuer's closing "guidelines" are lazy rehashings of the mantras he has echoed tiresomely over and over again: don't think of bin Laden as a terrorist! Stop thinking Islam hates us because of what we are; it's what we do! Stop thinking and acting like all we need to do is catch, try and incarcerate a small band of Timothy McVeighs, when what we really need to do is wage an all-out war against a global Islamic insurgency! We need nonconcrete paradigm shifts, people, nonconcrete paradigm shifts!!

Oh, and did I mention Scheuer's a staunch anti-internationalist? Check out this hilariously flippant passage: "Except for blind support for Israel, there has been nothing harder to oppose in the last decades of U.S. foreign policymaking than the rock-solid belief in the absolute need to for a multinational coalition before tackling a 'crisis' that has popped up. U.S. presidents in the past quarter-century often have resembled nothing so much as teenage girls who cannot possibly go to the restroom in a public venue without the accompaniment of the closest girlfriends." Hah!

The Ho Family discovers Taboo

2005-02-09T02:36:00.000+08:00

Reunion dinner tonight consisted of the usual fare: steamboat at home with prawns, scallops, fishballs and the like (though this year gratefully accompanied by 5gor's homemade roast duck), A-ma's constant insistence that the broth was not salty enough, enthusiastic exchanges about the latest property investments, mandatory mention of and collective sympathizing for my poor cousin Ah Beng in London who was going to spend CNY all by himself.

This day will also go down in the annals of Ho Family history as the day I introduced by family members to the wonderful game of TABOO (my favourite party game!). They took to it really well! At the end of the night, even my younger cousin Wen Tchern who refused to play at the start ("A game about words? With an hour glass? BORING.") was addicted. And my aunties who seemed to be above it all ended up participating rather enthusiastically. We started out by playing in two teams, but halfway through we gave up the idea of separate teams since 1) everyone wanted to guess the word being described 2) it was really frustrating having to remind everyone whose team they were in 3) separating the family into competing teams is divisive and can't be good for family spirit. So in the end it was me, my sister and Wen Tchern describing words, and my Mom and Dad guessing them. The funniest moment was unquestionably when 5gor started describing her first word (PRINTER) and this bizarre English accent popped out from somewhere within her. I guess such distorted accents are the result of one becoming overly self-aware in a situation. But she was playing TABOO with her Singlish-spouting family members, not with the Duchess of York...

Can't wait to play it again!

Igneous or sedimentary?

2005-02-09T01:18:00.000+08:00

Halfway through Anonymous' (aka Michael Scheuer, ex-CIA bin Laden unit chief and probable victim of Porter Goss' recent CIA purge) Imperial Hubris. An engaging read so far, a product of his litigious style, controversial arguments and his amusing analogies (eg. he describes the color coded threat level system devised by the Dept for Homeland Security as the "traffic light of death" and bin Laden as a latter-day Robin Hood). Though he has an annoying habit of repeating his points over and over again. Scheuer's arguments include:

- Al Qaeda's attacks on the West are a form of defensive jihad against US meddlesome policy in dar al Islam, and NOT to be mistaken for an offensive expansionist jihad aimed at instigating a inter-civilizational war.

- Bin Laden is attacking America not because of what America is or the principles it stands for as many believe, academics, politicians and journalists alike, but because of what America has done and is doing in the Middle East.

- The 'war on terrorism' is a misleading misnomer. The US is pitted against, not a small band of outlaw terrorists, but an amorphous and metastasizing global Islamicist insurgency.

- The gulf between the prevalent perception of bin Laden in the Muslim world (as a warrior hero; a modern day Saladin; a pious scholar) and in the West (deranged, media-hungry megalomaniac; a Muslim Timothy McVeigh bent on mass murder; simpleton manipulated by an intellectually superior deputy Zawahiri) needs to be bridged.

- (and lastly, most controversial of all) Bin Laden should be respected as a worthy enemy before he can be defeated.

Scheuer pairs bin Laden's name with words like "great" and "genius" so many times he often comes across sounding like the man's publicist!

My favourite passage so far is where he describes US authorities' usual reaction to the release of a new bin Laden video recording:

"...government and media experts are unleashed on the tape, assigned to answer questions that are meant, I suppose, to make the US more secure. To wit: Is his beard longer? Is it greyer?...And what about those rocks? Igneous or sedimentary? Call the geologists! Can we locate those rocks in Afghanistan? Are those spring flowers or Arctic lichens?...Look, he is blinking his eyes! Could he be blinking attack orders? Call the eye-blink decoder!..." (p.128, Imperial Hubris)

Targeting to finish Hubris by tomorrow.

Strange bedfellows

2005-02-08T00:50:00.000+08:00

Nugget of Wisdom for the Day

"It is better to receive curious stares as an odd couple than contemptuous ones as an unwanted single."
- South Korean newlywed Mr. Kim Jae Yon, on why he decided to marry a Uzbek woman (from the Straits Times today)

Don't you just love the phrasing on that? Mr Kim manages to make his personal statement ring with the authority of a sagely Confucian saying that no-one would even consider challenging. Just brilliant!

Russell behaves

2005-02-07T03:14:00.000+08:00

Dragged myself to church this morning like i do (almost) every Sunday. Brother Gerard was preaching on Revelations 21 (the chapter from the apocalyptic biblical book where God gives the apostle John a richly commentaried tour of the new holy city of Jerusalem, and where John meets one of the seven angels holding the seven vials containing the seven last plagues). Don't remember what was said exactly. Just random snatches like how it'd be bright all day long (the concept of time wouldn't exist after the second coming so the phrase "all day long", i guess, wouldn't make sense then. But you catch my drift) in the new holy city which won't be a problem since no-one in heaven will get fatigued, let alone feel the urge to sleep, and, oh, that Islam is an evil religion predicated on violence and expansion by war. Don't you just love those unapologetic sweeping statements they make in church that receive zealous nods of approval among pious aunties in the congregation, but that elsewhere elicit rabid snarls, fist-throwing and, mainly in four-letter countries beginning with I-R-A, swift decapitation unpreceded by a fair trial? Partly due to the abominable assertions often made in church, I find that my mind instinctively tunes out once the sermon begins. My level of decisiveness is unquestionably highest every Sunday morning, when I quietly make up a mental to-do list for the upcoming week during Singspiration and amidst calls to turn my Bible to such-and-such a page. Indeed, it was in church today that I, after silently lining up the pros against the cons in my head, finally decided to start this blog.

After church, my three aunties (2gor, 3gor and 4gor), my cousin and I proceeded for lunch at Village Wok, a Chinese restaurant situated along Lorong 3 Geylang. 3gor expressed interest in writing a financial advice book a la Rich Dad Poor Dad but specific to investments in property. My cousin Teck swiftly interjected that his mum could also write a book on how to make the perfect kueh lapis. However misguided it may seem, all my three aunties profess a belief that one starts to smell like what one eats if you eat enough of it, and so, proclaimed 2gor "we should all go vegetarian since we'll smell like flowers". "But vegetarians don't eat flowers. They eat leaves and other green stuff," I retorted. Her reply: "Aiyah it's all the same lah. You'll have that fresh green smell." I was highly amused.

Thereafter, I met El Saracen (AKA longtime friend since primary school who now helms his very own company supplying foreign firms with construction materiel and drives his own vintage Merc AKA my new personal literary consultant, coach on politico-cultural affairs and source of excellent non-fiction books) for coffee at the Starbucks in Siglap, where we talked (among other things) about the superiority complex of the Tamils back in India and quality American cultural output like (??) Homicide: Life on the Streets, and reminisced about the good ol' days in Bedok primary school. Our primary 6 teacher, as always, was the easiest memory to conjure up. She banned her class from watching TV and taunted our consciences, playfully prodding us to confess every Friday if we had succumbed to temptation in the previous week. I don't remember the following part, but Ali recalls she insisted we say what program we had seen, and that some kid said the National Day Rally (what a liar! A primary 6 kid watching the PM rattle on about CPF and HDB rebates? Come on...). Mrs Lee took the bait like a moth to a flame and promptly told the boy he could sit down. Kids are so sly...

Next it was off to ECP with Russell (my Jack Russell), Frenje, Minli, her younger sister Min-lin, and Skew (M & M's Maltese). Of all times, Russell had to choose the one of the few times I brought him out of my neighborhood to have the runs. Thankfully it only lasted a short while. Probably just jitters brought about by having to come to terms with the presence of another canine. Managed to get bitten on the hand by my own dog. Yet again. He didn't mean it of course. Can he really not be patient enough for me to let go of the ball first before snatching at it with his incisors? Jeez. His faux-pas was quickly forgiven on the ride back home. He was so astoundingly well-behaved on the passenger seat, even without Minli restraining him by his leash from the backseat! Bravo Russell! It's (rare) moments like this that make me a proud dog-owner.

Keepin' it real

2005-02-06T22:00:00.000+08:00

I must confess on the outset that I have always been somewhat turned off by the idea of blogging. To the cynic in me, blogs were for pretentious pricks who wanted their friends to see how happening their lives were, little pockets of cyberspace seized upon to feign intellect and inflate your coolness quotient. It makes perfect sense: if you're going to display your thoughts and daily activities online for the world to see, you are naturally inclined to self-censor - leave out (or blow up out of proportion, depending on your personality) a dirty detail here, add a white lie there - and try to come off sounding as smart and funny and interesting as you can, when reality could be far different. Furthermore, knowing that you need to do cool things to write about in your blog, you may start doing ridiculously risky things like scuba-diving and bobsled racing that you'd never have picked up if you didn't have a damn blog in the first place! Although this argument could be turned on its head and inverted to become an advantage of blogging: bloggers are incentivized to do new interesting things and widen their spectrum of experiences so they can write about them in their blogs.

Ultimately, I decided it was time to lay to rest the sceptic in me and give blogging a try. It would be a good way to let all interested know what I've been up to, what I've been thinking/reading/watching/listening to. But I'm going to try to be as true to myself as I can and resist false pretenses. As Ms J. Lo - that veritable wellspring of inspirational quotes - so aptly put it in her song, despite all the "rocks that [she's] got / [She's] still Jenny from the block". Here's to me and my virginal blogging effort.